I’m a neuroscience and trauma-informed coach and the founder of Regulated Living. What you’ll find here are the tools, resources, and support I wish I had earlier in my own healing journey.
Hi! I'm Amanda
Episode 179: Spotify | Apple Podcasts | YouTube
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Most overwhelmed people already know their plate is too full. What gets much harder to see, especially when you are running on empty, is which parts of that plate are actually optional. When capacity drops, everything starts to feel like a have to. And the idea of asking for help can feel almost as heavy as the load itself.
This is the final part of a three part series on capacity. Earlier in the series we looked at what happens when the stressors in your life outweigh the supporters, and last week you sorted everything on your plate into a color coded list using the Capacity and Support Audit, a free workbook I created for this series. This post walks through the second half of that workbook: the practical work of lowering demand, widening your definition of support, and choosing one small shift that helps your life fit inside the capacity you have right now.
When your demands and your capacity are out of balance, you have two places to work. You can decrease your stressors, and you can increase your supporters. Ideally, you do some of both.
This matters for your nervous system because chronic overwhelm keeps your body in a state of ongoing mobilization. And a stretched nervous system does something frustrating to your thinking: it narrows it. When capacity is low, you have less access to the parts of your brain that are creative, curious, and flexible. That is why your own options can be nearly invisible to you while a friend can spot three of them in thirty seconds.
So before you start, two ground rules. First, everything here is a brainstorm. Writing something in a column commits you to nothing. The goal here is mental flexibility, so you can see where you actually have choice. Second, it is completely okay if this feels like too much to do alone. Bring the pages to therapy, sit down with your partner or a trusted friend, or if you are in the Regulated Living Membership, book a strategy call and we can walk through your unique life together.
Quick refresher on your color coded list. Yellow items are necessary, and the circled yellows are the ones that have to be done by you specifically, like your own medical appointments or your work deadlines. Green items matter enough to keep spending capacity on, either because they align with your values or because they give more than they take. A ceramics class or a workout might cost some energy up front and leave you with more afterward. Pink is most of what is left.
You can approach the three Ds as a full audit, sorting every item on your list, or you can simply pick one or two things for each column. I do a full audit for myself about once a year. If you are already feeling stretched, start small. You can always come back and go deeper.
Start with your pink items and ask: what could just stop?
Deleting something can be temporary: for a month, for six months, or until your kids are sleeping through the night. For me, that was my morning gym sessions. I fought it for a long time because I love working out in the morning, and I kept telling myself I just needed more motivation and more discipline. Eventually I accepted that, for a season, it had to go. Later it moved into the do differently column, and exercise came back in a new form.
Look for the volunteer role, the hosting duty, or the commitment you said yes to years ago and never revisited. Some of these will bump into another person’s disappointment. That is part of the work too. You get to practice not owning other people’s frustration.
And add anything that drains capacity without ever showing up as an obligation. When I did this recently, scrolling my phone after 8 p.m. went straight into my delete column. Nothing helpful happens for me there.
If you are staring at your list and everything still looks mandatory, that is information about your capacity, and it is a good time to bring someone in. A friend or partner who knows your life can often point out what is optional long before you can see it yourself.
Anything that is not a circled yellow is a candidate here. Could laundry go to your teenager? Could groceries be delivered? Could another parent handle afternoon pickup while you do mornings? You might go to every soccer game, and someone else could still manage the snack schedule.
One distinction has made a huge difference in my own home: helping versus owning.
Say I notice the laundry is overflowing and ask you to do it. Then I tell you which load goes first, remind you to switch it, and mention at 9 p.m. that there is still a load in the dryer. You physically did laundry today. I still carried the whole thing in my head. That invisible tracking is the mental load, and it is often the part of a task that costs us the most. Real delegation hands that off too, so someone else owns the whole task, or a whole defined piece of it.
I am a board certified control freak, so this one has taken practice. The thought that kept me stuck was “it’s just easier if I do it myself.” Say that about a hundred things and you have a fast track to burnout. What usually sits underneath it is that nobody else will do it exactly the way I would. What helps me loosen my grip is agreeing on a minimum standard with the person taking over. We decide together what outcome needs to happen. If that outcome happens, I keep my opinions to myself, even when their method looks inefficient to me.
Delegating often overlaps with outsourcing, which brings up the money question. Remember, you are brainstorming. Write down what could be delegated before deciding what is worth paying for.
Every color comes back to the table here, even your circled yellows. You might be the only person who can do something and still have room to change how it gets done.
Look at what remains and ask whether it could cost less time, energy, thought, or decision making:
So much of our capacity goes toward standards nobody asked us to maintain. And when someone did ask, it is worth checking whether those standards are yours, and whether they are worth what they cost you. Sometimes the most helpful question is simply: can good enough be good enough here?
Before moving to the support side, there is one question I want you to sit with and write down:
If my only goal were to make my life 2% easier for the next month, what would I change?
Just 2%. One small thing that would make life easier, or stop making it harder than it needs to be.
I have a very strategic brain. I can take dozens of data points and see how they connect, and that skill works beautifully when I am helping someone else. When it came to support for myself, I used to be the world’s best attorney for why every option was unreasonable. She’s probably busy. I could hire someone, but couldn’t I technically do it myself? Is it really worth the money? My sister offered to take the kids, but she has a lot going on. I rejected support over and over before I ever asked for it.
If that sounds familiar, hold onto this: none of it feels good at first. Carrying everything yourself does not feel good. Asking for help does not feel good. Accepting help does not feel good. Hearing no does not feel good. Since discomfort is coming either way, you get to choose the kind that could eventually lead to your life asking less of you.
So in this part of the workbook, you are building a menu of maybes across four categories. Nothing on it is a commitment.
What could you pay for that would make this season easier? Therapy, coaching, childcare, house cleaning, meal prep, grocery delivery, a trainer, a nutritionist, lawn care, administrative help.
Then think a little sideways, because support does not always have to target the problem directly to help with it. If your health is struggling, the best support might be childcare, because that is what frees you up to get to the doctor, take the walk, or take the nap. If your mental health is your focus, the most useful paid support might be someone cleaning your house twice a month. If parenting feels heaviest, dinner delivery twice a week might do more than anything else.
Coaching can sit in this box too. If you want someone walking alongside you as you make these changes, that is exactly what RESTORE, our 1:1 anxiety and depression coaching program, is built for.
And if you are reading this thinking there is truly no extra money right now, that is real. There are three more boxes.
Who is already in your life that you could ask for help, accountability, company, or practical support? A partner, family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, other parents at school. There is a lot of overlap between this box and the next one: what could you trade, swap, share, or do together? Childcare swaps, shared dinners, alternating school pickup, splitting errands.
My favorite example from my own life is our neighbor Pat. She is 80 and lives like she is 60. When we moved in, we started building a relationship with small things: lending her our van when she was moving things out of her daughter’s house, swapping gardening tools. Eventually we suggested alternating dinners on Tuesdays. Over time, that turned into Pat cooking dinner for my whole family every Tuesday night. Sometimes my husband helps with a project around her house. Mostly, the trade is company. We do life together. And having one night a week where I do not have to figure out how to feed my tiny humans is a bigger relief than I can describe.
A few months ago, we went through a childcare transition that left me far more stretched than I expected. The thought crossed my mind to ask Pat if she would watch my daughter for a couple of hours one morning a week, and I immediately built my case against it. Who asks a neighbor for free childcare? What if she feels taken advantage of? What if she says yes out of obligation? Underneath all of that, there was a small voice saying, “Maybe.” I asked. She was thrilled.She now watches my daughter two mornings a week, has a special nickname for her, and pulled out toys from when her grandsons were little.
I know most people do not have a Pat. What this taught me is that I could not have known that support existed until I asked, and I could not have asked without building the relationship first. A deep sense of community, especially close to home, is missing from so many of our lives. A question we come back to with clients often is this: if you want the village, how can you be a villager? If your neighborhood is not the place for that, where else in your life could it be? And if you pass five other parents on your walk to school each morning, does every one of you need to make that walk every day?
Support groups, the library, community programs, school resources, faith communities, walking groups, buy nothing groups, and benefits through your work that you may not be using. Many of these were built for people in exactly your position: overwhelmed and a little under resourced. Finding them may take some asking around.
When you feel like you are out of ideas in any box, take a breath and ask: if there were one more thing I could put here, what would it be? Or: what would someone else put here if they looked at my life from the outside?
Here comes the most annoying question in the workbook. You just built a menu of support that may be available to you. Why aren’t you already using it?
Sometimes the answer truly is “I can’t,” and that is important information. Other times the answer sounds more like “I could, I just hate how it feels.” Look through this list and notice which ones land for you:
Some of mine shift depending on the day and the area of life. Here is an easy example. Spending $100 on something one of my kids needs? Done. Spending $100 on a massage for my overwhelmed sister? In a heartbeat. Spending that same $100 on a massage for me because I am overwhelmed? Suddenly there is a full investigation. Do I really need it? Is it frivolous? The real question hiding under the $100 is whether I am worth spending it on.
There is a nervous system piece here too. For many of us, carrying 110% alone feels easier than asking someone else to carry the extra 10%, simply because it is familiar, and your nervous system prefers what is familiar. That means discomfort is a poor guide for whether something is a good idea. Uncomfortable and irresponsible are two very different categories. Watch for the moment when “this feels uncomfortable” turns into “so I shouldn’t do it.”
Discernment still matters. Please do not spend money you do not have because a blog post told you to outsource your life. Do not ask an unsafe person to become your support, and do not hand something precious to someone who has shown you they will hold it against you later. Within those limits, the skill I am inviting you into, and one I am still practicing myself, is choosing the discomfort that might eventually make your life easier.
Two questions to journal on:
What support would I ask for if I weren’t worried about being judged or seen as incapable?
What would I spend money on if spending it on my own support felt as easy as spending it on someone I love?
If you notice your body bracing even as you read those questions, that is worth paying attention to. Building more capacity for discomfort is a nervous system skill, and it is the kind of work we practice together in my monthly Release class.
The last page of the workbook asks you to look back over everything you wrote and choose one small shift to commit to this week. Maybe you delete one commitment, or your partner fully owns one responsibility. Maybe you restart therapy, pay for a cleaner, or ask another parent about a childcare swap. Maybe you make dinner embarrassingly easy for the next two weeks.
Write the shift down. Then get specific about what it takes: what do you need to do, who do you need to ask, and when will you do it? If it is possible, consider doing it right now.
This becomes a decision point. A chance to stop treating doing everything yourself as the gold standard, and to step out of the story that things simply are the way they are and you have no say. You do not have to outsource your whole life, and not everyone has access to every kind of support. Both of those things are true. I have also never worked through this process with someone and failed to find at least one small, clear shift. Once you make it, you come back and find the next one. Then the next.
That is how a life that has been running past its limits starts to come back within them. One choice at a time, made by someone who is finally including their own capacity in the equation.
*Want me to talk about something specific on the podcast? Let me know HERE.
Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or qualified mental health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.
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