Decision Fatigue: What It Is and How to Reduce It

We’ve all felt it: after a day of nonstop choices—messages answered, meetings scheduled, errands squeezed in—our brain starts to slide. We overbuy, say yes when we mean no, or grab whatever snack is closest. Decision fatigue is the slowdown of judgment and self‑regulation after repeated decisions. As the load rises, two shortcuts tend to show up: we choose too quickly and recklessly or we avoid deciding altogether.

What decision fatigue looks like: (Maybe some of these are familiar to you. They are to me!)

Diminished judgment as the day goes on. As our decision load accumulates, we get noisier at choices and quicker to react. By evening, we’re more likely to:

  • Argue or snap over small frictions (who’s doing dishes, bedtime routines, calendar changes) because cognitive bandwidth is low and we default to emotional shortcuts.
  • Impulse‑spend online—adding “just one more” item to the cart or saying yes to a subscription—because clicking “buy” feels easier than deliberating.
  • Reach for convenience foods and skip planned prep; late‑night snacks and takeout are classic fatigue shortcuts when cooking requires micro‑decisions.
  • Say yes to invitations or tasks we’d normally decline, simply to end the decision and move on.
    A simple counter: front‑load key choices, pre‑decide meals, and add an evening “no‑commitments” rule unless the decision passes a 24‑hour check.

Avoidance and procrastination. When our brain is saturated, “I can’t decide right now” often morphs into “I won’t decide at all.” We defer, then forget, then feel behind.

  • Bills and admin tasks get punted; late fees appear not because we didn’t know the right move, but because we couldn’t face the choice stack.
  • Work items stall at the point of choosing—draft A vs. B, schedule now vs. later—so projects linger in limbo.
  • We keep multiple tabs open or lists half‑made, which compounds load and further delays action.
    A simple counter: use a two‑step rule—choose the next action (not the whole plan), then time‑box it (10–20 minutes). If a decision remains fuzzy, set a “good‑enough” default (e.g., pay minimum, schedule 30 minutes, pick A) with a calendar revisit.

Self‑regulation dips. Willpower and patience feel scarce, so fatigue drives shortcuts: fast, familiar, and often misaligned with our goals.

  • We choose the “easy/safe” option (deny, defer, default) rather than the right one that needs thought or a conversation.
  • We accept status‑quo settings—auto‑renewals, default permissions, default routes—even when they cost more or reduce safety, because changing them takes effort.
  • We abandon helpful routines (movement, stretching, journaling) and skip small steps that keep the day steady.
  • In relationships, we “solution‑drop” (offer a quick fix) instead of listening, because listening is a high‑effort choice.

Everyday systems to protect our energy and values:

  • Make important decisions early, in calm windows. Morning or low‑stress moments help our head and gut cooperate. Even 10 minutes in a quiet place can improve the outcome.
  • Choose clothes the night before. Or narrow the wardrobe (uniforms or simple mixes). Fewer early decisions mean more energy for what matters.
  • Plan the day before bed. Name tomorrow’s top three, block time, and pre‑decide meals. We wake to execution, not endless micro‑choices.
  • Keep life simple where you can. Complexity is cognitively expensive. Trim systems, reduce clutter, consolidate tools. A simpler setup makes better decisions easier.
  • Delegate and democratize choices. Let a partner pick the restaurant, a colleague own a small project call, or kids choose the weekend activity. Shared decisions build trust and reduce load.
  • Take a short nap. Even 10–30 minutes can restore focus and self‑control. If naps aren’t possible, try a brief reset: a walk, breathwork, or quiet pause.
  • Know our priorities. Clear values turn many choices into quick, clean moves. If health, family time, and learning are top priorities, we can align fast and stop over‑torturing ourselves.

A note to leaders, and about leadership:
Leaders face layered decision loads—personal, team, and organizational. When we hit fatigue, the risks ripple outward. Two practices help:

  • Decision tiers: define which decisions are strategic (we own), tactical (we co‑own), and operational (others own within guardrails). This reduces bottlenecks and builds trust.
  • Decision hygiene: use small checklists, time boxes, and “front page” tests (would we be comfortable with this being public?) for higher‑stakes calls. Protect our peak hours for the decisions that need us most.

An anti-oppressive note:

Decision fatigue does not affect everyone equally. Systemic forces—racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, xenophobia—along with economic challenges, immigration status, caregiving responsibilities, disability, health, and access to transit, housing, and safe workplaces shape both the number of decisions individuals must carry and the costs those decisions impose.

In practical terms, this means:

  • Uneven decision load. Marginalized groups often navigate additional, high‑stakes choices (e.g., route safety, documentation requirements, accommodation requests, bias management), increasing daily cognitive burden beyond routine work and home decisions.
  • Higher access costs. Time, money, and energy spent securing childcare, transit, healthcare, or workplace accommodations amplify fatigue and reduce capacity for later decisions.
  • Safety as a decision criterion. Choices that seem minor for some (e.g., attending an evening meeting, using a particular transit line) carry safety considerations for others, changing the calculation and increasing load.
  • Hidden labor. Managing discrimination, microaggressions, or surveillance creates constant micro‑decisions (respond, redirect, document, let go), which erode self‑regulation over the day.
  • Structural defaults. Systems often default to options that disadvantage those without flexible schedules, reliable transit, or legal protections, forcing more active decision‑making to avoid harm.

Ways to make decision environments fairer (for yourself and others):

  • Reduce avoidable decisions. Standardize supportive defaults (clear scheduling windows, transparent policies, accessible forms) that don’t require extra advocacy to access.
  • Build accommodations in by design. Offer flexible timing, remote/hybrid options, quiet rooms, interpreters, and assistive tech without requiring individual negotiation each time.
  • Name access costs in planning. Budget time, transit, childcare, and health needs as part of project timelines; avoid last‑minute changes that shift burdens onto those with fewer resources.
  • Share power in decisions. Include those most affected in setting priorities and timelines; create clear decision tiers so burdens and benefits are distributed more equitably.
  • Treat safety and belonging as core outcomes. Evaluate options not only for efficiency but for psychological and physical safety, community ties, and dignity.

The aim is not to add complexity but to remove unnecessary decisions and make necessary ones less costly—so more people can preserve judgment, self‑regulation, and well‑being throughout the day.

Want more?

Practices to Reduce Decision Fatigue Worksheet

Support That Meets You Where You Are:
If you want structure and a companion in this work, 1:1 coaching offers thought partnership, parts‑aware practices, and practical plan‑building: Transformative Coaching. Group spaces explore resilience, identity, and emotional intelligence with community support: Classes & Groups. For organizations, facilitation can align structures with human needs so people have room to move forward: Consulting.

Find Carrie E. Neal here.


For some additional nerdy reading:

Deciding with Confidence: Consequence Mapping

When we’re facing an important decision, the “best” option can feel hard to imagine—especially when other people’s advice reflects their lives more than ours. One simple way to open our imaginations and get clear perspective is to compare future consequences. Looking ahead shows not just what each path is, but what it asks of us and what it gives back.

As we map outcomes, we can also practice trusting ourselves—naming our values, constraints, and capacities—and noticing where our intuition and evidence converge. Reflective practice makes this trust durable: a brief pause to journal, gather feedback, and revisit similar decisions helps us see patterns we can learn from. In leadership, this approach matters twice: we’re deciding for ourselves and stewarding impact for others.

Consequence mapping, paired with self‑trust and reflection, turns self-leadership into a grounded practice—clear about trade‑offs, honest about risk, and aligned with the people and principles we serve.

An anti‑oppressive note:

Choices don’t land equally. Systemic forces—racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, xenophobia—together with economic precarity, immigration status, disability, health, caregiving responsibilities, and access to housing, transportation, and safe workplaces—shape both the options we’re offered and the consequences we can absorb. Belonging practices—community care, accommodations, and culturally grounded ways of deciding—are valid and necessary, not “extras.”

When we compare consequences, we can make the process kinder and more accurate by:

  • Naming constraints without blame. Write down the access costs (time, money, energy, safety, transit, childcare, health needs, documentation status) that each option would impose. Acknowledge that “feasibility” is social and structural, not just personal motivation.
  • Including supports explicitly. Add the accommodations, stipends, flexible scheduling, remote/hybrid possibilities, relocation aid, childcare assistance, or community care that could change the picture. Ask for them where possible; they are part of fair decision‑making.
  • Treating safety and belonging as core criteria. If an option reduces safety (e.g., hostile work culture, unsafe commute, loss of essential community), weigh that as a primary consequence, not a footnote.
  • Inviting multiple perspectives. When power differences are involved, slow the pace and gather input from those most affected (family, caregivers, colleagues, community elders). Lived experience improves consequence mapping.
  • Using accessible tools. Simple checklists, structured interviews, shared decision‑making templates, and values‑alignment grids reduce bias while leaving room for intuition and culture‑based wisdom.
  • Accounting for uneven risk exposure. Note who carries the time burden, who loses income or benefits, who faces increased surveillance or health risk, and who benefits. Aim to share burdens and benefits more fairly.
  • Building in pacing and recovery. If an option demands more labor from those already carrying a lot, plan for rest, redistributing tasks, or phasing changes to prevent harm.
  • Protecting confidentiality. If immigration status, health, or disability information affects consequences, build privacy and consent into how decisions are made and communicated.

This lens doesn’t tell us which choice to make; it helps us see the real landscape. We deserve decisions that honor identity, safety, capacity, and community—not just productivity or profit.

An Example

We’ve been at Company X for 12 years. Our boss offers a new role 100 miles away, with a small raise (3%) and one evening per week on site. It’s a role with more positive exposure at the company, not a lateral move.

Option 1: Decline the offer

  • Life stays the same: same home, same social circle, same role and pay.
  • No disruption to a partner’s job or kids’ school (if applicable).
  • If we were already restless, this option preserves the status quo—and may keep us in a position we hoped to grow beyond.

Option 2: Accept and commute

  • Slight pay increase but higher costs (gas, car service). A four‑hour daily commute reduces free time and social life.
  • We could explore hybrid arrangements (e.g., one or two days remote) to ease the load.
  • Evenings on site are okay; a partner may carry more weekday parenting. We avoid moving, but time costs are significant.

Option 3: Accept and relocate

  • Selling the home may work financially. If no kids yet and a partner isn’t working, timing may be favorable.
  • We gain the raise and a new role; we’ll miss our current network, but weekend visits and nearby relatives (within 25 miles) could soften the transition.
  • We trade proximity to current community for potential growth and new support patterns.

Decision‑time:
We select the option with the most positive, realistic consequences for us and our family. Then we back the choice: plan the steps, set timelines, and build supports (budget, childcare, commute adjustments, community).

Action prompt:
Pick one current decision and list three options. For each, write five likely consequences (money, time, energy, relationships, health). Circle the pattern that fits your real life and values. Choose, plan one next step, and schedule a check‑in in two weeks.

Want more?

Deciding with Confidence Worksheet

Support That Meets You Where You Are:
If you want structure and a companion in this work, 1:1 coaching offers thought partnership, parts‑aware practices, and practical plan‑building: Transformative Coaching. Group spaces explore resilience, identity, and emotional intelligence with community support: Classes & Groups. For organizations, facilitation can align structures with human needs so people have room to move forward: Consulting.

Find Carrie E. Neal here.


For some additional nerdy reading:

Putting the Power of Intuition to Work: Without Losing Our Critical Thinking

Most of us know more than we think we know. Intuition shows up as quick pattern‑recognition, subtle emotional cues, and a felt sense that something fits—or doesn’t. We’re using it constantly, even when we believe we’re being purely rational. How many times have we driven home on “autopilot,” our bodies finding the route while our minds wandered?

When we notice intuition and learn its strengths and limits, we get better at everyday decisions and big ones. Here’s how we can make our gut a reliable ally, without sidelining clear thinking.

Why intuition matters—and why we don’t notice it:

  • We’re faster than we realize. Much of our mental life is subconscious. Intuition is part of that speed—pattern‑matching from experience rather than step‑by‑step analysis.
  • We’re not blank slates. Our “gut” often reflects what we’ve seen before. That’s powerful in familiar domains, but it can mislead us in new or biased contexts.
  • We confuse “rational” with “right.” We like to think we’re logical. Often we’re narrating logic after the fact. Bringing the gut online consciously helps us test what we feel and what we think.

Everyday practices to tune intuition (and avoid traps):

Acknowledge the gut. When a feeling lands—tightness in the chest, a pull toward yes, a subtle no—name it: “I have a hunch.” Giving our gut a clear label makes space to examine it. We can then ask: what pattern is this drawing on, and what facts support or challenge it? The simple act of naming reduces the risk of pretending we’re “purely rational” when we’re not.

Challenge easy stories. It’s tempting to lean on stereotypes (including the idea that one gender “has better intuition”). In reality, capacities vary widely and grow with practice, context, and feedback. We can replace easy stories with better questions: what experience informs this hunch? whose perspective is missing? how might bias be shaping what we notice?

Look for connections. Intuition is strongest where we have experience. Before deciding, ask, “What does this remind us of?” and “Which category does this fit?” Comparing the current situation to familiar patterns—projects we’ve run, people we’ve hired, homes we’ve lived in—helps our gut read become more precise. If it’s unfamiliar, that’s our cue to slow down and gather more data.

Practice low‑stakes snap decisions. We can build speed and discernment with small reps: pick dinner quickly, choose a walking route, select a podcast without scrolling. Then notice how it feels and how it turns out. These low‑risk choices teach us when fast decisions work, and when we’d rather pause. Over time, we learn our personal signals for “go with the gut” versus “get more info.”

Nurture curiosity. Intuition about people often improves when we wonder instead of judge. Try stepping into someone’s shoes: what pressures might they be under? what need are they meeting? Curiosity widens our lens, improves our read on motives and character, and reduces snap misfires. A simple practice: ask one open question before forming a conclusion.

Put emotions in perspective. Big feelings can feel permanent, but most of us return to baseline faster than we expect. Whether we win or lose, the intensity fades. Let emotions inform us—energy, caution, enthusiasm—without letting them run the table. One helpful move: name the feeling, ask what it’s pointing to, and schedule a brief “cooling off” check before high‑stakes decisions.

Know our limits. We’re all prone to seeing what we want to see and missing disconfirming evidence. Create small audit moments: what supports this gut call? what contradicts it? what would change my mind? If we’ve misread similar situations before, add a safeguard (a checklist, a second reviewer, a pause). These gentle audits keep intuition honest and make it more useful over time.

Specific situations: people, purchases, fears, and conscience

  • First impressions of people. Early judgments can be useful—but not infallible. Keep an open mind and update when new data appears. Consider a quick gut read plus a second, slower pass.
  • When to stay silent. Even accurate hunches can strain relationships if voiced unkindly. We can choose timing and tone—or decide that saying nothing serves care better.
  • Major purchases. A home we love often beats market hype. Intuition helps with fit and joy; analysis helps with budget and risk. Use both: “Do we feel at home here?” and “Do the numbers work?”
  • Evaluating fears. Our brains amplify vivid, immediate threats. Subtler risks (like poor sleep or chronic stress) sometimes matter more. Name the bias, then weigh actual probabilities and impacts.
  • Conscience. Most of us can feel when we’re on the right track. A helpful test: would we be comfortable with others knowing our choice? If yes—and the facts align—our gut and our values likely agree.

An anti‑oppressive note:
Intuition isn’t neutral.
It’s shaped by our experiences and the systems around us. Racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, xenophobia, economic precarity, disability, health, caregiving, and immigration status all influence what we notice, how safe we feel, and what we can choose. Belonging practices—community care, accommodations, and culturally grounded ways of knowing—are legitimate.

To make intuition safer and wiser:

  • Slow down when stakes or power differences are high; invite multiple perspectives.
  • Check for bias: “Is this gut feeling about the person—or about the stereotype?”
  • Use accessible tools (checklists, structured interviews, shared decision‑making) that reduce bias without silencing felt sense.
  • Honor culturally rooted intuition and elder knowledge alongside evidence; balance both.

Want more?

Working with Your Intuition Worksheet

Support That Meets You Where You Are:
If you want structure and a companion in this work, 1:1 coaching offers thought partnership, parts‑aware practices, and practical plan‑building: Transformative Coaching. Group spaces explore resilience, identity, and emotional intelligence with community support: Classes & Groups. For organizations, facilitation can align structures with human needs so people have room to move forward: Consulting.

Find Carrie E. Neal here.


For some additional nerdy reading:

Make Change Your Ally: From Stress to Opportunity

Happy New Year! New year, new beginnings. Sometimes this can feel exciting, or at least it can for me. And other times new beginnings, or change in general, can feel pretty overwhelming, even out of control. But, while change is stressful, it delivers real benefits—and it happens within real contexts. Systemic forces (racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, xenophobia), economic conditions, caregiving, disability, health, and immigration status shape both the change we face and our capacity to respond. Belonging matters, and approaches like community care, accommodations, and culturally rooted practices are legitimate ways to meet change.

Without change, life gets boring. Even when things are good, routine can flatten our energy and curiosity. Novelty re‑engages our senses and attention, giving meaning a chance to refresh. A day alone can feel heavenly, yet long stretches of doing nothing can leave us craving purpose. Change disrupts autopilot and restores a sense that what we do can shape what comes next—at a pace that respects our bodies and lives.

Change can bring improvements. Shifts in habits, relationships, or work can unlock health, joy, and growth. Improvements can be small and accessible: a sleep routine, a boundary, an accommodation at work, or shared childcare. If we feel stuck, adjusting inputs—environment, routines, expectations, supports—creates room for new outcomes without demanding more than we have.

Change builds resilience. Resilience isn’t “toughness”; it’s our capacity to recover, adapt, and re‑orient. Within healthy limits and with support, engaging change strengthens flexibility, problem‑solving, and confidence. Too much change can overwhelm; too little can drain vitality. The goal is a workable middle—enough challenge to keep us growing, with rest, pacing, and community baked in.

Change provides opportunities. When our context shifts, our option set shifts too. New people, places, and structures bring different paths, resources, and timing. Possibilities include roles that fit our strengths, communities that honor our identities, or routines that respect our health. One may be exactly right for us—and we can explore through low‑risk, low‑cost experiments.

Embrace change and make the best of it:

  1. Be flexible. Change brings new options. Consider all your choices and stay flexible in your approach. Adaptability is underrated—use this moment to find a new perspective.
  2. Look for the silver lining. Keep your mind open to possibilities. If you stare only at the negative, you’ll miss the positive. Expect to find an opportunity that improves your life, and keep looking until you do.
  3. Learn. If the change feels negative, ask what led to it. What can you learn now to prevent a similar situation later?
  4. Stay calm. Change can feel overwhelming, and excessive stress makes everything harder. You’re not at your best when overstressed, so practice clear, kind self‑talk and steady your nervous system.

Welcome change into your life. It brings new opportunities, builds stamina, and keeps things interesting. Without it, life becomes dull and tedious. Embrace change and keep your eyes open for new ways to enhance your life. It’s natural to dread it—but it’s the only constant. When you learn to work with change, you set yourself up for greater success.

An anti‑oppressive note:
Change doesn’t land on all of us equally. Systemic forces—racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, xenophobia—along with economic instability, immigration status, caregiving roles, chronic illness, and access to housing, healthcare, and safe workplaces shape both the changes we face and our capacity to respond.

This post treats progress as restoring choice, not forcing productivity. That can look like rest, boundaries, accommodations, mutual aid, culturally rooted practices, and community care—not just career pivots or “powering through.” Pace matters. Access matters. Belonging matters.

When working with change:

  • Name constraints and context honestly; refuse self‑blame for systemic barriers.
  • Choose low‑cost, low‑energy experiments; request accommodations and flexible structures when available.
  • Lean on community—affinity groups, peer support, spiritual traditions, and localized resources.
  • Measure progress in ways that honor identity, health, and capacity, not just output.

The goal is relief and agency without erasing history or difference. Support that meets you where you are is not optional—it’s the foundation for sustainable change.

Want more?
Download this worksheet to continue your reflective practice:

Make Change Your Ally Worksheet

Support That Meets You Where You Are:
If you want structure and a companion in this work, 1:1 coaching offers thought partnership, parts‑aware practices, and practical plan‑building: Transformative Coaching. Group spaces explore resilience, identity, and emotional intelligence with community support: Classes & Groups. For organizations, facilitation can align structures with human needs so people have room to move forward: Consulting.

Find Carrie E. Neal here.


For some additional nerdy reading:

Are You Living in the Past? How to Reconnect with the Present

Are you living in the past? I ask because attention can drift to earlier moments or seasons in our lives—especially after change we didn’t choose. A simple check, without blame: is most of your energy going toward what used to be, and do present‑day actions stall because of it?

Daily rumination about “how it used to be” can feel like harmless nostalgia. Remembering a lighter season can bring comfort. But when it becomes our constant focus, it starts to block forward movement. When attention keeps circling back, there’s less energy for what’s happening now.

Sometimes dreams become the place we prefer to live. We look forward to sleep because it reconnects us with an earlier version of life. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming. Yet if nighttime is our primary doorway to a past reality, the present can begin to feel far away or less engaging.

Long stretches on the computer—scrolling, clicking, watching—can turn into high‑time, low‑presence habits. These moments may help us keep tough feelings at bay, but they also pull us from contact with what matters in the here and now. Many of us know that loop and need a gentle reset.

Escape loops show up as constant busyness: reading, cleaning, organizing, or even drinking to avoid uncomfortable emotions. Staying in motion can feel productive (and sometimes it is), but it can also prevent honest contact with the present moment. A short pause can be surprisingly clarifying.

Denial has its own way of sneaking in. We freeze our space and routines to preserve a lost identity or relationship—holding on to objects, layouts, or habits from an earlier chapter. That can make change feel safer. It can also make it harder to step into what’s next.

Seven small, practical ways to re‑engage the present:

  1. Name what’s happening. “I’ve been living in the past. I want to re‑orient to now.” Simple, direct, and kind. Naming reduces shame and increases choice.
  2. Make one environmental change. Clear a closet, move a chair, release one object tied to a stuck identity. Small moves send a signal: I’m here.
  3. Define near‑term goals. Choose 1–3 outcomes for the next 30 days. Write them down. Schedule the first tiny action. Momentum likes clarity.
  4. Care for the body. Sleep, nutrition, and movement aren’t luxuries—they help regulate attention and emotion. Even a 15‑minute walk counts.
  5. Practice feelings literacy. Allow grief and anger. Differentiate signals (sensations, needs) from stories (interpretations). If you use Internal Family Symptoms, meet your parts with care—a Protector may prefer the past; a Vulnerable part may fear present pain.
  6. Get support. A medical check‑in, a counselor, or a coach can offer perspective and partnership. You don’t have to do this alone.
  7. Add a daily present cue. One action that is unambiguously “now”: a short journal note, a call to a friend, a few mindful breaths. Track completions, not perfection.

An anti‑oppressive note: grief and inertia aren’t moral failings. Context matters—loss, systemic pressures, caregiving, health, work conditions. The aim isn’t to erase the past; it’s to restore choice in the present while honoring what’s real.

Want more?
Download this worksheet to continue your reflective practice:

Reconnect with the Present Worksheet

Support That Meets You Where You Are:
If you want structure and a companion in this work, 1:1 coaching offers thought partnership, parts‑aware practices, and practical plan‑building: Transformative Coaching. Group spaces explore resilience, identity, and emotional intelligence with community support: Classes & Groups. For organizations, facilitation can align structures with human needs so people have room to move forward: Consulting.

Find Carrie E. Neal here.


For some additional nerdy reading:

Mental Fatigue: What can I do?

I’m writing this at 1am. I have finally finished all of my other to-do’s for the day. I am not in top mental condition at the moment. I am tired. I can feel my mind wander. My bed is calling my name. And yet, there is a part of me that is endlessly interested in writing this post.

Irony drumroll please: This is a post on mental fatigue.

I can feel mental fatigue set in. I have a pretty decent stamina for making decisions, being alert and focused, toggling between reading, writing, talking, holding space for others, and my own perceptions. But, when I am exhausted mentally, I feel it physically. Sometimes I can’t make decisions. Sometimes I lose my concentration within a matter of seconds. My short term memory is effected and I have trouble expressing myself verbally.

For many us mental fatigue or exhaustion may be a result of cognitive load from our work life, our family life, personal conflict, conflict in society, or our choices (e.g. lack of quality sleep). Mental fatigue in healthy individuals can be observed and measured neurologically. When we are mentally tired it effects us.

So, what can we do?

1. Make better choices. (I will do this… starting tomorrow.)

* Get plenty of sleep. Mental fatigue may exist no matter how much sleep you get, but sleep does help refresh your body and mind. There is new research about how the nervous system responds to rest. Additionally sleep allows for processes that create change and restoration at the cellular level. Don’t underestimate the power of sleep!

2. Take personal time.

This may seem unattainable, but even a cup of coffee, 5 minutes of bathroom reading, or a favorite podcast on your subway ride can create rest. I love to recommend taking a day long vacation, and taking time alone, but I know that is not attainable for many of us. If you can – take yourself on a date (alone).

* Take a day in which you can do things by yourself. Take yourself out to a movie, go to a museum or art gallery, or do something you’ve always wanted to do but never made time for. In doing so, you’ll be able to enjoy the peace and quiet of being alone.

3. Reflect.

Reflection is different for each person. Depending on your learning styles, personality and life situation, how you reflect may take many forms. I am the kind of person who likes to reflect in silence. Often the few minutes before I fall asleep at night is my time to reflect. Often this is my time to think through my day, identify synchronicities, and engage gratitude.

* Spend some time reflecting. Try to make this protected time, and a habit. Everyone has a different way of self-reflection. Some pray or meditate, others write in a journal or diary, while others simply allow their thoughts to gently release. Sometimes it helps to do something repetitive, like SAORI weaving, or adult coloring books, or a walking meditation. Try different ways to reflect until you know what king of reflecting practices work for you.

4. Get distracted. (Yes, I said it.)

Many of us are taught to dwell on what is bothering us. Sometimes the dwelling is masked as problem-solving. Thinking about the same things over and over only reifies the thoughts, making it harder to think new thoughts. I find that when I am conscious of my swirling thoughts I have an opportunity to disrupt that thinking. Distraction can be an excellent disrupter. I find myself going to productive distractions (like cooking or quilting) that both feed me and disrupt my swirling mind.

* Take your mind off of those things that are causing you stress by working on a puzzle or spending time with friends and family. You could remind yourself an interest that you have and engage in that, or watch some online videos (kittens anyone?). You could even let yourself engage in beginner’s mind and learn a new craft, skill or art.

5. Move our bodies.

Not all of us take the time to remember that we are incarnate. I find myself spending much of my time attending to thoughts and emotions, and much less time remembering that I am embodied. Not all of us are able-bodied, but for those of us who can move – let’s take advantage of that.

* Gentle movement, aware movement, traditional HIIT training and low impact movement all support our immune systems, our mental health, and our brain health. And depending on the kind of movement, you may also be releasing endorphins. These are brain chemicals which make us feel happy! It’s like the body’s natural “high.” Even if all you can do is take a 15-minute walk, take it.

6. Remember to breathe.

* Try breathing exercises. Cultures have been using breathing exercises to reduce stress for some 8000 years. You can find some exercises recommended by Michigan Medicine at the University of Michigan in the Citations below.

Don’t forget how creative you are!

These are just some strategies to combat mental fatigue. You may have some other methods that help you relax and find peace in your life. It may seem like a lot to try to address mental fatigue (mostly because we are tired thinking about making decisions, planning or strategizing may add to the mental fatigue in the moment). Maybe the key is to stop thinking and begin doing. Or, if you are like me, stop doing, and go to bed before midnight!

An anti‑oppressive note:
Mental fatigue is not a personal failure. It emerges within real contexts—workload and labor precarity, caregiving demands, systemic racism and sexism, ableism, economic stress, unsafe housing, health disparities, and ongoing collective trauma. These conditions shape attention, sleep, mood, and energy. The aim isn’t to “power through” or self‑blame; it’s to restore choice and care in the present while honoring constraints and identities.

Want more?
Download this worksheet to continue your reflective practice:

Mental Fatigue Worksheet

Support That Meets You Where You Are:
If you want structure and a companion in this work, 1:1 coaching offers thought partnership, parts‑aware practices, and practical plan‑building: Transformative Coaching. Group spaces explore resilience, identity, and emotional intelligence with community support: Classes & Groups. For organizations, facilitation can align structures with human needs so people have room to move forward: Consulting.

Find Carrie E. Neal here.


For some additional nerdy reading: