“I’m so tired, but I’m not even doing that much.”
Perhaps you’ve said this to yourself before.
You may have spent the whole day at home and still feel exhausted.
Perhaps you have taken a day off work, but somehow you don’t feel rested.
Or maybe you look at everything you’ve done and think,
“It’s really not that much. Why am I so tired?”
When someone tells me this, I often become curious about the words “not doing that much.”
What does that actually mean?
Sometimes, when we look more closely, someone has actually been doing 1001 things.
Work.
Family.
Errands.
Relationships.
Thinking.
Planning.
Worrying.
Holding things together.
Yet somehow, none of it counts as “doing much” in their own eyes.
At other times, someone really hasn’t been doing very much. They may have been feeling lethargic or exhausted for weeks or months.
In those situations, I would also want to consider whether there might be something physical or medical contributing to the fatigue.
Not everything needs to be explained psychologically.
When tiredness doesn’t seem to make sense
If physical or medical concerns have been considered and the tiredness remains, I become curious about what may be happening in the person’s life.
Has this been happening for a long time?
Or is it something that started recently?
Was there a particular event or transition?
Has something changed in their relationships, work, family or life?
Sometimes tiredness appears alongside a concern that has been quietly taking up a lot of space within us.
The body may be tired, but perhaps the story is not simply about how much we have physically done.
Sometimes rest is harder than we think
Some people find resting surprisingly difficult.
They finally have a free day, yet they become restless.
Their thoughts begin racing.
They start planning what they need to do next.
They reach for their phone.
They find something else to occupy themselves.
In therapy, I sometimes notice this in the body too.
Someone may become fidgety.
Their feet tap.
Their legs shake.
Their fingers pick or rub against each other.
Their eyes may move rapidly as their thoughts begin racing.
I become curious about something very simple:
Why is rest uncomfortable for this system?
Sometimes rest may be associated with danger or a past experience where staying alert was important.
Sometimes there may have been experiences that taught the body it needed to remain ready, rather than settle.
When the system has become accustomed to staying activated, slowing down can feel unfamiliar.
And unfamiliar does not always feel comfortable.
What does “rest” actually mean to you?
Rest can mean very different things to different people.
For some, it might be sitting in front of Netflix with a bowl of popcorn.
For others, it might be taking a nap.
Some people recharge by spending time with friends and family.
Others prefer being in nature, spending time with their pets, playing sports, drawing, travelling, getting a massage or pursuing a hobby.
There are so many ways to rest and recharge.
I don’t think there is one universal definition of rest.
What matters to me is what happens after the activity.
Do you feel more restored?
Do you feel more spacious?
Do you feel like you have a little more energy for what comes next?
If you finish your supposed “rest” and still feel completely depleted, I become curious whether that activity was actually restful for your nervous system.
Sometimes we assume something is restful simply because we are physically doing nothing.
But physical stillness does not always mean that our system is resting.
When rest starts to feel wrong
There are also people who struggle to give themselves permission to rest.
They may feel that resting is lazy.
Wrong.
Unproductive.
Or even undeserved.
“I should be doing something.”
“I haven’t done enough.”
“Everyone else is working harder than me.”
For many adults I work with, this way of thinking has been around for a long time.
The need to strive and perform may have been reinforced from a young age.
For some university students, I see this pressure very clearly. When everyone around them seems to be studying, achieving and staying productive, resting can come with a surprising amount of guilt or shame.
They may begin to wonder,
“Do I deserve to rest when everyone else is still working?”
Over time, rest can become something we think we have to earn.
Sometimes rest brings things to the surface
Interestingly, rest itself can sometimes feel uncomfortable.
When we are constantly busy, there may be very little space to notice what is happening within us.
When we finally slow down, there can be more space.
More room to feel.
More room to notice.
Sometimes emotions, sensations or discomfort that have been held at bay may become more noticeable when we finally begin to rest.
This can be unsettling.
And sometimes, when the discomfort appears, we immediately move away from it.
We pick up our phone.
We find something to do.
We start thinking about tomorrow.
We interrupt the rest.
Over time, we may even begin to associate rest itself with discomfort.
Rest is not the same as doing nothing
Perhaps this is something worth becoming curious about.
You can physically do nothing and still not feel rested.
You can spend an afternoon on the couch and still feel depleted.
You can sleep and still wake up feeling like you haven’t truly recovered.
Rest is different for everyone.
There is no right or wrong way to rest.
Perhaps the question is simply:
“How does my system feel afterwards?”
The purpose of rest is not merely to stop.
It is to recuperate.
To restore.
To have enough capacity to return to life and whatever comes next.
Perhaps rest is something we can learn
For someone who has spent years striving, resting may feel strange at first.
There may be guilt.
Restlessness.
Boredom.
Discomfort.
Perhaps even fear.
That doesn’t necessarily mean you are doing rest “wrong.”
It may simply mean that your system is learning something unfamiliar.
Perhaps, little by little, we can begin to discover what actually feels restorative for us.
We can learn to savour a quiet moment.
Enjoy time with people we love.
Move our bodies.
Spend time in nature.
Sleep.
Create.
Play.
Or simply do nothing for a while.
There are many ways to rest.
What matters is discovering what allows your system to restore.
Perhaps rest is when the system can finally yield
If there is one thing I hope you take away from this article, perhaps it is not a particular way of resting.
Rather, I hope you become curious about your own relationship with rest.
What does rest mean to you?
Do you allow yourself to rest before you are completely exhausted?
What happens inside you when you stop?
And perhaps most importantly:
What helps your system feel restored?
Maybe rest is not simply the absence of activity.
Perhaps rest is when our system can finally yield and restore itself.
About the writer
Dominica is the founder of Soulmatics and a body-oriented psychotherapist based in Singapore. She works with adults and young adults navigating trauma, anxiety, burnout, grief, and relational challenges, integrating somatic psychotherapy with counselling to support each person’s therapeutic process in a way that honours the Bodymind. Outside the therapy room, she enjoys drawing and running. You can read more about her here.