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Sometimes you’ve just had enough

And honestly? That’s fair.

· PIP'S BLIPS,ChatGPT

There are days when you reach a quiet, stubborn edge. Not a dramatic meltdown, not a shouting match with the universe — just a simple, steady "no more". It’s the moment when your resilience has filed for annual leave without warning, your patience has gone on strike, and everything feels one email away from spontaneous combustion.

Sometimes you’ve just had enough.

Enough of the endless waiting—for decisions, support, clarity. Enough of being reasonable, flexible, composed. Enough of pretending that coping is your full-time job with no annual leave, sick days, or snack breaks.

And honestly? That’s fair.

Sometimes the bravest, healthiest thing you can do is to admit, “Nope. I’ve reached capacity. Brain: full. Emotions: buffering. Heart: 404 not found.”

But what then? Here are a few softly-lit signposts for what to do when you've hit that wall:

  • Cancel something. Anything. A meeting, a plan, an expectation you never agreed to in the first place. The world won’t crumble (and if it does, that’s definitely not on you).
  • Lie horizontal. It’s underrated. Couch, bed, floor—whatever. Let gravity do some of the work.
  • Tell one person the truth. “I’m fried.” “I’m running on fumes.” “I’m hiding in the pantry with a biscuit.” It’s all valid.
  • Put off problem-solving. You don’t have to fix anything right now. Step one is remembering you're a human, not an emergency service.

And if all else fails: drink water, breathe slowly, and consider starting a gentle list called “Things I Don’t Have to Care About Today.”

And have a guitless, shameless drink or three. Or a puff.

As Anne Lamott said, "Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes... including you."

So go ahead — flop, pause, recharge. The world can wait.

A person lying flat on their back in a patch of sun on the floor, still in their day clothes, one shoe on, one off. Around them are the chaotic signs of life: coffee cup, unopened mail, cat on their chest. The expression? Somewhere between “defeated” and “don’t even think about talking to me.”  Alt text: A person in everyday clothes lying on the floor in a sunbeam, one shoe on, one off. Their eyes are closed as a cat lies on their chest, surrounded by everyday clutter like mail, coffee, and shoes—visibly in a moment of “I’ve had enough.

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