In my practice, I often see a particular kind of exhaustion. It’s in the eyes of the CEO who closes multi-million dollar deals but can’t close his own mind at night. It’s in the voice of the new mother who craves sleep, yet the moment her head hits the pillow, a tidal wave of worries […]

It’s 2 AM. The house is quiet, the city is asleep, but your mind is running a marathon. It replays that awkward comment you made in a meeting. It flashes a “what if” scenario about your future that makes your stomach clench. You try to push the thoughts away, telling yourself to “just stop thinking

The alarm goes off, but hitting snooze feels less like a luxury and more like a survival tactic. Another day looms, and the thought of your to-do list doesn’t bring motivation, just a wave of deep, bone-weary exhaustion. You used to be passionate about your work, your projects, your life. Now, you feel detached, cynical,

The world starts to shrink. Your chest tightens, and it feels like the air is being vacuumed out of the room. Your heart hammers against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat signaling a red alert. Your thoughts are a high-speed collision of “What if?” and “I can’t.” This isn’t just stress; it’s the overwhelming, primal surge