You’ve cleared your calendar. The emails can wait. You’ve snoozed all your to-do list items. You finally have a window of time, maybe an entire day, with no fires to put out. But instead of relief, something uncomfortable creeps in. A sense of guilt. Restlessness. You can’t sit still. You notice an anxious energy that hums just beneath the surface. You might find yourself scrolling, reorganizing, cleaning, or worst of all, spiraling into self-criticism.
Sound familiar? If you’re a therapist, caregiver, or helping professional, this experience isn’t just common; it’s baked into the emotional labor you carry and the toxic productivity culture we live in.
Let’s unpack why rest doesn’t always feel restful and how to begin reclaiming your right to pause.
1. We Feel Undeserving of Rest
Many high achievers carry an unconscious belief that rest must be earned. We’ve been taught to equate our value with how much we do for others by how helpful, productive, or available we are. What we do is more important than our heart, so if we aren’t “doing”, then what keeps other people around in our relationships? So when the pace finally slows, that internalized narrative doesn’t disappear. Instead, it whispers things like:
- “I should be doing more.”
- “Someone else needs me right now.”
- “I need to finish everything before I sit down.”
This can be especially intense for those who were the “responsible one” growing up or who felt their worth depended on keeping the peace, anticipating others’ needs, or staying in constant motion. Over time, rest begins to feel like a threat to the identity we’ve carefully built, one rooted in usefulness and caretaking. The nervous system has equated movement to safety, so stillness feels dangerous.
2. Guilt and Anxiety During Downtime
When rest isn’t a familiar or safe experience, the body doesn’t know how to respond to it. We may interpret stillness as “laziness” (which is an ableist/capitalistic construct), or feel guilty for not using every moment “efficiently.” And because guilt and anxiety activate similar physiological pathways, like tight chest, racing thoughts, shallow breath, it’s easy to confuse relaxation with discomfort.
Even during moments designed for self-care, many people report feeling like they’re doing something wrong. Folks may experience:
- An urge to multitask during downtime
- Ruminating thoughts about what we’re not doing
- Emotional numbness or irritability
- A spike in anxiety after trying to “do nothing”
- Thoughts racing and circling when trying to “empty my mind”
Guilt is an expert shapeshifter. It convinces us that rest is a moral failing, that we’ve somehow betrayed our responsibilities. But often, that guilt is just a signal that the nervous system hasn’t had enough practice with safe rest. For some, they were punished during childhood if their parents came home to them resting instead of looking “productive”.
3. Hypervigilance in the Absence of Crisis
For helpers, crisis-mode becomes a second home. We become used to being “on” with solving problems as they arise, managing emotions (including our own), and making rapid decisions. Even when things slow down, the nervous system may stay in that heightened state, scanning for danger or the next thing to fix.
This hypervigilance isn’t a personality flaw. It’s a survival response. If we’ve worked in high-stakes environments (or grew up in one), our body may have learned that calm is never safe. That stillness only happens before something goes wrong. That if we let your guard down, we’ll miss the thing that really matters.
So when quiet finally comes? The system panics. It starts looking for what’s “wrong” to restore the familiar tension of vigilance. Which makes sense, the body and nervous system is designed to keep us safe. Unfortunately, the body may not have kept pace with the current situation. That may look like:
- Ruminating on worst-case scenarios
- Fixating on minor tasks
- Emotional overreactions to small stressors
- A chronic sense of unease
It is important to note that if you are a member of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, BIPOC, or other marginalized community, the ever-present threat of racism, homophobia, ableism, and the cis-hetero patriarchy (to name just a few) creates a daily crisis above and beyond the usual stressors of helping professionals. These ongoing, collective crises create a needed and valid hypervigilance to remain safe in a violent world. When the threat is omnipresent, rest does not come easily for historically and systemically marginalized folks.
4. We Try to Outrun Your Thoughts
For some, the discomfort of rest isn’t about “laziness” — again, this is an ableist/capitalistic construct. Instead, it’s about what rises to the surface when we finally stop. When we’re constantly in motion, there’s no time to feel. To reflect. To feel. To grieve. To ask uncomfortable questions. Slowing down removes the distractions and opens the door to emotions we’ve long avoided.
If you’ve been over-functioning and are a pro workaholic to manage past trauma, loss, or burnout, rest may expose the raw parts you’ve tucked away. Thoughts like “If I stop moving, I’ll fall apart” haunt us at night. So we keep running. Keep helping. Keep achieving. Not because we don’t want rest, but because we’re afraid of what will happen in it.
5. Your Identity Is Overidentified with Productivity
When your sense of self is tied to how much you do, rest feels like erasure. Then we’re not just taking a break, we’re losing the identity we’ve relied on for validation. And this goes beyond personal values. Our culture rewards burnout. It idolizes busyness. Hustle culture tells us that exhaustion is a badge of honor and that our worth is the same as our output.
Unfortunately, this is especially true for therapists, teachers, nurses, and other helping professionals. We’ve been praised for our sacrifices, for going above and beyond, for “being strong.” But no one sees the toll it takes behind closed doors. The way the body starts to ache. The way the soul feels hollow. The way we can’t enjoy a Sunday off without our brains whispering, “You should be doing more to prepare for the Monday onslaught”.
This overidentification with productivity becomes a trap where resting feels like a betrayal and where slowing down feels more threatening than burnout itself.
So, What Do We Do?
- Name the Guilt for What It Is
Excessive guilt is a conditioned response, not a moral compass. It often reflects social programming, not truth. We can feel guilty and still be deserving of rest. We don’t have to feel a certain way to act differently. - Practice Safe Rest in Small Doses
Start with 90 seconds. Rest doesn’t have to mean total stillness. Try things that calm your nervous system without triggering anxiety: walking, stretching, coloring, or jumping on a trampoline. - Untangle Your Worth from Your Output
Human value is not contingent on productivity. Folks are worthy even when we’re still. Even when not helping. Even when we’re simply being. See what happens when we start to create more space between who we are and how well we do something. Untie yourself from others’ outcomes. - Practice Rest as an Act of Resistance
In a world that glorifies hustle, Tricia Hersey wisely tells us that rest is radical (see her book, Rest as Resistance, in Inclusive Therapists’ bookshop here). It’s not a pause in the collective purpose; it’s part of it. Taking care of yourself allows you to show up with more presence and intention.Note: Tricia Hersey’s work centers and prioritizes Black women and marginalized people, especially those who have multiple intersecting identities that have been historically exploited for their labor. Her work has been deeply impactful in how I challenge dominant narratives around productivity/work and capitalism, as well as how I encourage my therapy-seekers to rest. However, her work is not intended to be for those who’ve benefited from the historical exploitation of Black, melanated, multiple-marginalized individuals.
- Seek Support from Those Who Get It
Working with a therapist who understands burnout, people-pleasing, and helping-professional fatigue can help you explore these patterns without shame. I recommend working with me or another licensed professional if you are a therapist, healer, or helping professional dealing with soul-deep burnout, perfectionism, people-pleasing, and overachieving in Texas.
Final Thoughts
If we feel more anxious when things slow down, it doesn’t mean we’re broken. It means the nervous system has been working overtime to survive in a world that was unsafe for quiet rest. But healing is possible. Not all at once, but in quiet, imperfect, gentle ways. In safe spaces. With safe people. One breath, one boundary, one moment of rest at a time.
You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to feel good in your own life. You are allowed to stop running.
