You’re Not Lazy. You’re Just Exhausted

For years, I felt overwhelmed and thought I was lazy. But what I really needed was permission to rest without guilt.

I’m standing next to a large lake. Photo taken by the author’s girlfriend and used with permission.

I didn’t come to Vienna looking for clarity. But somehow, I think I’ve found it sitting by the lake, watching families throw breadcrumbs to the ducks. Nearby, a man in a loose jacket paces the edge of the pond like he’s got all the time in the world, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

I’m only here on vacation. Told myself I needed a change of scenery. But now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do. I don’t have any calendar reminders. No meetings stacked back to back. Just space. And for the first time since goodness knows when, I don’t know how to fill it.

The days move slower here in Austria. But I still catch myself rushing, eating too quickly, and checking my phone for no reason. It’s like my body hasn’t caught up to the fact that I’m allowed to stop. That I don’t owe anyone anything right now. Not an email. Not a deliverable. Not even a response. So I stay put, not because I’m waiting for something, but because, for once, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

When I was 21, I was a journalist for a music magazine. Did countless interviews with artists. Had an email inbox that never stopped overflowing. Some…