We all have those days when we’re running on empty but still trying to keep it together for everyone else.
I’ve noticed that the words we use can give us away—even when we think we’re hiding the exhaustion well.
Some phrases slip out of my own mouth on long work-from-home days when Greta is turning the living room into an art shop, Emil is pulling every pan out of the cabinet, and I’m still juggling emails.
They’re the same words I’ve heard from friends, parents at school pickup, or even colleagues back in my corporate days.
These little words and phrases don’t just fill the air. They signal something deeper—fatigue, sadness, or the feeling of being stretched too thin.
And often, they’re ways of masking what’s really going on inside. Let’s walk through eight of them.
1. “Fine”
How many times have you said “I’m fine” when you weren’t? It’s the most common placeholder for exhaustion.
I used to default to it after a long night with a teething toddler. People would ask, “How are you?” and instead of telling the truth—that I was wiped out—I’d just say, “Fine.”
The problem is, “fine” shuts down connection. It’s easier than admitting, “Actually, I’m barely keeping it together.”
But research reminds us that bottling emotions doesn’t make them disappear. As Sigmund Freud put it: “Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways”.
2. “Whatever”
“Whatever” often pops out when you’re too drained to argue or explain. I catch myself using it when my kids bicker about which story we’re reading at bedtime.
I don’t mean it literally—it’s more like, “I don’t have the energy to negotiate this.”
The word can come across as dismissive, but usually it’s a quiet flag of emotional fatigue. It’s easier to shut down a conversation than to engage fully when your reserves are gone.
3. “Nothing”
When someone asks what’s wrong and you respond with “nothing,” chances are there’s a lot going on.
I’ve done this with Lukas more times than I can count—saying “nothing” when what I really mean is “I don’t have the bandwidth to unravel this right now.”
It can feel safer to push the feelings down. But that just builds more pressure over time.
The CDC even notes that “persistent sadness might be a signal to slow down and reflect on what truly matters”.
Saying “nothing” is often a cover for sadness or stress we don’t want to confront.
4. “Just tired”
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve answered, “I’m just tired.” It’s the perfect excuse because who doesn’t understand tired?
But sometimes, “tired” is code for emotional depletion.
Back when Emil was a newborn and Greta was still a preschooler, I would use this phrase constantly. Yes, I was physically tired—but I was also emotionally fried.
Those two feelings overlap, but they aren’t the same thing.
As the World Economic Forum once put it, “Willpower is like a muscle that becomes fatigued from overuse”.
When our emotional reserves are gone, everything feels heavier—even basic tasks.
5. “Sorry”
Over-apologizing can be another disguise for exhaustion. I’ll apologize for being “distracted” or “slow,” when really I’m running on fumes.
It’s easier to blame myself for not showing up perfectly than to admit that I’m overwhelmed.
But saying “sorry” all the time is draining in itself. It adds guilt on top of tiredness.
If this is a word you lean on, it might be worth asking whether you’re apologizing for being human.
6. “Whatever you want”
When I say “whatever you want” at dinner, it’s usually because I don’t have the energy to make one more decision. The kids can sense it too—they’ll push for pancakes at 7 p.m. and I’ll just cave.
Decision fatigue is real. After a day of constant choices—meals, schedules, toy disputes—sometimes the path of least resistance is to hand the reins over.
But consistently using this phrase can also be a sign that you’re too drained to advocate for yourself.
7. “I don’t care”
This one shows up when the brain simply can’t process more. I’ve heard it in arguments, in planning conversations, even when picking paint colors.
“I don’t care” doesn’t mean we truly don’t care—it means the emotional cost of deciding feels too high.
I’ve been there when Lukas asks if we should book the earlier or later flight for a trip. In those moments, “I don’t care” is code for: “I care, but I don’t have the strength to think about it right now.”
8. “Okay”
On the surface, “okay” is harmless. But tone matters. When said flatly, it can carry the weight of exhaustion.
It’s the word you use to end a conversation when you don’t have the energy to contribute more.
For me, “okay” often slips out in the evenings after a long day of parenting and work. Lukas might suggest something for the weekend, and instead of truly engaging, I’ll just say, “Okay.”
It’s less about agreement and more about surrender.
Why these little words matter
These phrases aren’t dangerous on their own. But when they pile up, they can quietly point to emotional exhaustion we’re trying to hide.
That’s why I’ve been making a conscious effort to notice them—both in myself and others.
If my daughter comes home from school and says “nothing” when I ask what’s wrong, I know it’s my cue to sit beside her, not push for answers right away.
And when I catch myself saying “fine” or “whatever,” I try to pause and ask: what do I actually need right now?
A lesson I needed to hear
Recently, I was reading Rudá Iandê’s book Laughing in the Face of Chaos, it continues to give me new insights. One line that stayed with me was this:
“When we let go of the need to be perfect, we free ourselves to live fully—embracing the mess, complexity, and richness of a life that’s delightfully real.”
That hit home because so many of these “cover words” are really about perfection. We don’t want to burden others, we don’t want to seem weak, so we smooth everything over with “fine” or “okay.”
But hiding behind these words only distances us from ourselves and others.
The book inspired me to start noticing when I’m slipping into performance mode—saying what’s easiest instead of what’s true.
And honestly? That small shift has saved me energy. Pretending takes effort. Being real, even if it’s messy, is lighter in the long run.
Final thoughts
If you find yourself leaning on these words a lot, don’t be hard on yourself. We all do it.
They’re survival shortcuts, little shields we use when life feels too heavy.
But maybe the next time you catch yourself saying “just tired” or “whatever,” you pause and check in.
What’s the deeper message? What would it feel like to admit you’re stretched thin—or even to ask for help?
Exhaustion doesn’t have to be hidden. Naming it is often the first step to releasing it.
And as I’ve learned in my own messy, busy, stroller-filled days—sometimes saying the real thing out loud is exactly what makes you feel lighter.
