What happens when we start measuring our worth by how much we can produce? This article explores the relationship between burnout, ableism, chronic illness and productivity culture, and what it can mean to unlearn the idea that rest is something we have to earn.
If audio is more accessible to you than reading articles then I have a podcast of me chatting about this same topic that you can listen to here.
Dominant culture is obsessed with productivity. The typical full-time working week is designed around the assumption that everyone can work full-time hours consistently, which makes it inaccessible to those whose capacity fluctuates. Within this constant prioritisation of productivity, is an in-built ideology that rest is a reward for being productive, not an innate human need.
Rest is used as the carrot at the end of a stick, the reward after the activity.
Those of us who are chronically ill, disabled, and/or neurodivergent, do not fit this narrow mould. Our existence challenges productivity focused culture. Our bodies and brains need more rest to survive, and we have to do the difficult work of dismantling productivity focused cultural conditioning. Often, we must rest before, and after an activity, or even during to manage it at all. It can be incredibly challenging to unpick internalised ableism that makes us feel somehow “less than” for not being able to do more.
Within the dominant productivity focused culture, those of us who can’t do more, are told we need “better discipline”, to “try harder” or to “stop being lazy.” But bodies don’t work like that.
For me, this is something I’m constantly having to unpick. As someone who is chronically ill and neurodivergent, my capacity fluctuates enormously. There are things I can sometimes do, but cannot reliably sustain. And when I really confront how deeply I’ve internalised the idea that if I can’t do as much as someone else, something must be morally wrong with me, as opposed to lacking the physical capacity.
I have to interrogate the cultural messages I’ve absorbed about productivity, discipline and what makes someone “good” or worthy.
Lazy isn’t a neutral word. When we call someone lazy, we aren’t simply describing what they’re doing; we’re assigning a moral judgement to their level of productivity. Lazy implies that you could do it, but you’re choosing not to. That you haven’t tried hard enough, lack discipline, or simply don’t care enough. This becomes particularly harmful when someone’s limitations are invisible. It might look like someone is doing nothing, without seeing the pain, fatigue, sensory overload, neurological exhaustion or recovery time happening beneath the surface.
I’ve had moments where I’ve questioned my own worth because I couldn’t do what I thought I should be able to do. It’s something I’m still learning to notice, reframe and adjust. Because there’s a huge difference between asking “Why can’t my body do this?” and asking “Why am I so useless?”
The first is curiosity about our capacity. The second is a moral judgement about our worth. The second question is also often the voice of internalised ableism: You’re not trying hard enough. Other people manage. You did it before. You’re wasting your potential.
Ableism isn’t always what someone says directly to us. It’s also the messages we’ve absorbed over time that eventually mean we don’t need anyone else to judge us, because there is already a loud voice inside doing it. It’s not at all our fault to have internalised ableism, this voice and its messages gets fed by cultural conditioning.
Our culture often treats the able-bodied, neurotypical person who can work full-time, earn, achieve, manage family, health and social commitments as the ideal.
When we measure people’s worth by how much they can work, earn, achieve or contribute, we create a hierarchy of bodies where the more productive body is seen as the “better” body. This helps explain where internalised messages like “you’re lazy” come from. It is by no means an objective truth, it comes directly from a system that has decided what productivity should look like. What’s more, it harshly judges those of us who fall outside that model as “not good enough”.
Rest is not a reward, it’s fundamental to our existence.
We all need rest. But the way our culture and society is currently set up, rest can be a privilege. Something we have to afford. If we are not financially secure, or physically well, or don’t have access to stable housing, there is a very real lack of access to rest.
We don't need to earn rest at the point of exhaustion, we are all innately worthy of rest. However those with more privilege do have more access to rest, more opportunity to rest. It’s very difficult to put the To-Do-List down when your survival depends on getting through it.
So there’s a huge systemic piece to the whole conversation about rest, and I want to highlight this. It isn’t easy or accessible for every person to integrate rest into the day-to-day. Burnout is political. And there can be a lot of judgement that pushes people to do more.
In particular, the chronic illness community faces an enormous amount of judgement on rest, because our bodies often physically demand more of it. I’ve experienced this myself: having my worth feel tied to what I can or can’t do.
Disability is something that any of us can experience at any point in our lives.
Examining our own internalised ableism is important, as is re-imagining our culture and society to be more inclusive. It’s something we all have a stake in challenging.
For a long time, I pushed myself beyond my capacity. When I was in my teenage years into my early 20s, I was so busy. I would not stop.
The messages I’d received about my worth being tied up into how much I could do, meant that when my capacity shifted, and I could do so much less, I felt like a burden.
I’m still learning to recognise the voice that calls me lazy when in reality, my body is exhausted, and needs rest. I have an embodied lived experience of the work I support my clients to do when it comes to recognising their own capacity, knowing when to slow down, how to pace more steadily and say no when needed.
Capacity changes throughout our lives through illness, disability, ageing, caring responsibilities, finances and so many other circumstances.
I’ve had to ask myself:
If I couldn’t work, what would make me valuable?
If I couldn’t achieve, what would make me worthy?
If I spent an entire day doing nothing, would I still consider myself worthwhile?
Many of us have been taught that productivity equals contribution, contribution equals worth, and worth equals deservingness. Perhaps the entire equation needs dismantling.
Our bodies are not the problem if they don't meet the demands of productivity culture.
The problem is a culture that has decided a person's value should be measured by their capacity to produce, not by any of the other wonderful parts that make them human.
We don't owe the world constant productivity to justify our existence. Needing more rest doesn't make me, or you, less ambitious, less capable or less worthy. It just makes us human. Burnout shouldn’t be the cost of existing.
Trauma-Informed Online Somatic Therapy Can Support Those with Burnout, Trauma, Chronic Illness and/or Neurodivergence
If you’re dealing with chronic illness, neurodivergence, trauma recovery or fluctuating capacity then online Somatic Therapy can be a great resource. It’s a body-based approach that can be especially helpful if you’ve ever felt stuck in traditional talking therapy (read my blog here ‘Somatic Therapy & Talk Therapy: What’s the Difference?’ for more on that topic!)
Online sessions are designed to be accessible, flexible, and effective, allowing you to receive support from the comfort of your own home.
Working online can be especially helpful for those navigating chronic illness, burnout, or neurodivergence. With pacing needs, leaving the house can cost a lot of extra spoons/ pace points / capacity, so I offer online therapy to help you conserve time and energy.
Want to learn more?
Click here to learn more about my neurodiversity-affirming, trauma-informed somatic therapy.
Book a free call with me now to get to know me and how I could support you to reconnect with your body, build resilience, and begin recovering from burnout.
