The Dam: When Flow Stops and Overwhelm Begins

There comes a point when the river inside you stops.
The current that once moved so easily turns still,
and the air feels heavy with everything you’ve taken on
that was never meant for you.

I used to call it stress, the tightness in my chest, the hum in my mind that wouldn’t turn off.
But listening to Mel Robbins’ podcast episode “The Difference Between Stress and Overwhelm” (2023) changed how I understood it.

She explains that stress is what happens when you have a lot to do but believe you can handle it.
Overwhelm, however, is different. It’s what happens when you’ve taken on so much — or so much that isn’t aligned with who you are — that your brain and body can no longer find flow.

That distinction hit me hard. My own overwhelm wasn’t a time-management issue; it was a soul-alignment issue.
I had been saying yes to what looked right, to what pleased others, to what filled the calendar.
In the process, I had dammed my own river.

The energy that once moved freely through ritual, writing, and connection was trapped behind a wall of obligation.

Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (1990) defines flow as “the state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience itself is so enjoyable that people will do it even at great cost, for the sake of doing it.”
Flow is not indulgence — it’s nutrition for the psyche.

Robbins reminds us that overwhelm is often the signal that we’ve crowded out the very things that restore us — movement, creativity, quiet, beauty, rest.
Our bodies notice first. The fatigue, the irritability, the sense of grayness are not flaws; they are feedback.

When I finally listened, I understood: my body was saying, You’ve been feeding everyone else and starving yourself.
The first step back to flow wasn’t pushing harder — it was pausing long enough to listen.

Because only when you feed your soul first can the river begin to move again.

Ritual Invitation

Find a quiet space and sit with your hand on your heart.
Ask yourself softly: What have I taken on that was never mine to carry?

On one sheet of paper, write three things that feel heavy or forced — tasks, roles, or expectations that drain you.
Whisper: I release you. I make space for what feeds me.
Tear that page gently and let it go — into a bin, water, or flame.

Now take a second sheet of paper.
Ask: What do I want to take on for me? Write three things that nourish your soul — perhaps rest, art, laughter, stillness, or time outdoors.
Whisper: I choose these to feed my soul.

Fold this page and keep it near — in your journal, on your altar, or under your pillow.
It is your quiet contract to let flow return.

Your Turn

When was the last time you realized you’d taken on too much of what wasn’t yours?
How did your body tell you?
Share a few lines — your awareness might help someone else release their dam.

References (APA 7 style)
Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990). Flow: The psychology of optimal experience. Harper & Row.
Robbins, M. (Host). (2023, May 9). The difference between stress and overwhelm [Audio podcast episode]. In The Mel Robbins Podcast. Sony Music Entertainment. https://www.melrobbins.com/podcast