Am I Burned Out or Just Lazy?
When rest feels impossible and guilt takes over, it’s easy to confuse burnout with laziness. But what if the problem isn’t effort—it’s capacity?
Every few weeks (days?), I stare at my to-do list and think, What if I just laid down and didn’t get back up? Not in a dramatic way. Just in an I’m so tired and everything feels like too much and if I hear one more notification, I might cry kind of way.
And then, right on cue, the shame voice kicks in.
“You’re not doing enough.”
“You have time—you’re just wasting it.”
“Everyone else manages. Why can’t you?”
It’s always the same pattern: I hit a wall, can’t move through it, and instead of listening to what I need, I start calling myself lazy. Useless. Broken. It’s internalized capitalism with a sprinkle of childhood trauma and a dash of executive dysfunction.
I know this. I know this. And still, I fall for it.
Because burnout and laziness look similar on the outside. But inside? They’re completely different beasts. Laziness is a lack of desire. Burnout is a lack of capacity. And I have the desire—I have plans, ideas, full Pinterest boards of “how I’ll get my life together.” But no fuel.
Here’s what burnout feels like for me:
I forget things constantly, even things I care about.
I avoid emails like they’re cursed scrolls.
I hyperfocus on completely unrelated tasks just to feel capable of something.
I feel overwhelmed by everything but guilty for doing nothing.
I don’t even rest when I have the chance. I scroll. I over-research. I reorganize folders. I find the weirdest possible way to be “productive adjacent” without actually letting myself off the hook.
Here are just a few things I’ve done instead of resting:
Rewritten my entire Notion setup at 1am.
Created a list of all the things I “should” be doing.
Cleared 300 emails but didn’t reply to the 3 that matter.
Cleaned out a drawer just to avoid crying.
Watched 19 TikToks about burnout... while burnt out.
Convinced myself a new planner would fix it (it didn’t).
I think, for a lot of us—especially if you're neurodivergent—there’s this loop of needing rest but not knowing how to rest, then punishing yourself for not “using” your time well, and then spiraling because now you’re behind.
We grow up being praised for pushing through. For being high achievers. For doing more with less. And then one day your brain just says nope. And you call it laziness because it’s easier than facing the truth that you’re exhausted, unsupported, and expected to perform anyway.
So here’s what I’m working on (very slowly, very imperfectly):
Listening to what my body and brain are actually asking for—not what productivity culture says I should be doing.
Letting rest count, even if it doesn’t look like a curated self-care day.
Reframing “doing nothing” as doing something very important—recovering.
Talking to myself like I would talk to a friend. (I would never call her lazy for feeling like this.)
Burnout isn’t a personal failure. It’s your system going, please stop before I shut everything down for you. And sometimes? It does shut everything down.
So, if you're in the cycle right now, you’re not lazy. You’re likely carrying more than your nervous system was built to hold. You don't need another hack. You need care.
And maybe a nap that no one makes you earn.