You know that feeling when you finally crawl into bed after a long, exhausting day and your body’s ready to sleep, but your mind’s doing jumping jacks?

Yep. That.

It’s one of those frustrating states that’s hard to explain unless you’ve lived it: you’re wiped out, but still alert. You should be resting, but something inside won’t let you.

We call it being tired but wired.

What’s going on?

Our bodies are wired to protect us from danger. When we’re stressed, anxious, or overwhelmed (even if we’re not fully aware of it), our brain switches into “fight or flight” mode. That means faster heartbeat, tense muscles, racing thoughts; basically, your body’s trying to keep you alert just in case something bad happens.

Now, that’s helpful when we’re in real danger.

But when this state becomes chronic, and when we’re carrying stress day after day, quietly pushing through, we can get stuck in that high-alert state. Our body might be screaming for rest, but our nervous system hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s safe to let go.

So we stay wired, even when we’re tired.

Why traditional rest doesn’t always work

Here’s the thing: if your body doesn’t feel safe, it won’t relax.

And for a lot of people, especially women and caregivers, stillness can feel unsafe. When things get quiet, all the thoughts we’ve been holding off come rushing in. When we finally have a moment to rest, we remember the to-do list, the worries, the what-ifs.

So we scroll. We get back up. We start doing things again. Not because we don’t want rest, but because rest doesn’t feel restful.

And if that’s happening to you, it may be a signal; your body is asking for a different kind of care.

What actually helps?

If you’ve ever tried “just relaxing” and it didn’t work, you’re not alone. The trick isn’t to force rest, but to gently guide your body back into a state where rest is possible.

Here are a few simple ways to do that. These are rooted in what we know about the nervous system and what helps it reset:

Try sensory grounding.
Look around and write down 5 things you can see, 4 you can touch, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell, and 1 you can taste. It sounds simple, but it’s surprisingly effective. It helps your brain realize you’re safe and in the present moment. 

Breathe slowly (with longer exhales)
Try this: inhale for 4 counts, hold for 2, exhale for 6. That longer out-breath activates your vagus nerve. This tells your body we’re okay now. Do this for a few minutes in bed, without rushing.

Use warmth or pressure.
Sometimes, just wrapping yourself in a soft shawl or pressing a hand to your chest can help your body soften. Weighted blankets work for a reason; they give your nervous system a signal of safety.

Make rest feel emotionally safe.
Sometimes we resist rest not because of the physical stillness, but because of what comes up emotionally. That’s okay. Rest doesn’t have to be perfect. Even just giving yourself permission to pause, without guilt, is a step.

When to seek help

If you’ve been feeling “on” for a long time, like there’s no real off switch anymore, it’s not because you’re doing anything wrongly. You’re probably burnt out, or stretched too thin, or carrying more than your share. You may be feeling the emotional toll of an experience that you have not verbalized or processed with another person. Or, the night time may be an unsafe time for you because of where you are. It makes total sense that your body is struggling to relax. It’s been doing so much for you.

Sometimes, a small reset is exactly where we begin. 

It doesn’t have to be dramatic. It might look like dimming the lights an hour earlier, or taking a short walk without using social media, or letting yourself cry in the shower, or saying no to something you always say yes to. These small acts tell your body: I’m listening and I care. But if even those feel impossible, or if the weight you’re carrying feels too heavy to name alone, that’s not a failure, it’s a signal: You may not need more willpower, you may need a mental health professional to help you; therapy can offer you a place to land, and to begin untangling what feels too much to hold on your own