When Your Nervous System Just Says “Nope” (Stress vs. Burnout)
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We love to talk about burnout. (I mean, I am the burnout coach after all.) But here’s the truth: not every breakdown moment is burnout. Sometimes it’s just stress—raw, acute, body-hijacking stress that takes you out before you even see it coming.
That happened to me this past weekend. And because I know I’m not the only one, I’m pulling back the curtain on what it looked like when I—the burnout coach—got my ass handed to me by stress.
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t one big meltdown moment. It was a stack of tiny, “harmless” stressors that piled up until my nervous system flat-out said, “Nope.”
The Setup: Cabin Vibes, Micro-Stresses, and Bridge Traffic
I spent the weekend at my family’s cabin with friends. Friday was bliss—solo time in one of my favorite places on earth. Saturday was beach trips, birthdays, and fun. Sunday was supposed to be a simple wrap-up and head home.
Except it wasn’t.
Leaving the cabin is basically an Olympic event. My family has this binder—yes, a literal binder—with step-by-step policies and procedures for shutting the place down. (I used to roll my eyes at it… until this weekend.)
So I was already a little on edge making sure I did everything right, especially with friends around who didn’t know the process. Add in a ticking clock—I had tutoring calls back home that afternoon—and the pressure was building.
Then came the kicker: Hood Canal Bridge traffic. If you’ve ever driven it, you know. It’s a floating bridge that opens for naval vessels and submarines, which means traffic can stop dead for hours. I’ve been going there my whole life and had never been stuck… until now.
Watching my ETA creep later and later—past my call times—I could feel the spiral start. Panic mode.
The Spiral: Stress Stacks Like Bricks
Here’s the thing about stress: it doesn’t always come as one big “holy sh*t” moment. More often, it’s micro-stressors stacking on top of each other until the weight crushes you.
For me, it looked like this:
Leaving later than I wanted → anxious.
Bridge traffic → anxious x10.
Realizing I’d miss calls → frantic problem-solving mode.
No webcam (mine’s broken) → janky tech setup panic.
Flaky internet → more panic.
A canceled student → frustration layered on top.
A cold co-host → one more drain.
Finally leaving the cabin (again)… only to realize 20 minutes later I’d left the back slider wide open.
That was the gut-punch moment. My intuition was screaming: “You missed something. Go back.”
And dammit, it was right. I had left the slider wide open. Anyone could’ve walked in.
So I turned around, drove back, shut everything down, triple-checked the binder, locked every lock, and still—when I got back on the road—my nervous system was fried.
Stress vs. Burnout: Why This Wasn’t Burnout
Now, here’s why I’m sharing this. Because I want to make one thing crystal clear:
👉 This wasn’t burnout. This was stress.
Burnout is chronic. It’s long-term stress stacked over weeks, months, even years until it reshapes your health, your work, your relationships, your everything. It’s a snowball.
Stress, on the other hand, is acute. It’s the short-term, body-hijacking response when life keeps throwing little grenades at you. Your chest tightens, your jaw locks, your thoughts spin, and your nervous system says, “Nope, we’re done.”
That was me. Tight chest. Locked jaw. Brain spinning and frozen at the same time. Even after I’d done everything right—checked every box, locked every door, followed the damn binder—I couldn’t shake the intrusive thought loop:
“You’re not trustworthy. You’re not competent. You forgot something.”
That’s stress.
Why It Hit So Hard
Here’s the kicker: it wasn’t the traffic, the tech, or even the damn slider door. It was what came after.
Even when I had the receipts—proof I did everything right—my nervous system still wouldn’t calm down. Logic didn’t matter. Evidence didn’t matter. My body had taken the wheel.
And that’s the thing about stress: once it hijacks your nervous system, you can’t just out-logic it. You can’t strong-arm your way through.
The Intuition Twist
The wildest part of all this? My intuition knew all along.
That gut-level knowing I’d left the slider open? 100% correct.
But once I fixed it, the loop that kept telling me I’d screwed up again? That was just intrusive stress talking.
There’s a huge difference between intuition and anxiety. Intuition feels certain. Anxiety feels like a “what if” loop. Learning to tell them apart is a game-changer.
The Lesson: Your Brain Needs Backup
Here’s what I walked away with:
Stress stacks. Even small sh*t can knock you flat if there’s enough of it.
Logic isn’t always enough. Proof won’t calm a hijacked nervous system.
Your brain needs support. Systems. Checklists. Safety nets. (Yes, I’m now officially grateful for that cabin binder.)
Intuition > anxiety. Your gut is often right. Learn to trust it.
Next time I’m at the cabin, best believe I’m taking video evidence of every step of that checklist. Because sometimes we need more than memory. We need systems that back us up when stress scrambles our brain.
Why This Matters for You
Maybe you’re not juggling cabin binders and Hood Canal bridge traffic, but I’d bet money you’ve felt this:
The “I can’t trust myself” spiral.
The “what if I screwed this up” loop.
The tight chest, the frozen brain, the body that just won’t calm down.
You’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re human.
And no matter how many burnout-proof tools you have, you can still have days when stress wrecks you. That doesn’t mean your systems don’t work. It means you need support, backup, and permission to just be human.
Final Word
If your nervous system has ever just said “Nope”—welcome to the club.
Stress is real. It’s sneaky. It’s exhausting. But it doesn’t mean you’re weak, incompetent, or broken. It means you’re human, living in a world full of micro-stressors that stack up until your body taps out.
And if you’re wondering whether what you’re feeling is stress or if it’s creeping into burnout territory, I got you.
Take my Burnout Quiz.
Book a free call. Sometimes you just need a real human to talk it out with.
But above all—trust your gut, give your nervous system backup, and remember: the world doesn’t fall apart when you have a day like I did.
Stay relentless, achievers.