You named what so many of us carry in silence: the cult of constant motion, the grind-as-god, the trauma-suit we were praised for wearing until it nearly killed us.
“Rest is where the danger used to live.” That line punched me straight in the parasympathetic. The nervous system doesn’t lie, but capitalism does—every damn day, whispering that collapse is commitment and stillness is sloth.
But you? You’ve become a prophet of the pause.
Thank you for turning your breakdown into a blessing for the rest of us still learning how to breathe without apology. This is sacred rebellion.
A timely post. I provided respite care for a young woman with Druvet Syndrome. Her mother would not, could not slow down and had a massive panic attack that required a visit to the ER yesterday morning, paramedics and all. She took all manner of medications to sleep and literally had a psychotic break. I’ve seen that sort of thing my entire life, in myself as well. I used to be an overachiever, people pleaser, over-functioning in every disaster. I cannot live that way any longer. Thank you for using the term over-functioning. I now equate health with true wealth. Mental health, spiritual health and physical health. I’m back to basics…choose life, do not give up. My addendum would be do not accept responsibility that is not truly our’s to accept. I was always overly responsible, I can see now.
❤️. I cried through that. This is me. You just defined ME. I’m sooo tired. Thank you for breaking this all down. I’m 71 and have done this my whole life. I’m still doing it- and I’m just tired. Period.
After 20 years of frantic self employment, 14 hour days, I took a salary job with evenings and weekends off, paid vacations, sick leave, the works. That first Saturday morning was the first time in 20 years that I didn’t feel I should have been busy somewhere else. Ahhhh! Highly recommend.
”Here’s what nobody tells you about healing from this shit: The healthier you get, the more you realize how sick you were.
When you finally start honoring your needs, you see how long you ignored them. When you finally set boundaries, you see how violated they were. When you finally rest, you feel how exhausted you’ve always been.”
I feel like I wrote 90% of this. Or like it was written just for me. There are so many but the nail on the head brutal realizations pounded into this piece. AND - I hear you, I believe you, I know what you’re saying is 100% true - - but my heart doesn’t believe it yet. My mind can’t get to the page where there’s relief in the exhale. It still frantically attempts to fill the silence, fill the space. Holding myself to a pace and standards that are too high, too fast, not sustainable - but comfortable, safe, what I’ve spent my life doing. I’m just aware of it now, for the first time. I have on an actual to do list “stop and breathe and figure out how to balance this all better” but I don’t know how to do that so I keep ignoring it and moving it from one weeks list to the next, silently promising myself I’ll get to it at some point,
How long did it take you sitting in the silence, resting, exhaling, before I transitioned from deep discomfort to something healthier, more ideal, something you’re proud of or you know actually helps you? I talk about this regularly with my therapist but I don’t seem to believe anyone’s voice but my own, and the version of it I’m hearing is objectively pretty unkind.
Can very much relate. For me it was my Moms mental health that caused us to lose everything and my world to collapse. I made it, but getting out of “survival mode” is ALOT of work after this type of trauma. Thanks. You may have inspired me to write about my experience. I have considered it, just haven’t made the leap yet. Thanks for your article!
Workaholism wasn’t just a “bad habit” for me. It was survival. It was how I avoided the grief, the anger, the pain of my trauma bubbling up. I was trying to escape. I buried myself in 40-hour work weeks, then stacked another 30 hours of schoolwork on top. I didn’t just take post-grad classes. I enrolled in two programs at two different colleges at the same time. Why? Because if I slowed down, I was afraid I would have to feel. That I would have to face my trauma.
So I kept running. Achieving. Performing. Trying to earn the worth I was never offered as a kid. Chasing gold stars and promotions to outrun the shadow of trauma that still breathes down my neck.
I convinced myself that rest was dangerous. That stopping meant failure. That my value only existed in output.
But the truth is: I wasn’t chasing success. I was trying to outrun shame.
And, I burned out. Sleep was not restorative. I got tired of trying to outrun pain that was never my responsibility to carry in the first place.
Stillness isn’t weakness. But, it’s how we’ve learned to lie to ourselves when we’re used to running on empty and when our nervous system is hijacked.
I’m done apologizing for being tired. Done confusing exhaustion with identity. Done mistaking burnout for purpose. I now respect when my mind and body need rest.
I have been in a state of collapse for a long time, and I basically knew why; however, your post provided much-needed validation, reminders, and encouragement. Thank you! The more I rest, the more the "do or die" mode kicks in, so it takes a lot of allowance and surrender to rewire this poor survival identity. Whew! Ironically, I wasn’t praised or rewarded much when I did well (or even exceptionally well). I was chasing approval from a family that only had fear to give.
I can sense us slowly changing our perspective yet I think we’re still in the idea phase of change. We have IG memes praising the slow mornings but we’re still caught up in an overproduction mentality.
I’ve never been a “high performer” in the sense of how our world labels people but I’ve definitely been in space of terminal burn by over doing that lasted a decade.
Now even sitting down to watch a movie or to sleep-in feels like I’m doing something wrong- like someone is watching and judging.
But, the only judge is me still thinking that I’m not enough.
This is how I used to feel about rest. Unfortunately my body can't go without rest anymore. Chronic pain demands that I rest. But most of the time, or at least half of the time 🤣, I can do it without feeling guilty.
I think I understand my husband more now. Discovered you because you subscribed to my writing. Thank you! Will now subscribe back for more of this good stuff!
This really is inspiring. We do need space and real rest, even if the world around us doesn’t seem to value it. You’re so right about society glorifying burnout and productivity. It feels like we’re all just expected to keep marching along, from school to retirement, never questioning the pace. Refusing that "normal" and creating a new story is truly revolutionary. And it starts with giving ourselves permission to rest, to put ourselves first for once. That’s the beginning of something new, where you don’t need anyone else’s approval to take care of yourself.
I think that previous generations did have time, maybe not to rest, but to wander. No TV, no radio, no internet, and before that, no electricity. The mind could reset on a daily basis.
It’s a long, messy process, and I’ve seen it happen in my own life. I forget about real rest sometimes, too. Thanks for the reminder.
You just describe me, my journey and my overfuctioning struggles. This is me, thank you for capturing the struggles well. I am now honouring my needs first and rest without guilt.
This isn’t a post—it’s a resurrection.
You named what so many of us carry in silence: the cult of constant motion, the grind-as-god, the trauma-suit we were praised for wearing until it nearly killed us.
“Rest is where the danger used to live.” That line punched me straight in the parasympathetic. The nervous system doesn’t lie, but capitalism does—every damn day, whispering that collapse is commitment and stillness is sloth.
But you? You’ve become a prophet of the pause.
Thank you for turning your breakdown into a blessing for the rest of us still learning how to breathe without apology. This is sacred rebellion.
Thank you for such kind words. Sincerely.
“This isn’t a post-it’s a resurrection”, “still learning to breathe without apology”…Brilliant comment.
Great comment...these are the words I was feeling from this, but couldn't find. Thank you!
Wonderful comment. Amen.
Very, VERY well put!!!
Thank you. Well stated:
This isn’t a post—
it’s a resurrection.
A timely post. I provided respite care for a young woman with Druvet Syndrome. Her mother would not, could not slow down and had a massive panic attack that required a visit to the ER yesterday morning, paramedics and all. She took all manner of medications to sleep and literally had a psychotic break. I’ve seen that sort of thing my entire life, in myself as well. I used to be an overachiever, people pleaser, over-functioning in every disaster. I cannot live that way any longer. Thank you for using the term over-functioning. I now equate health with true wealth. Mental health, spiritual health and physical health. I’m back to basics…choose life, do not give up. My addendum would be do not accept responsibility that is not truly our’s to accept. I was always overly responsible, I can see now.
❤️. I cried through that. This is me. You just defined ME. I’m sooo tired. Thank you for breaking this all down. I’m 71 and have done this my whole life. I’m still doing it- and I’m just tired. Period.
After 20 years of frantic self employment, 14 hour days, I took a salary job with evenings and weekends off, paid vacations, sick leave, the works. That first Saturday morning was the first time in 20 years that I didn’t feel I should have been busy somewhere else. Ahhhh! Highly recommend.
This!!!
”Here’s what nobody tells you about healing from this shit: The healthier you get, the more you realize how sick you were.
When you finally start honoring your needs, you see how long you ignored them. When you finally set boundaries, you see how violated they were. When you finally rest, you feel how exhausted you’ve always been.”
Ohhhh How I feel this
I feel it in my bones
I feel it in my weary soul
I feel like I wrote 90% of this. Or like it was written just for me. There are so many but the nail on the head brutal realizations pounded into this piece. AND - I hear you, I believe you, I know what you’re saying is 100% true - - but my heart doesn’t believe it yet. My mind can’t get to the page where there’s relief in the exhale. It still frantically attempts to fill the silence, fill the space. Holding myself to a pace and standards that are too high, too fast, not sustainable - but comfortable, safe, what I’ve spent my life doing. I’m just aware of it now, for the first time. I have on an actual to do list “stop and breathe and figure out how to balance this all better” but I don’t know how to do that so I keep ignoring it and moving it from one weeks list to the next, silently promising myself I’ll get to it at some point,
How long did it take you sitting in the silence, resting, exhaling, before I transitioned from deep discomfort to something healthier, more ideal, something you’re proud of or you know actually helps you? I talk about this regularly with my therapist but I don’t seem to believe anyone’s voice but my own, and the version of it I’m hearing is objectively pretty unkind.
I don’t know how to get to the other side.
Recover the child. Be kind to the child within. Rewrite your history.
🙏🏼❤️
I feel like a retired actor. . .
The stage is empty. The puppets in boxes. The strings are loose.
The curtain has fallen. The audience gone home. . .
There is no Oscar. No BAFTA. No sequel.
The prize is survival.
It took cancer to slow me down. So I could hear that voice. The sound of authenticity and hope, whispering in the intervals, in my dreams.
“But you’re too young to retire, you’re just 52! What will you do?”
I will rest. And listen. Tell that voice.
I’m here for you.
Can very much relate. For me it was my Moms mental health that caused us to lose everything and my world to collapse. I made it, but getting out of “survival mode” is ALOT of work after this type of trauma. Thanks. You may have inspired me to write about my experience. I have considered it, just haven’t made the leap yet. Thanks for your article!
God, this hit too close to home for me.
I have lived this.
Workaholism wasn’t just a “bad habit” for me. It was survival. It was how I avoided the grief, the anger, the pain of my trauma bubbling up. I was trying to escape. I buried myself in 40-hour work weeks, then stacked another 30 hours of schoolwork on top. I didn’t just take post-grad classes. I enrolled in two programs at two different colleges at the same time. Why? Because if I slowed down, I was afraid I would have to feel. That I would have to face my trauma.
So I kept running. Achieving. Performing. Trying to earn the worth I was never offered as a kid. Chasing gold stars and promotions to outrun the shadow of trauma that still breathes down my neck.
I convinced myself that rest was dangerous. That stopping meant failure. That my value only existed in output.
But the truth is: I wasn’t chasing success. I was trying to outrun shame.
And, I burned out. Sleep was not restorative. I got tired of trying to outrun pain that was never my responsibility to carry in the first place.
Stillness isn’t weakness. But, it’s how we’ve learned to lie to ourselves when we’re used to running on empty and when our nervous system is hijacked.
I’m done apologizing for being tired. Done confusing exhaustion with identity. Done mistaking burnout for purpose. I now respect when my mind and body need rest.
I have been in a state of collapse for a long time, and I basically knew why; however, your post provided much-needed validation, reminders, and encouragement. Thank you! The more I rest, the more the "do or die" mode kicks in, so it takes a lot of allowance and surrender to rewire this poor survival identity. Whew! Ironically, I wasn’t praised or rewarded much when I did well (or even exceptionally well). I was chasing approval from a family that only had fear to give.
I can sense us slowly changing our perspective yet I think we’re still in the idea phase of change. We have IG memes praising the slow mornings but we’re still caught up in an overproduction mentality.
I’ve never been a “high performer” in the sense of how our world labels people but I’ve definitely been in space of terminal burn by over doing that lasted a decade.
Now even sitting down to watch a movie or to sleep-in feels like I’m doing something wrong- like someone is watching and judging.
But, the only judge is me still thinking that I’m not enough.
What a great common sense article!!! Eye opening to say the least! 💕
This is how I used to feel about rest. Unfortunately my body can't go without rest anymore. Chronic pain demands that I rest. But most of the time, or at least half of the time 🤣, I can do it without feeling guilty.
I think I understand my husband more now. Discovered you because you subscribed to my writing. Thank you! Will now subscribe back for more of this good stuff!
This really is inspiring. We do need space and real rest, even if the world around us doesn’t seem to value it. You’re so right about society glorifying burnout and productivity. It feels like we’re all just expected to keep marching along, from school to retirement, never questioning the pace. Refusing that "normal" and creating a new story is truly revolutionary. And it starts with giving ourselves permission to rest, to put ourselves first for once. That’s the beginning of something new, where you don’t need anyone else’s approval to take care of yourself.
I think that previous generations did have time, maybe not to rest, but to wander. No TV, no radio, no internet, and before that, no electricity. The mind could reset on a daily basis.
It’s a long, messy process, and I’ve seen it happen in my own life. I forget about real rest sometimes, too. Thanks for the reminder.
You just describe me, my journey and my overfuctioning struggles. This is me, thank you for capturing the struggles well. I am now honouring my needs first and rest without guilt.