Glad We Talked®

Why can I cope one week and not the next? Capacity, resilience and the different parts of us

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Some weeks you answer every email, cook proper meals and ring your friend back. Other weeks, the same things feel like climbing a hill in wet boots. Nothing obvious has changed. You haven’t forgotten how. So what’s going on?

If you’ve ever asked yourself “which one is the real me?”, the honest answer is: both. We aren’t one fixed version of ourselves. How we think, feel, move and connect shifts with what’s happening in our life, what has happened before, and what support we have right now.

This post sits at the centre of the How I’m Wired series. It’s about the whole of you, not one trait, and it starts with a word that gets used a lot: resilience.

If you only have a minute: your capacity isn’t fixed. It changes with what life is asking of you and the support you have. On a hard week, the answer is usually less load or more help, not more effort.

When I was growing up, I was shouted at a lot. When I became a parent, I promised myself I would never do that to my child, and then it happened. For me, it often began with going quiet. I’d freeze, hold things in and try to keep the peace, until one more question took me past my limit. From the outside, it might have looked as though I’d exploded out of nowhere. Underneath, it had been bubbling and simmering until I couldn’t hold any more. Understanding why didn’t make it okay. But what changed things for me wasn’t more guilt. It was understanding what was happening in my body and in my life, including my late diagnosis of dyslexia and neurodivergence and noticing that my energy maths didn’t always balance.

Is resilience a personality trait?

Mostly, no, although the picture is more interesting than a simple yes or no.

Resilience used to be studied as something special that some people had and others didn’t. The research has moved away from that. Psychologist Ann Masten called resilience “ordinary magic”: it comes from everyday things that most people have access to, such as relationships, a working body and brain, and communities that hold us. When those ordinary things are working, people tend to get through hard times. When they’re stretched or missing, people struggle, and that isn’t a flaw in their character.

The American Psychological Association now describes resilience as both a process and an outcome of adapting to hard experiences. A process is something that happens over time, in a place, with other people. It can go well in one season of life and badly in another.

There is another perspective worth holding. Some researchers still measure “trait resilience”: a fairly steady tendency in how a person responds to stress. One study of 797 adults across 42 countries found that, once people’s wellbeing before a hard event was taken into account, hope was the only personal strength that predicted a resilient path. So personal qualities do play a part. They’re just one part, and smaller than we’re often told.

Why can I do something one day but not the next?

Because capacity isn’t a fixed amount. It changes with what you’re carrying. A few ideas help explain why.

Stress adds up. Scientists Bruce McEwen and Eliot Stellar named this “allostatic load” in 1993: the wear and tear on the body from repeated or long-running stress. A single hard day is one thing. Months of poor sleep, money worries, caring for someone, or moving through spaces that don’t suit you leave less in reserve for everything else.

Our window changes size. Psychiatrist Dan Siegel described a “window of tolerance”: the zone where we can feel things, think clearly and respond. Tiredness, stress, illness and grief can narrow that window. Then something small, like a spilt drink or a change of plan, can tip us into overwhelm or shutdown.

I picture this as a Sandwich of Capacity™. The top slice of bread is hyperarousal: too much, too fast. The bottom slice is hypoarousal: too little, shut down. The filling in the middle is your capacity zone. Stressors press down and squeeze the sandwich thin. Supports are the fillings that widen it again, like rest, a quieter room, or someone who takes your needs seriously. You can build your own with the free Sandwich of Capacity™ Builder. It’s for self-exploration, not diagnosis.

Energy is limited, and some of us spend more of it on ordinary things. Writer Christine Miserandino created spoon theory in 2003 to explain life with lupus: each spoon is a unit of energy, and every task uses some up. Many disabled, chronically ill and neurodivergent people now use it, because it explains why a shower or a phone call can cost more on some days than others. At Glad We Talked®, we build on this with energy maths. Spoons count what’s in your hand. Energy maths compares what a situation asks of us with what we have available to manage it: our energy, attention, time, recovery, resources and support. There’s no exact calculation to get right. A busy, noisy shop asks more than a quiet one. A friend who drives you there adds to your side. When the ask grows or the support shrinks, the sum stops working, however hard you’re trying.

Skills can come and go with context. Many neurodivergent people describe a “spiky profile”: big differences between what they find easy and hard. Those peaks and dips can move with stress, sleep patterns, trauma sensory load and time pressure. Being able to do something on Tuesday and not on Thursday isn’t laziness or faking. The conditions changed.

Stages of life change the sum too. Growing up, leaving home, becoming a parent, caring for someone, illness, menopause, bereavement, retirement and ageing all change what life asks of us and what support we have. A strategy that held everything together at 25 may not hold at 45, not because you’ve lost it, but because your body, your role and your load are different. Menopause is one well-studied example. In research by Rachel Moseley and colleagues, some autistic women described feeling “more autistic” around menopause, with harder executive function, stronger sensory issues and exhaustion. For some, it was when they first recognised themselves as autistic. Experiences varied, though, and some people found parts of this stage easier. A later stage of life can also bring more self-knowledge, fewer demands, or the right support at last.

All four of these come back to energy maths. Stress, a narrower window, fewer spoons and shifting skills each change one side of the sum: what life is asking of you, or what you have to meet it with.

Why do coping strategies stop working?

Because no strategy works everywhere, every time.

Psychologist George Bonanno has spent years studying how people cope with loss and trauma. He and Charles Burton named the belief that a strategy is always good or always bad “the fallacy of uniform efficacy”. What matters more is flexibility: noticing what this moment needs, choosing from the things you know how to do, and checking whether it’s helping.

So if deep breathing helped last month and does nothing now, you haven’t failed. The situation may need something else: more rest, fewer demands, a different environment, or another person to help.

This is also why resilience isn’t only about putting coping strategies into practice. Coping is something we do. Resilience also depends on what’s around us.

Is it me, or is it my situation?

Usually it’s both, and that’s where the conversation gets more honest.

Resilience researcher Michael Ungar defines resilience as our ability to find our way to the resources we need, and to have those resources offered in ways that make sense to us. In his view, resilience depends on what’s actually available: support, services, safe relationships, money, time. He deliberately takes the focus off the individual so people aren’t blamed for struggling when there’s little help to be had.

Some writers go further and criticise what they call “resilience culture”. Their concern is that telling people to be more resilient can quietly move responsibility away from workplaces, schools and services that could change, and onto the person who is already struggling.

There’s a balance to hold. Our own actions still matter. Ungar himself says personal motivation is still an important part of how people adapt. Understanding why we respond the way we do doesn’t take away our responsibility for how we treat others, or the need to repair things when they go wrong. It just means we stop treating every difficulty as a personal failing.

At Glad We Talked®, we use a biopsychosocial model to understand what’s going on. Psychiatrist George Engel proposed it in 1977, arguing that medicine left too little room for the psychological and social sides of health. It asks us to look at three areas together:

  • Bio: your body and brain, including sleep, health, hormones, pain and your sensory system.
  • Psycho: your thoughts, feelings, memories and what past experiences have taught you to expect.
  • Social: relationships, work or school, money, culture, services, and how other people respond to you.

A difficulty rarely sits in only one of these. It’s a broad framework rather than a precise formula, and some critics warn it has been misused to suggest physical symptoms are “all in the mind”. We use it the other way round: to make sure the body, the person and their circumstances are all taken seriously.

When is it more than a bad week?

Sometimes a dip lasts longer and goes deeper. Autistic researcher Dora Raymaker and colleagues described autistic burnout in 2020. They found it came from long-running life stress and a mismatch between what was expected and what someone could do, without enough support. It showed up as exhaustion, loss of skills and lower tolerance for sensory input, often for three months or more.

You don’t need a diagnosis for your experience to be real. If your capacity has been low for a long time, or you’re losing skills you used to have, that’s a sign to reduce demands where you can and to look for support, not to push harder.

If things feel unsafe right now, please reach out. In the UK you can call Samaritans free on 116 123, any time. Our crisis support page lists more free helplines.

A gentler way to look at your week

Next time you notice yourself thinking “I should be able to do this”, try these three prompts:

  1. What is actually happening?
  2. What might be contributing? In other words, what could be making this moment harder?
  3. What could help?

You don’t need to work through every prompt at once, and you don’t have to analyse every interaction. Recognising one thing, even afterwards, is enough to begin.

Then pick one small shift. You could make the task smaller, use fewer and clearer words, change the plan, take a pause, or bring in practical help. Then return to it. What changed, and what still needs support?

How this connects to How I’m Wired

How I’m Wired is our free strengths and needs reflection tool for adults. It isn’t a diagnosis. It helps you notice how you tend to experience 10 areas of life:

  • Speaking Up for Myself: asking for help and setting boundaries
  • Planning & Focus: starting tasks, time and memory
  • My Senses: sound, light, touch, smell, taste and movement
  • Movement & Coordination: from walking to typing
  • How I Learn: taking in and using new information
  • Wellbeing & Interests: what helps you recharge
  • How I Connect: communicating and spending time with others
  • My Emotions: noticing, understanding and coping with feelings
  • Masking: hiding or changing yourself to fit in or feel safe
  • How I Think: problem-solving, patterns and details

Because capacity changes, your answers might too. A section that felt easy to answer in a calm month might look different in a stressful one. That doesn’t make either answer wrong. Both tell you something. You can come back to any section whenever you like.

Try How I’m Wired for free

Frequently asked questions

Is resilience something you’re born with?

Not mainly. Research now sees resilience as a process shaped by relationships, health, support and circumstances. Some personal tendencies play a part, but they’re one piece among many.

Why do I feel fine one day and overwhelmed the next?

Your capacity depends on what you’re carrying: sleep, stress, health, sensory load and support. When the load goes up, the same task can tip you out of the zone where you cope well.

Is inconsistency a sign of laziness?

No. Many people, especially neurodivergent people, find their abilities change with stress and context. Inconsistency usually means the conditions changed, not the effort.

Why do coping strategies stop working?

No strategy works in every situation. Coping well is more about noticing what this moment needs and adjusting, than repeating the same technique.

Is resilience my responsibility?

Partly. What we do matters, but so do the support and resources around us. Resilience is shared between people, families, communities and services.

What is energy maths?

Energy maths is the Glad We Talked® way of comparing what a situation asks of us with what we have available to manage it: energy, attention, time, recovery, resources and support. When the ask goes up or the support goes down, the sum stops working, however hard we try.

What is the biopsychosocial model?

It’s a way of understanding health and wellbeing by looking at three areas together: the body and brain, thoughts and feelings, and our relationships and circumstances. Psychiatrist George Engel proposed it in 1977.

Sources

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About the author

: Creative Health Innovator & Artist Practitioner, Trainer and Educator, BACP Accredited Counsellor and founder of Glad We Talked®.

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