A few nights ago, I was jolted awake by a thought: What if something had happened while I was asleep? In the flickering light of the television I had left on, still half-asleep, I began fumbling around the bed for my phone, tablet and laptop, the devices I had, as usual, fallen asleep beside.

Setting aside the possibility that this is simply an occupational hazard, I would venture to say that, for many of us in Generation X who happened to grow up in the Balkans, the need to stay informed is more than understandable. Wars, sanctions, NATO bombings, political upheaval, social unrest and one crisis after another have meant that more than half our lives have been spent in uncertainty, fear and the constant tension of waiting for a tomorrow that might not necessarily be much better, but at least a little more normal.

And it is not as though we spent all those years sitting idly by. Yet despite the battered pots and pans and the shoes worn thin by countless protests, time and again we found ourselves back where we started. Each time we emerged from that vicious cycle, we were a little more numb. A little more subdued by a growing sense of helplessness.

And then the students surprised us.

With them came a renewed sense of hope that change was possible. That there were more of us than we thought. That we were not just a statistical anomaly. That we still had the strength to stand up for the values we believed in.

It is difficult to overstate how precious it is to rediscover the power of togetherness. But neither hope nor the reassurance that we are not alone makes us immune to exhaustion. Physical, mental or emotional. And when high expectations collide with prolonged uncertainty, while the desire for change here and now grows ever stronger, it becomes all too easy to forget to listen to ourselves and respect our own limits.

To remember that we have a right to our own needs, even in times of profound social change. That we do not have to put our lives on hold until we have checked the very last notification on our phones, scrolled through every news website, every post on X, TikTok and Instagram, and watched every possible news broadcast. Until we know what tomorrow will bring. Or the end of the week. Or the week after that.

But if we allow ourselves a break from everything that, for good reason, occupies so much of our attention, does that mean we no longer care enough? That we have lost our resolve? Or that we have taken the easy way out, leaving others to deal with matters that concern us just as deeply?

Lately, I must admit, these questions have often been on my mind. And yet, as someone who works on mental health issues, I know perfectly well that needing a break is neither a sign of weakness nor a lack of commitment.

One might also expect me to recognize the warning signs of accumulated exhaustion: the moments when my patience begins to wear thin, my concentration falters, and I find myself going through the motions of everyday life on autopilot. More importantly, one might expect me to know how to prevent it.

Paradoxically, it is not that I would struggle to find the right words for someone facing similar challenges. Quite the opposite.

What offers me some comfort is the realization, through conversations with friends and the experiences shared by members of the “Za Tebe #Važnoje” online support group, that I am far from alone in finding it easier to show compassion for someone else's exhaustion and need for rest than for my own.

It also reminds me of something else: sometimes, recognizing how we feel is easier than understanding what we actually need.

After all, acknowledging that we are tired, overwhelmed or emotionally drained is one thing. Asking ourselves what might genuinely help us is quite another. And then comes the challenge of allowing ourselves to meet that need, rather than pushing it aside because something more urgent has come along.

That is why, as we navigate this roller coaster of emotions, hopes and expectations, we must remember that self-care cannot be relegated to the background.

We need to listen to our own needs without losing sight of those of others. Because no matter how strong or resilient someone may appear, that does not mean they are not struggling with fears, doubts or exhaustion of their own. Especially when they have been giving everything they have for so long, while everyone around them silently expects them to keep going.

And perhaps this is where one of our greatest challenges lies: amid the turbulence of profound social change, not to lose sight of ourselves, the people we love, the relationships we cherish and all the things that bring us joy and fulfillment beyond the events shaping the world around us.

To free ourselves from the guilt of moments when our attention is not entirely focused on the latest news, or when we simply need a break.

I admit that I am still searching for the right balance.

Tonight, as a first step, I will turn off the television a little earlier.

And my phone.

And my tablet.

And my laptop.

And wish myself a good night's sleep.