



What happens when we don’t respect our capacity? When we push past our limits? When we allow ourselves - or even welcome - depletion, like it’s a normal part of life?
I once believed the myth that depletion was a part of living and that self-care would fill me back up.
Empaths have a large capacity. We are used to being a container and holding a lot. The world pushes our limits and requires that we have a larger capacity in order to survive. Living in an insensitive world forces us to accommodate.
I was the most sensitive person in my family. Since my parents weren’t clued in to their own emotional worlds, they weren’t paying attention to mine. I did the holding in my family: noticing the energy of the room, the nonverbals of my parents, picking up on their worries and struggles. My capacity was challenged, and I was pushed to hold more than my share. This is the consequence of living in emotionally immature family. (To learn more, check out Alice Miller's book The Drama of the Gifted Child).

The people in my life did not honor or protect my sensitivity. Instead they leveraged it to meet their own emotional needs. I did not grow up learning how to protect it. So I pushed past my limits on a regular basis. I thought that’s what life was - you get exhausted, worn out and you “recharge” on your own time.
The pattern continued into adulthood and I put myself in situations where my empathy was misused. I entertained people who drained me. I tried to survive toxic jobs. I voluntarily gave my energy away, reconciling the cost with a robust toolbox of self-care activities.
This approach missed the mark completely. Plus, in time, it stopped working. My capacity dwindled and my sensitivity increased. I was exhausted more often and I could no longer rebound.
What if I stopped letting myself be depleted? What if I removed myself from people and places that drained me? What if I kept some of the good for myself?

I think we can take a move from the chronic illness playbook. People living with chronic disease learn to pace their activity. Pacing helps interrupt the cycle of flares and bad days.
When people living with autoimmune disease have a good day, they tend to do a lot. They tackle their outdated to-do list and do as much as they can because they finally feel good. They have the energy and motivation to do more than usual. They feel normal on these days, like their capacity is larger and finally where they want it to be.
What inevitably happens is that a crash follows the good day. They have pushed too hard and now inadvertently triggered a flare. They are exhausted and used up, unable to do much. They cease as much activity as possible because they feel pain, fatigue, malaise. They rest and restrict activity until they have a good day again and get up to do all the things. And the cycle repeats.
A solution is to pace oneself. (I argue that another solution is to reduce and remove triggers when possible). The key is to pace activity and energy and not overdo it on the good days. To lean in to the energy but in a gentle way. And on the low days, to also pace oneself.
What if empaths and HSPs similarly paced themselves? Held on to more of the good for themselves? What if they didn’t push as hard as they feel they could, didn’t give as much of themselves?
What if we stopped before we are depleted? What if we learned the warning signs, the glimmers that say “That’s enough for now.”
If we didn’t enter states of depletion, we could sustain more over the long term. We could be of use for ourselves and the people we care about. This is true self-care.
Repeat after me…
I am allowed to pause
I am allowed to say “Let me think about that” and “I’ll get back to you”
I am allowed to leave people & places that misuse my empathy
I don’t have to deplete myself
I can pace myself
I can rest as often as I need
I don’t have to earn rest. It is not a reward but a necessary part of life.
I am allowed to not overcommit myself
I am allowed to consider my capacity before I agree to a request or accept an invitation
I am allowed to save some of the good for myself
It is okay if my pace is different from others

Do you know what depletes you? What costs you too much? Can you spot the signs of flagging capacity before you reach exhaustion?
What would it look like to stop before you’re depleted? What would it look like to avoid situations and people that drain all the energy out of you? What would that type of self-care look like?