Getting out of a rut requires effort. But what happens when you don’t have the energy, or the money, to make that effort? When your physical or financial resources are too low to rebuild your momentum, even small steps can feel impossible.
This is a trap many people fall into. The advice given—get therapy, eat better, go to the gym, take a vacation—assumes you have something left to give. But if you’re burnt out, broke, or both, self-care becomes another item on a list you cannot complete. In this state, frustration builds. You know what would help, but can’t reach it. The result is guilt, resentment, and deeper exhaustion.
The first step is to strip everything back to the simplest survival priorities. You don’t need to do everything right. You just need to do one thing that prevents things from getting worse. That might be drinking a glass of water. Brushing your teeth. Sitting in silence instead of doom-scrolling. Small choices like these don’t solve everything, but they hold the line.
If finances are tight, and energy is low, creativity and compassion become your greatest tools. What can you do for free? Walking, stretching, breathing exercises, or tidying up a corner of your room. None of these require money. They require patience with yourself. They are not flashy. But they matter.
When you have no extra energy, lean into the idea of micro-effort. One minute of journaling. Washing just one dish. Getting sunlight on your face for five minutes. These aren’t solutions, they are signals—to your mind and body—that you still have a say in your situation.
Financial hardship compounds everything. It reduces your access to healthier food, better sleep, quiet spaces, or time. In these cases, resourcefulness is about doing the best with what you have, not what you wish you had. Ramen and frozen vegetables are not ideal, but they’re better than nothing. Borrowed books and free videos can be learning tools. Low-cost or free community services might be hard to ask for, but they can break isolation and build stability.
Eventually, momentum returns—not all at once, but in pieces. A little more energy. A moment of clarity. A small opportunity. When that happens, it’s not about leaping forward, but recognizing it and continuing the process: one more step, one more day.
You do not have to fix everything when you’re at your lowest. You only need to keep yourself from slipping further. That, in itself, is a form of strength. And from there, with time, a new direction becomes possible.
