When Rest Doesn’t Feel Safe

This morning I woke up feeling irritated, negative, and heavy.

The kind of feeling where you immediately notice what you didn’t do instead of what you did.

I had been sick yesterday, so I rested. I didn’t want to clean. I didn’t do the dishes. And when I woke up today, my mind told me I was behind, failing, and overwhelmed before the day even started.

As I sat with it, journaling and reflecting, something shifted.

I realized I’m actually not that behind.

I rested because I needed to. Today only has a few small things to get in order. The urgency I felt wasn’t coming from reality, it was coming from my nervous system.

That’s when I understood something deeper: my body doesn’t feel safe without constant output.

Rest has never felt neutral to me. It feels dangerous.

Growing up, relaxing wasn’t allowed if there were things to be done. Stillness meant criticism. Sometimes it meant punishment. So my nervous system learned a rule very early on: productivity equals safety, and rest equals risk.

That rule became engrained in my subconscious and followed me into adulthood.

It shows up as high expectations, constant self-pressure, and the feeling that I’m never doing enough, even when I am. It’s an internalized voice that says I have to prove, earn, and justify my existence daily.

Seeing this today was emotional, but it was also clarifying.

I’m not lazy.

I’m not failing.

I’m not behind.

I’m responding to an old survival pattern that no longer serves me.

The work now isn’t about doing more or trying harder. It’s about separating my worth from my output and teaching my body that it’s safe to slow down.

Today didn’t fix everything.

But today brought awareness.

And awareness is where healing begins.