by Sophia Diep
I used to believe that rest was for people who were lazy or not motivated enough to achieve their goals. Sleep, breaks, even just taking a deep breath—it all felt like wasted time. There was always another assignment, another test, another expectation to meet. And if I was not pushing myself every second of the day, someone else was. Someone else was getting ahead while I was falling behind.
So, I did not stop. I studied seven days a week, filling every free moment with something “productive.” If I was not studying, I was thinking about studying. And if I tried to rest, I felt guilty—like I was throwing away all the work I had put in. It did not matter how exhausted I was. I told myself I could rest when I got into a top university. But as time went on, I started to wonder: if I was doing everything right, why did I feel so empty?
At the time, I thought it was just me. I thought I was weak for feeling burnt out when so many other students seemed to be managing just fine. But the truth is, burnout is not just about working too hard—it is about what happens to your brain when stress becomes a way of life.
How Stress Rewires the Brain
When stress is temporary, the brain knows how to handle it. The prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for decision-making and emotional control—keeps everything in check, helping us focus when we need to and relax when the danger has passed. But when stress does not go away, the balance starts to shift.
Chronic stress strengthens the amygdala, the part of the brain responsible for emotions like fear and anxiety. It makes everything feel urgent, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore. At the same time, the prefrontal cortex weakens, making it harder to think clearly, regulate emotions, or recognize when enough is enough. The more I pushed through exhaustion, the less I could actually feel it—until one day, I could not tell the difference between working hard and completely shutting down.
I convinced myself that my exhaustion was not real, that I was just being lazy, that I needed to push through it. But the science says otherwise. My brain had literally adapted to a constant state of stress, making it harder for me to recognize that I needed rest. And even when I did recognize it, I did not know how to stop.
According to research by Bruce S. McEwen, stress does more than just change how we feel—it physically rewires the brain. The brain adapts to repeated stress by reshaping neural connections, altering the way we process emotions, make decisions, and perceive threats (McEwen, 2017). While these changes help us respond to immediate challenges, they can also become maladaptive over time, leading to increased anxiety, difficulty concentrating, and a heightened stress response. McEwen’s research highlights that chronic stress disrupts the balance between different brain regions, particularly the prefrontal cortex and the amygdala, which can make stress feel inescapable. However, because the brain is plastic—meaning it can adapt and rewire itself—interventions like therapy, mindfulness, and lifestyle changes can help reverse these effects. Recognizing the brain’s role in stress is crucial in learning how to manage it before it takes over.
Why Resting Feels Like Failure
The most frustrating part? I knew I was burnt out. I knew something was wrong. But every time I tried to take a break, a voice in my head told me I was making a mistake.
Somewhere along the way, I had learned that my worth was tied to my productivity. That if I was not working, I was not doing enough. That if I was not doing enough, I was not enough.
So when I was not studying, I did not know who I was. I did not know what to do with myself. I would sit there, trying to relax, and feel my heart racing because somewhere in the world, someone else was still working. And if they were working, and I was resting, then I was falling behind.
Looking back, I realize that my brain had been trained to associate rest with failure. And when your own brain is telling you that stopping is dangerous, how are you supposed to slow down?
What Helped Me See Things Differently
The first time I let myself rest without guilt, it was not because I wanted to. It was because I had no choice. I had pushed myself to the point where my body physically could not keep going. And as much as I hated it, I started to notice something: when I allowed myself to slow down, the world did not fall apart. My grades did not instantly drop. My future did not disappear.
It took time, but I started to understand that exhaustion was not a badge of honor—it was my brain’s way of begging me to stop. And rest was not something I had to earn. It was something I needed.
I am still learning how to believe that. Some days, the guilt creeps back in, and I feel the urge to fill every spare moment with something “useful.” But I remind myself that my brain is not a machine. That I am not a machine. And that maybe—just maybe—slowing down is not the same as giving up.
Final Thoughts
If you have ever felt like resting is impossible, like you are trapped in a cycle of burnout that you do not know how to escape, you are not alone. I know what it feels like to think that stopping means falling behind, to believe that success comes at the cost of your own well-being. But the truth is, burnout does not make you stronger. It just makes you numb.
And if I have learned anything, it is that no achievement is worth losing yourself in the process.
Sources
McEwen, Bruce S. “Neurobiological and Systemic Effects of Chronic Stress.” Chronic Stress (Thousand Oaks, Calif.), vol. 1 (2017): 2470547017692328. doi:10.1177/2470547017692328.
