Unlearning toxic productivity: rest isn’t a reward, it’s a right

You know the feeling. You’re sitting on your bed at home, a cup of tea cooling beside you, Netflix open, and a creeping sense of unease building in your chest. You’ve technically got nothing urgent to do, but you can’t shake the guilt. Maybe you should be updating your CV. Or getting ahead on that reading. Or starting a new side hustle. Or doing anything that looks like ‘progress’.

Welcome to the exhausting cycle of toxic productivity: the compulsion to always be ‘on,’ even when you’re running on empty.

We’ve talked plenty about burnout – the crash at the end of the road. But what if we looked earlier, at the part where you still think you’re fine, where your tiredness is low-grade and persistent, like a background hum? What if we stopped glorifying the hustle just before it becomes harmful?

In an environment like that, doing ‘nothing’ becomes radical. Taking a day off, without using it to network, create, or build something, feels almost shameful. You might start believing that your worth is proportional to your output

The Prestige Problem
I first noticed this unspoken pressure at university. Warwick is full of ambition, filled with clever, capable students all seemingly juggling internships, societies, side gigs, and somehow still managing to hit the gym and go out on Wednesdays. At times, it felt like the university application process had never really ended; everyone is still auditioning, still trying to impress an invisible admissions panel with how much they could stretch themselves.

In an environment like that, doing ‘nothing’ becomes radical. Taking a day off, without using it to network, create, or build something, feels almost shameful. You might start believing that your worth is proportional to your output.

When You Go Home and Can Finally Sleep
One of the strangest and most telling signs that something isn’t quite right is what happens when you go home.

A lot of students report sleeping a lot more when they’re back with their families: 10, 12 hours a night, sometimes napping during the day too. It’s not laziness; it’s the body finally getting a chance to switch off after weeks or months of running in survival mode. Late nights, early mornings, caffeine-fuelled study sessions – it all catches up eventually.

But here’s the twist: even as you’re finally getting the rest you desperately need, the guilt doesn’t disappear. It grows. You wake up at noon and feel like you’re being silently judged for it. You overhear a parent on the phone saying, “She’s just sleeping all day,” and you feel the need to explain: it’s not because I’m lazy, it’s because I’ve been exhausted for months.

This, too, is toxic productivity. It’s convinced us that exhaustion is weakness, and that rest needs to be justified – even to the people who love us most.

It’s a vicious loop: you push yourself too far, become depleted, finally rest, and then feel ashamed for doing so. So, you overcompensate, push even harder, and the cycle repeats

What Toxic Productivity Does to Your Health
The impact goes beyond sleep. Constant overextension messes with your entire system:

• Sleep disruption: Poor sleep quality at university is common, not just because of parties or workload, but because the brain has been trained not to relax. Even when you’re in bed, the mind races, planning the next move.
• Increased anxiety: Feeling guilty for resting adds a layer of anxiety to what should be a restorative process. It’s no wonder so many students find it hard to enjoy downtime – it doesn’t feel earned.
• Mood swings and fatigue: When you’re living off adrenaline and deadlines, your mood becomes reactive and fragile. Things feel heavier than they are. You’re tired even when you’re not doing much, the emotional weight is that strong.
• Disconnection from your body: You stop recognising signs of fatigue or hunger. You ignore headaches, stiff shoulders, racing thoughts, because tuning into your body takes time, and time feels like a luxury you don’t have.

It’s a vicious loop: you push yourself too far, become depleted, finally rest, and then feel ashamed for doing so. So, you overcompensate, push even harder, and the cycle repeats.

Learning to Rest (Properly)
Unlearning toxic productivity isn’t easy, especially when the culture around you reinforces it. But it’s necessary.

1. Redefine what ‘productive’ means.
   Productivity isn’t just about output. Taking care of yourself: sleeping in, journaling, walking without a podcast – they are all valuable too. If your body and mind are better off after an activity, it’s probably productive in the truest sense.
2. Normalise ‘wasted’ time.
   Not every moment needs to be maximised. Rest is not wasted. You are not a machine, and your worth isn’t measured in tasks completed.
3. Curate your environment.
   Mute that one overachieving seminar friend on Instagram. Stop comparing your behind-the-scenes to someone else’s highlight reel. Find people who value balance and talk to them. You’re not alone in feeling this way, even if no one’s saying it out loud.
4. Make space for rest at home – and talk about it.
   Sometimes our families just don’t understand what university life is like now. Explaining that you’re not just tired but deeply fatigued can help. You don’t owe them an apology for sleeping. But giving them context may reduce the guilt spiral.
5. Treat rest as non-negotiable.
   You shouldn’t have to ‘earn’ your rest. You rest because you need to, not because you finished your to-do list. Rest isn’t the reward. It’s the prerequisite.

The Takeaway
There will always be more you could be doing. That’s the trap. But you weren’t put on this earth to optimise every moment. Sometimes the most radical, healing thing you can do is… nothing.

Try this: breathe, smile, and don’t reach for your laptop

The world doesn’t need more burnt-out brilliance. It needs people who are whole and who know that rest is not the opposite of success. It’s what makes it sustainable.

So, the next time you’re home, watching the kettle boil or lying on the sofa, try this: breathe, smile, and don’t reach for your laptop.

You’re doing enough.