Life feeling like a non-stop treadmill? Running so fast it's hard to keep up? The cost of living’s become a mountain many are struggling to climb, work’s eating every second, and the system’s built to crush you for existing. If you’ve ever missed replying to a friend, ditched a family thing, or said screw it to holidays, you’re not alone. Society’s demands are driving us into overstimulation—pushing us to ghost, not ‘cause we want to, but ‘cause we’re out of gas.
I used to crave connection—romance, road trips, chilling with family. Even planned to open a restaurant. Now? Smothered by bills and the grind to not drown. Since Covid, I barely see my family and haven't had a chance to see many. Holidays? Who has the time anymore? I’m not antisocial by choice—survival’s rewired me. It's everywhere: people miss birthdays, coffee dates, time with their kids, not ‘cause they don’t give a damn, but ‘cause keeping a roof over their head takes every bit of their time and energy.
This ain’t just too many notifications—it’s a society that demands more than you can give and slaps you when you stumble. Work consumes 100% of my time, leaving me too wiped to text back or show up. Then the system piles on, gaslighting us with fines for being human. Wrong turn following GPS for a delivery? Bam, ticket. Park for a minute to grab a meal? Ticket. Sleep in my car ‘cause I’m homeless? Ticket. I’ve lived this nightmare. One time, I was passed out in my car—no home, exhausted, could’ve been dying for all they knew. Nobody knocked to check if I was alive in the middle of Seattle in an opioid epidemic; they just slapped a ticket on my windshield. Another time, I parked for a takeout order, thinking it was cool. Before I could even grab the food, I watched a woman walk up to ticket me. I begged, said I was just trying to eat, and got a cold, “That’s not my problem.”
That’s not “isolated incidents”—that’s a system that thrives on our struggle. It doesn’t just fail to help; it punishes you for needing a hand. When you’re stretched this thin, you make mistakes—like driving faster to make ends meet. It’s an obvious side effect: pile on more unmet needs, and you push harder, take risks, cut corners just to survive. But the system don’t care. Glance at my phone for directions? Ticket. I tried fighting one in court, laid it all out—lost my family home, couldn’t even get my court date in the chaos. Their response? “We’re just following orders.” Are you kidding me? I was calling out the system’s cruelty, railing about the pharmaceutical industry, how they’re eroding our rights in ways that spit on the Nuremberg Code—stuff meant to protect us from forced medical BS. And they hit me with *that* attitude? Didn’t fly in Nuremberg’s day, and it’s a pathetic excuse now. Blindly enforcing crap that hurts people ain’t neutral—it’s complicity. I’d rather quit my job than violate someone’s human rights, and it’s a damn shame that’s not everyone’s line in 2025.
This is overstimulation in America: a suffocating cycle where survival leaves no room for life. If I’m not working, I’m recovering, too dead to explain why I’m always working. Some don’t get it—not ‘cause they’re mean, but ‘cause it’s hard to grasp if you're not actively living it. Some take it personal, poking at why I’m never around, blind to the demands crushing me. Others act like they’re entitled to my time when I don’t even have it for myself. Some worldviews might feel difficult to work with when I’m already maxed out. Others? I’d love to give a chance but literally don’t have the time. Don’t matter if it’s a friend, family, or someone who likes me I find attractive—society’s dragging all our connections through the mud.
Even when I snag a rare free minute, traditional “relaxation” can feel like a scam. Mindless escapes—binge-watching, small talk, numbing out—don’t cut it. There’s too much wrong to play fake-happy. I’d rather spend that energy on something real: solving problems, building solutions, working on projects that actually matter. Last thing I want is to be another zombie sleepwalking through a broken system, adding to the mess. But even that feels heavy when overstimulation’s got me running on fumes.
If I don’t text back or show up, it likely isn’t because I don’t care—it’s ‘cause I’m fighting to survive for myself or others. If I skip your thing, it likely isn’t personal—it’s exhaustion or I'm already booked. So many of us are in this boat, quietly pulling back ‘cause the system leaves no space for anything else. Don’t let this become another divisive issue we refuse to relate to another on.
We need more than people getting it—we need change. A system that profits off our struggle ain’t freedom; it’s oppression with extra paperwork. We need a world where work don’t swallow you whole or take your soul, where holidays feel like joy instead of a chore, where folks can actually breathe. Let’s give each other some grace. Don’t assume anyone is dodging you. Don’t take it personal if someone isn’t there. Listen to what I’m carrying. ‘Cause right now, too many of us are hanging by a thread, and the last thing we care is another weight we can’t bear.