Episode 15: When the Adrenaline Wears Off: Naming the Letdown Effect

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Have you ever reached the end of something big—hosting, moving, launching, caregiving—and instead of feeling relief or joy, you feel... foggy? Flat? Off?

That’s not failure. It’s not brokenness. It’s called the letdown effect, and it’s a real, biologically-rooted phase where your nervous system finally catches up after being in go-mode.

In this episode, I share two very personal moments where this hit me hard, once after a simple playdate, and once after six months of robotically getting my family settled post-move. We’ll talk about why rest can feel so unfamiliar, what’s really happening underneath that resistance to joy, and how to meet it all with more self-trust and less judgment.

What You'll Learn

• What the “letdown effect” is and why it feels so uncomfortable
• Why joy or rest can feel unsafe after high-stress seasons
• How to recognize the crash in yourself and in your kids
• The thought patterns that keep us stuck in momentum
• Practical ways to support your nervous system during recovery

Episode Transcript

So here’s what happened to me on Saturday.

My parents had just left that morning after visiting for a few days. And literally—as I was closing the door behind them—a couple of moms and their kids walked in for a playdate I’d planned. Back-to-back transitions.

The playdate was great. Loud, full, messy, sweet. Nothing dramatic. But the moment they left and I sat down on the couch, I could feel this shift in my body. You know when the adrenaline just drops out from under you? That kind of slow-motion flatness? Like your system is trying to reboot but someone unplugged the charger?

I didn’t feel like doing anything. Not even scrolling. It wasn’t “tired” exactly. It was that strange in-between where you think: Shouldn’t I be doing something? Anything? Napping? Or shouldn’t I at least be grateful for this quiet?

But instead, I just sat there feeling…off. It was so uncomfortable.

So I texted two of my girlfriends (who are emotionally fluent unicorns), and both of them replied almost instantly like, “Ooooh yeah. That’s the letdown effect.” One of them shared that this is EXACTLY how she felt after her wedding.

It was such a relief to have a name for it. Just that moment of—oh. There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s a pattern here and it has a name and everyone experiences it. This is what we’re going into today.

And as we start, I’m wondering,  when was the last time your body suddenly “crashed” after holding it together for a long stretch? What did you tell yourself about that moment?

SEGMENT 1: CREATE AWARENESS – WHAT'S ACTUALLY HAPPENING HERE?

So, let’s talk about what was actually going on in that moment—me on the couch, staring into space, not wanting to move but also feeling weirdly uncomfortable in my own skin.

This wasn’t burnout. It wasn’t depression. It wasn’t even exhaustion in the usual sense.

This was my nervous system coming down from a long stretch of go-mode. The letdown effect is what happens when your stress hormones—like adrenaline and cortisol—finally ease up, and your body shifts into recovery mode. And ironically, that’s when the crash hits.

Your immune system and your emotional regulation both slow down after being “on” for too long. And that doesn’t feel like relief—it feels like irritability, fog, fatigue, even sadness. I’ve heard it described like this: Your brain says rest, but your body hasn’t remembered how to feel safe in rest yet. That totally landed for me.

And here’s where it gets even more interesting. I realized: this wasn’t just about the playdate.

This was layered on top of a much bigger wave I’ve been riding.

Because I’ve been noticing this same crash in a much deeper way lately. After our cross-country move, after setting up life in a rental, after another move into our house—six straight months of logistics, decisions, managing details, holding space for my kids and their transitions. I was basically functioning like a really efficient robot with a clipboard and a smile.

Now that we’re finally landing…my body is like, Wait, we’re allowed to rest now? And the answer is yes. But also—rest feels so strange. So foreign. Like I forgot how to let myself down gently.

This is why creating awareness matters. Not so we can fix it. Just so we can stop pathologizing it.

You’re not broken. You’re recalibrating.

 Where in your life have you been operating on adrenaline for so long that the idea of slowing down feels unfamiliar—even unsafe?

SEGMENT 2: ALLOW YOUR HUMAN EXPERIENCE – LET IT BE UNCOMFORTABLE

So here’s the thing: awareness is helpful, but it’s not always enough. Once I knew I was in the letdown effect… I still didn’t want to feel it.

My first instinct was to get up and do something. Re-load the dishwasher. Answer an email. Order the birthday party supplies for my daughter’s party. At least that way I’d feel productive, right?

Because here’s the truth: stillness is uncomfortable when you’re used to managing everything.

It’s uncomfortable after you’ve packed lunches, made it to drop-off, crushed a few meetings, remembered to Venmo for the field trip, helped with math homework, and held space for your kid’s 7:30 p.m. existential crisis about bees or death or why the rules are “so unfair.”

The moment there’s white space, your body crashes. But your brain whispers, “You should be doing more.”

And the danger is—we believe it. We override the crash. We scroll. We clean. We reorganize the spice drawer. It feels productive, but it’s not rest. It’s self-abandonment dressed up as hustle.

This is the crossroads. Do I stay in motion because it’s familiar? Or do I sit with the weird, squirmy stillness of coming down?

Let me put it this way:

If your child came home from school, threw their backpack down, and flopped on the couch in silence, what would you do?

You wouldn’t say, “Ugh, why aren’t you doing something?”
You’d say, “Wow, babe, it looks like you had a big day. Want to sit with me for a minute?”
You might hand them a snack or offer your lap or just let them be quiet.

That instinct you have to offer gentleness to your child? That’s the same gentleness your nervous system is asking for right now.

Sometimes allowing your experience looks like:

- Sitting on the couch after work without folding laundry.

- Saying no to a last-minute school ask because your system is maxed out.

- Crying in the car before pickup and letting that count as healing.

This is emotional adulthood. It’s letting your body land, even when your brain still wants to fly.

What would change if you treated your own come-down with the same softness you’d give your child after a hard day?

SEGMENT 3: ANALYZE IT – WHAT'S THE THOUGHT BEHIND THE TENSION?

Let’s get curious about what’s actually driving the discomfort of the letdown effect—not just physically, but mentally.

For me, the thought that keeps surfacing in these quiet moments is something like:
“I should be enjoying this.”

The house is finally quiet. The boxes are mostly unpacked. The kids are occupied. And instead of peace, I feel…off. Foggy. Irritable. Maybe even sad.

And my brain interprets that as a problem:
“If I’m not feeling grateful now, maybe I never will.”

Let’s pause there. That’s a heavy little belief, right?

If I were to run that through The Model, it might look like this:

- Circumstance: Everyone has left. I’m sitting alone on the couch.

- Thought: “I should be enjoying this.”

- Feeling: Disappointed, tense

- Action: I spiral a little. Maybe I numb out, scroll, critique myself for feeling off.

- Result: I don’t enjoy it—and I reinforce the story that I’m doing it wrong.

The pressure to feel a certain way is often what blocks us from actually feeling anything honestly.

Sometimes, it helps to use Byron Katie’s questions here:

Is it true?

Do I absolutely know I “should” be enjoying this moment?

What happens when I believe that thought?

I disconnect. I judge myself. I override my actual needs.

Who would I be without the thought?

Someone sitting in a quiet house, letting my body recalibrate. No pressure. Just permission.

One of the sneaky truths of high-functioning motherhood is that we often perform peace instead of actually feeling it. We light the candle. We make the tea. But we still carry the hum of guilt, as if real rest needs to be earned or optimized.

But what if nothing needs to be different?

What if the fog is not a flaw—but a signal?

What if we’re not behind—we’re just in the down part of a cycle that was always going to come?

So what thought do you notice creeping in when you’re finally still? What story does it tell you about what you “should” be feeling?

SEGMENT 4: ALIGN TO WHAT YOU WANT – A KINDER WAY TO RELATE TO THE CRASH 

So here’s what I’m noticing lately: when I let go of “I should be enjoying this” and replace it with something softer, something more honest—I breathe a little deeper.

Not a full exhale, maybe. But a loosening.

I’ve been playing with thoughts like:

“This doesn’t have to feel good to be good for me.”

“I’m allowed to feel foggy after a season of survival.”

“Nothing is wrong. My system is settling.”

I’m not reaching for joy. That feels too far away in these moments.

But relief? Permission? A tiny bit of neutrality? Those feel reachable.

This is the difference between pushing yourself to “bounce back” versus supporting yourself to reintegrate.

Because rest isn’t just something we get after the hard season. It’s the actual repair process. It’s part of how you become someone who can handle the next thing without falling apart.

And if I want to feel grounded, connected, steady again—it doesn’t come from powering through.

It comes from remembering:

That I’m not a machine.
That my worth isn’t measured by how quickly I recover.
That I can honor the slow return instead of forcing a performance of wellness.

This is alignment. Not in the Pinterest-perfect sense. But in the inner congruence sense. The “what I believe and what I practice are starting to match” sense.

And when I think, “This is the part where I land,” something in me softens. My body says, finally.

So back to you now: What’s one believable, compassionate thought you could try on the next time your body asks you to rest—and your brain resists?

STEP 5: TAKE ONE ACTION – DON'T RUSH THE LANDING

If you’re feeling that post-adrenaline fog right now—whether it’s after a move, a launch, a trip, or even just a regular Tuesday full of people needing things from you—I want to offer one simple action:

Do one thing slowly.

Just one.

Pour tea and actually feel the warmth of the mug.
Lay down for five minutes and do nothing heroic with your breath.
Take a lap around your block and notice three colors you love.

And do it with no pressure to feel better afterward. That’s the key. The goal isn’t to fix the letdown—it’s to stay with yourself in it.

That’s how we build nervous system trust.

If this episode landed with you and you want more support for staying present in your real life—especially in the quiet moments that feel uncomfortable—I’d love to invite you to join my coaching community.

It’s a group of 25 women strong right now, and we are:

- setting priorities that actually feel human and doable,

 - checking in on our thoughts, feelings, and actions (without judgment),

 - and celebrating tiny wins as loudly as big ones.

It’s not performative. It’s not hustle culture dressed up as empowerment. It’s honest, daily coaching with me and a community of smart, warm, growth-minded women who are doing this work together.

And here’s the part that always surprises people: It’s only $97/month.

Yep—daily support, coaching, and mindset tools for less than your weekly Target run.

So if you’re tired of doing it alone—and if you want some real-time help working through what comes after the hustle—I’d love to hold space for you there.

You can join anytime, and the link is always in the show notes!

CONCLUSION

Let’s end with a quick recap. If you’ve been feeling foggy, low, flat, or just off after a big push—whether that’s moving houses, finishing a project, hosting family, or just making it through a really full season—remember: you’re not broken.

You’re not doing it wrong.

You’re just landing.

The letdown effect is real, and it’s part of being human. It’s how your nervous system recovers. It’s what happens when your body gets the message that it’s finally safe to come down—and that “down” might feel weird before it feels good.

What if nothing has gone wrong?

What if this crash, this blankness, this fog—isn’t a flaw in the system, but a feature of your healing?

You’re allowed to land.

You’re allowed to feel weird in the quiet.

And you’re allowed to take your time coming back to yourself.

And a reminder for your action step, what’s one small thing your body is asking for today—and what would it take to give it to yourself without guilt?