Why Rest Feels So Uncomfortable (Especially If You're Anxious or Neurodivergent)

We’re often told that rest is good for us. That slowing down is essential.But if you’ve ever tried to actually rest—and ended up feeling more unsettled than calm—you’re not alone.

In therapy, I often hear versions of the same thing:“I finally got a moment to myself… and I couldn’t relax.”“I sat down and felt guilty, like I should be doing something.”

A person stands with closed eyes shielded by their sleeves, basking in dappled sunlight amidst a tranquil setting.

Rest sounds simple. But for many people, especially those who are anxious, neurodivergent, or have lived through chronic stress, it can feel anything but.

Why rest doesn’t always feel restful

Rest asks us to pause. To stop solving, doing, fixing, proving. And for some of us, that pause feels like falling into a void.

When your nervous system is wired for alertness, or when your brain is used to running on fast-forward, stopping can feel unsafe. Rest can bring up everything you’ve been avoiding—thoughts, feelings, discomfort.

It’s not that you’re bad at resting. It’s that your body might not know it’s safe yet.

You’re not lazy—you’re carrying more than people realise

If you live with anxiety, ADHD, or have experienced trauma, you might have internalised messages like:

• “You can rest when the work’s done.”

• “If you’re not productive, you’re falling behind.”

• “You’re too sensitive. Keep going.”

A blurred motion photo of a woman with long dark hair and a white off-the-shoulder top, conveying a sense of movement or introspection against a plain background.

These beliefs can get tangled with shame, making rest feel like something you have to earn… instead of something you deserve.

But here’s the truth:Rest isn’t a reward. It’s a need.

So how do we begin to make rest feel safer?

Start with gentleness. Not by trying to rest perfectly—but by noticing how your body responds when you even think about slowing down.

• Can you give yourself permission to just pause—even for a minute?

• Would it help to rest with structure (e.g. a playlist, a blanket, or a simple routine)?

• Can you remind yourself: “This isn’t lazy. This is care.”

Rest might always feel a bit uncomfortable at first. But discomfort doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It might just mean you’re unlearning years of pressure.

A woman relaxes in bed, looking serene and content, wrapped in a cozy white bathrobe.

You’re allowed to rest—even when things aren’t finished. Even when it feels awkward. Even when you haven’t “earned” it.

You’re a human being—not a machine. And your nervous system deserves a break, too.

💬 If this reflection resonates…

You don’t have to navigate this alone. Whether you’re just beginning to notice how rest feels in your body, or you’ve been carrying these patterns for a long time—support is available.

As a therapist, I offer a warm, neurodivergent-friendly space where your experiences are met with compassion, not judgment. There’s no need to explain everything perfectly or have it all figured out. We can meet you exactly where you are.

📩 If you're in the UK and looking for online or Canterbury-based counselling, you're warmly invited to get in touch. You deserve support that helps you feel safe not just to understand your pain, but to gently feel it—and move toward healing at your own pace.

You might also find this post helpful:👉 Is It Time to Reframe ADHD in Therapy?It explores how therapy can honour neurodivergence, rather than trying to fix it.