Burnout for me lately feels like I’m in an elevator that doesn’t ever stop on a floor. It’s just hurtling through space with no end goal.
My job is easy and I work from home, so I judge myself for wanting more time off. I also don’t get a lot of PTO, so I can’t always take time off, even when I need a mental health day.
I also am really struggling with rest lately. I set off to rest more at the beginning of the day, but then my thoughts get too loud and I can’t sit still. I also deal with a lot of guilt over being unproductive or lazy because I see so much rhetoric lately about how unhealthy it is to be sedentary. For me I think I’ve struggled with my eating disorder for so long that it’s hard to disentangle being active from my identity. So when I’m less active, it feels like I’m losing a part of myself. I’ve always been very active, but I know that the last 18 years has been filled with overexercise. It’s such a hard behavior to conquer in the current climate and when I live in a community where everyone around me is really active.
When I do allow myself to rest, which I really want to do more often, I love to curl up on my couch with a warm, fuzzy blanket in my pajamas.
Oh my goodness, that elevator image is such a tender, too-true snapshot of burnout. When your body’s been in go-mode for years, it makes sense that rest feels loud and slippery instead of soothing. I can really relate to that.
And it also makes sense that wanting time off brings up guilt when the culture won’t stop shouting about “productivity” and “sedentary danger.” None of that is a personal flaw—just a rough environment for all of us to heal in.
If being active was tied to your eating disorder for so long, of course stillness feels like losing a piece of yourself. That’s a hard knot to untangle. It's one that took me longer than the food piece... for whatever reason, it had a real grip. I'm sending you so much compassion as you navigate this.
But that little scene of you on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, sounds like a place your body actually exhales. I’m glad you have that!
This is a really insightful and thought-provoking post! I hadn’t considered burnout within the context of body image before, and this makes a tremendous amount of sense. Something that was really shocking to me was how much I started sleeping after I committed to ED recovery in earnest. It’s been about two years, and I still sleep far more than I ever have in my life. I struggled with feeling VERY guilty about this (lazy, unproductive, etc.), but I also recognize that, after decades of depleting and pushing my body to its limits on little fuel and no rest, my body is finally healing. It’s been fascinating to see the positive recovery-related effects since letting myself sleep more!
Oh Catherine, thank you for sharing this. And truly, what you’re describing is so common (and deeply *human*) in recovery. After years of running on fumes, our body finally gets the chance to exhale — and that often looks like lots and lots of sleep.
I’m sure you know this, but the guilt you felt isn’t a personal flaw; it’s the culture that teaches us that productivity equals worth. Your body isn’t being “lazy.” It’s healing. It’s catching up. And I absolutely love that you named the positive shifts you’re seeing as you let yourself rest. That’s such a powerful sign that your system finally feels safe. Truly glad you shared this ❤️
Burnout for me lately feels like I’m in an elevator that doesn’t ever stop on a floor. It’s just hurtling through space with no end goal.
My job is easy and I work from home, so I judge myself for wanting more time off. I also don’t get a lot of PTO, so I can’t always take time off, even when I need a mental health day.
I also am really struggling with rest lately. I set off to rest more at the beginning of the day, but then my thoughts get too loud and I can’t sit still. I also deal with a lot of guilt over being unproductive or lazy because I see so much rhetoric lately about how unhealthy it is to be sedentary. For me I think I’ve struggled with my eating disorder for so long that it’s hard to disentangle being active from my identity. So when I’m less active, it feels like I’m losing a part of myself. I’ve always been very active, but I know that the last 18 years has been filled with overexercise. It’s such a hard behavior to conquer in the current climate and when I live in a community where everyone around me is really active.
When I do allow myself to rest, which I really want to do more often, I love to curl up on my couch with a warm, fuzzy blanket in my pajamas.
Oh my goodness, that elevator image is such a tender, too-true snapshot of burnout. When your body’s been in go-mode for years, it makes sense that rest feels loud and slippery instead of soothing. I can really relate to that.
And it also makes sense that wanting time off brings up guilt when the culture won’t stop shouting about “productivity” and “sedentary danger.” None of that is a personal flaw—just a rough environment for all of us to heal in.
If being active was tied to your eating disorder for so long, of course stillness feels like losing a piece of yourself. That’s a hard knot to untangle. It's one that took me longer than the food piece... for whatever reason, it had a real grip. I'm sending you so much compassion as you navigate this.
But that little scene of you on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, sounds like a place your body actually exhales. I’m glad you have that!
This is a really insightful and thought-provoking post! I hadn’t considered burnout within the context of body image before, and this makes a tremendous amount of sense. Something that was really shocking to me was how much I started sleeping after I committed to ED recovery in earnest. It’s been about two years, and I still sleep far more than I ever have in my life. I struggled with feeling VERY guilty about this (lazy, unproductive, etc.), but I also recognize that, after decades of depleting and pushing my body to its limits on little fuel and no rest, my body is finally healing. It’s been fascinating to see the positive recovery-related effects since letting myself sleep more!
Oh Catherine, thank you for sharing this. And truly, what you’re describing is so common (and deeply *human*) in recovery. After years of running on fumes, our body finally gets the chance to exhale — and that often looks like lots and lots of sleep.
I’m sure you know this, but the guilt you felt isn’t a personal flaw; it’s the culture that teaches us that productivity equals worth. Your body isn’t being “lazy.” It’s healing. It’s catching up. And I absolutely love that you named the positive shifts you’re seeing as you let yourself rest. That’s such a powerful sign that your system finally feels safe. Truly glad you shared this ❤️