Hello Reader,
What do you call the pain you can't name? I'm talking about the silent burden so many of us carry—a persistent heaviness that drains our spirit and leaves us searching for the right words. This distress often goes unacknowledged because it lacks a clear name, making us feel isolated and alone. I know this feeling well, and in my journey, I discovered that finding a voice for this silent struggle is the first step toward finding peace and healing.
Let's dive in!
Overflow is now on Substack.
Help Overflow grow on Substack and make an impact by subscribing for free.
|
|
Article of the Week
In this week's article, "The Unnamed Burden," I share my personal story of navigating career instability and emotional disconnection. It's a journey about finding the words to describe the indescribable and discovering that we are not meant to carry these burdens alone. I hope that by hearing my story, you’ll be empowered to start naming your own pain, finding the hope and healing that come from acknowledging what you've been carrying in silence.
The Unnamed Burden: Why We Struggle to Define Our Pain
Read on the website↗
Have you ever felt it? A heaviness in your chest, a shadow over your thoughts, a persistent feeling that something is just… not right. It’s not exactly sadness. It’s not a specific worry you can point to. It’s just a silent, unseen weight you carry from one day to the next. This is an unnamed burden, and it’s something countless people struggle with. We struggle to find the right words to describe it, which can leave us feeling isolated and alone in our pain. It can feel like a secret we can’t even share with ourselves.
What is an Unnamed Burden?
An unnamed burden is a chronic, low-grade distress that lives beneath the surface of our daily lives. It’s a feeling that shows up not as a single, overwhelming event, but as a subtle, yet gradual drain on our spirit and energy. This burden can look like constant fatigue, a lack of motivation for things we once enjoyed, or a general sense of unease. It can even take the form of quiet hopelessness, the kind that whispers things like “Things will never get better.” And because it doesn't have a clear cause or a name, we often dismiss it, convincing ourselves that we’re just having a bad day or that we should simply "tough it out."
I distinctly remember going through a season where I felt a low-grade distress beneath the surface. I was newly married, searching for financial stability. Much like a rug, the first real, stable job I’d known was pulled out from under my feet. I had applied for numerous roles, making it a challenge to keep track of them.
The only way I could keep up was by checking my spreadsheet, which I updated every week. It was a time when the job market was terrible. Businesses hadn't yet fully adopted online job postings. I spent a lot of time browsing newspapers and any online job listings I could find. Gone were the days when I was selective and only looked at listings that interested me. I would email and upload my resume to any job posting slightly related to my skill set.
For what felt like an eternity, it seemed like things would never improve. I was exhausted, drained of spirit and motivation. I had been ghosted before the phrase even became what it is today. I was doing my best to “tough it out,” but the unease and instability were palpable.
At the time, I didn’t connect the dots. I didn’t have a name for what I was going through. I didn’t realize that my recent layoff, along with the pressures of being newly married, was a reason for someone to seek help. I thought I just needed to “buck up” or “pull myself up by my bootstraps.”
Acknowledgment is the First Step
When a burden remains unnamed, it gains power over us. We can’t fight an enemy we can’t see. Likewise, we can’t improve something we don’t have a name for. Recognizing this feeling, allowing it to exist, and giving it space are the first essential steps toward finding relief.
When I was newly married and going through a tough time in my career, I didn’t know how to manage my emotions. I knew I was scared and slowly losing hope. I didn’t know how to accept what I was feeling. Growing up, the people around me at school or at home didn’t talk about feelings as openly as they do now.
I lacked the vocabulary to discuss my feelings or what I was going through. I didn’t have the right relationships to help me process these emotions. Yes, I had friends and family around me, but I wasn’t living my life in a way that would create opportunities when these conversations needed to happen. I didn’t know what the first step was or who I should reach out to.
I had lost hope while searching for jobs, but how can anyone truly give up on finding work when they have no way to support themselves or their family? At the time, that was the only thing that made sense. It was completely unrealistic, but that’s where I was emotionally. I didn’t want to end my life, but I was desperate for career stability.
If I could talk to my younger self, I would say that it's not about giving up; it’s about honest self-awareness. It's about admitting, "Yes, this feeling is real, even if I don't fully understand it." By acknowledging the burden, we break the silence around it and start to understand what we truly need. This brave act affirms our experience and opens the door for healing.
Finding a Voice Through Faith
For many, finding the right words to describe this struggle begins with faith. Prayer becomes a way to express feelings that our human language can’t fully capture. It's an honest conversation with God where we share our brokenness and confusion, trusting that He understands even the feelings we can’t put into words. We find comfort in scriptures that speak to a weary soul, like Matthew 11:28, which invites us to come to Jesus when we are "weary and burdened."
If you've never gone through a valley like this, you might not know where to begin. I grew up in church, reading the Bible, yet I still didn’t know how to handle the challenges of life and my faith in God. I’m sure I read Biblical stories of struggle more times than I could count, but I didn’t know how to apply them to my own life. I didn’t know how to turn to God and work through what I was experiencing.
I didn’t know how to cry out and share my hurt and frustration with God. Was it okay to feel hurt by my experiences and think that God had somehow overlooked my pain or circumstances? What does it look like to wrestle with my doubt? Many times, I felt disconnected because I didn’t know how to draw near to God while going through all of this.
One thing I've learned is that sharing testimony within a community is a powerful tool. When we listen to others bravely share their silent struggles, it helps us find the words to express our own. It reminds us that we are not alone and that our faith journey is meant to be traveled together, where we can support each other through our toughest times. By naming the unseen burden, we create an opportunity to make a positive change in our situation.
Notice what I didn't say. I didn’t say that it allows us to control our situation. The difference may seem insignificant, but it is important.
The weight of your situation probably won’t disappear instantly, but it becomes something we can face—something we can carry with the help of others and with the grounding hope found in Jesus. This is not the end of the road, but the start of a path toward peace, hope, and healing. I hope you will join me on this journey.
