Angie Kent posted about her extreme burnout. We felt that in our chest.

Burnout can creep up quietly, or it can slam into you like a freight train. For Angie Kent, it's the latter—and this week, she put that pain into words in a raw, honest Instagram post that left thousands of women nodding in solidarity.

"I'm burnt out, flat and creatively blocked. My nervous system feels like a fried egg most days," she wrote in a candid carousel titled Where I'm at (unfiltered).

Angie, 35, shared that she's navigating a difficult mix of life transitions and emotional exhaustion. She's moved to a new city.

She's managing a rescue dog with boundary issues. She's riding the rollercoaster of IVF recovery while trying to understand her neurodivergent brain. And like so many women, she's trying to hold it all together while quietly coming undone.

Listen: Is It Burnout Or Am I Just Really, Really Tired? Post continues below.

"I haven't slept properly in months (brought to you by post-IVF hormones mixed with navigating AuDHD). Fertility journey? Consuming my brain as always. Dating? Terrifying. But my brain won't shut up about it all of a sudden."

It's not just what Angie said—it's how she said it. There was no sugar-coating, no toxic positivity. Just unfiltered truth that touched on a universal feeling for women: the weight of being the emotional backbone for everyone else, while barely holding yourself up.

Her words struck a particular chord with empaths, givers, and "emotional support peacocks," as Angie so aptly described herself.

"I'm not 'too sensitive' I'm just running on zero spoons," she wrote. "I'm not 'toxic for not being able to show up 100%' I'm tapped out from being an emotional support peacock most of my life with no space to understand all-o-dis."

The comment section lit up with love. Not sympathy—but recognition. "Slide 2 makes me feel seen AND heard," one woman wrote. "I am all of these too ugh feels nice to know I'm not just completely useless," said another.

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A post shared by Angie Kent (@angiekent_)

This is the part of burnout we don't talk about enough. The invisible exhaustion that doesn't come from a single moment of overwhelm—but from years of saying yes, of holding space, of absorbing the emotions of those around us, until we're bone dry.

Angie's post reminds us that what looks like being "dramatic" or "negative" is often just nervous system overload.

"You're not broken. You're in survival mode," she wrote. "The resentment and sensory overwhelm are signals, not character flaws. You're sensitive to a world that's loud and thoughtless. That doesn't make you dramatic. It makes you exhausted."

These words hit differently when you've been there. When the dog barking, the unanswered text, the unexpected phone call feels like too much. When burnout isn't just mental fatigue—it's physical, emotional, sensory.

And when you're neurodivergent or an empath, as Angie is, that overwhelm comes faster. "Whyyyyy? When you're neurodivergent (aka spicy-brained). Constantly moving and relocating it's exhausting. It's ok to admit that," she wrote.

Image: Instagram/angiekent

She also spoke openly about the emotional toll of being a giver: "Holding space for your own trauma while people unload theirs… Just because you hold space doesn't mean you have endless room, and that's ok. You're going to feel resentful at times. And that doesn't make you a bad person."

It's the kind of post you save. Re-read. Screenshot. Send to a friend. Because in a world that often demands women keep showing up—no matter what—Angie's honesty was a permission slip to sit down. To feel it. To stop apologising for being tapped out.

And her message to those feeling like an alien in their own body, in their own life?

"If this post felt like a mirror, you're not crazy, broken or bitter.. You're bloody tired. And rightly so. Your feelings are real. Your needs are valid. And you don't have to carry it all alone."

That last line? You can practically hear a collective exhale across the screen.

Burnout isn't a sign of weakness. It's the red flag we wave when we've been strong for too long. Angie Kent's post didn't just resonate—it gave language to what so many women have been quietly feeling. And sometimes, that's the most powerful thing we can do: speak the truth, so others know they're not alone in theirs.

Featured image: Instagram/angiekent.

Mamamia has reached out to Angie Kent for comment.