16. Rest Looks Lazy (It’s Not)
You know that thing everyone says about self-care and rest? Bubble baths, walks and yoga?
Yeah, that's not what deep AuDHD rest actually looks like.
Real AuDHD rest—the kind that pulls you back from burnout—might look like you're doing nothing. Or worse, like you're being lazy. Lying on the couch for days. Playing video games for hours. Binge-watching the same comfort show you've seen three times already.
And here's the thing: that's not laziness. That's medicine.
In This Episode:
Laziness doesn't actually exist—there's always a reason behind what looks like "not doing enough"
AuDHD rest looks different depending on whether you're maintaining or recovering from burnout
What looks "lazy" to others might be the exact regulation your nervous system needs
Cozy games and comfort shows aren't avoidance—they're providing the right level of stimulation for recovery
Rest isn't a reward for productivity—sometimes you need to rest first and table everything else
Connect With Me:
THE LAZINESS MYTH
Devon Price's book Laziness Doesn't Exist breaks down something revolutionary: that thing we call laziness isn't actually a thing.
Every time someone appears "lazy," there's actually a reason:
They're silently struggling (neurodivergent folks, invisible disabilities)
It's just not a priority to them—different values, not wrong values
They're doing invisible work nobody recognizes
The judgment of "lazy" always comes from our own perspective. We don't know what's going on with that person.
Price uses people who are homeless as an example—society says "get a job" and labels them lazy. But it's actually a LOT of work to be homeless. Finding a place to sleep each night, figuring out water access, the mental load of constant uncertainty.
From vanlife, I've experienced a small sliver of this. Things those of us with housing take for granted—like knowing where you're sleeping—take up massive bandwidth when you're figuring it out daily.
When you spend chunks of each day on basic survival logistics, and you're AuDHD? That's exhausting.
WHAT REST ISN'T
Rest is not a reward for productivity. Not "once I do xyz, THEN I get to rest."
It’s easy to fall into that trap. Sometimes it's helpful—let me push through these tasks with the reward of lying on the couch afterwards. That allure helps me rally.
But when we truly need rest—when we're recovering from burnout, in deep overwhelm, or pulling back from the edge—we need to let go of that bargain.
At that point, rest isn't a choice. It's the only way to break the cycle.
That's where the laziness myth becomes dangerous. Because sometimes what looks like laziness to others isn't a choice at all.
REST FOR MAINTENANCE VS. RECOVERY
Here's where things get nuanced.
Regular rest (weekends, recharging between activities): This is where having giant open time and forcing yourself to not do anything can be painful for AuDHD brains. We need some stimulation, maybe a special interest, maybe one planned activity to feel grounded.
Recovery rest (burnout, tipping point, major overwhelm): This IS about lying down and not doing much of anything. Targeted rest. Stopping everything.
Do you see the distinction?
When you've hit a wall or you're in neurodivergent burn out, rest means:
Stopping everything and being mindless on the couch
Alternating between napping and binge-watching comfort shows (the ones you've seen before, where you know all the characters, that feel like a warm hug)
Playing cozy video games
Not taking your ADHD meds so your brain can actually be sluggish
Tabling all commitments, even "good for you" ones
Your body needs what it needs. Not what your partner's body needs. Not what society says productive rest should look like.
WHEN REST LOOKS LAZY (BUT ISN'T)
My partner and I are both neurodivergent, but our rest needs look completely opposite.
He's more external, hyperactive ADHD—needs to be out doing things to recharge. His self-care looks productive and active.
I have chronic conditions requiring more rest. My ADHD busyness is internal, in my head. Taking care of myself looks lazy.
Even knowing all the theory, it can be hard to stop measuring myself against him. I've spent my life looking at others to see what's acceptable—my mom who also never sat still, society's productivity standards.
This is how internalized ableism gets built.
The hardest part isn't even other people—it's often our own guilt and shame. If people see us lying down day after day, they'll think we’re not contributing, entitled, lazy. And that feels like the worst thing.
If I lived alone where no one saw me rest, I could feel more peace following my own pace. But working from home with my partner and my retired mom living with us—I'm always unconsciously comparing myself to their level of activity.
Story: Dragged-Out Recovery
When I had that respiratory infection that dragged on for over a month, I thought I was resting SO much. To my husband's eyes, my rest level was extreme.
But then I input what I was doing into AI to figure out why I wasn't getting better. AI laid it down for me: "You haven't really been resting. You need full days with nothing planned, no 'just this one task.'"
What seemed like tons of rest compared to my partner was actually not adequate for what I needed.
Honoring your spoons isn't weakness—it's wisdom.
COZY VIDEO GAMES AS REGULATION
As a kid, I played video games—regular Nintendo, then Super Nintendo, then Gameboy at Disneyland (probably not allowed at the table, but that portable bit of peace stuck with me).
Little did I know those were actually regulating me. Reading fantasy books in the car on family road trips was another regulation tool, just with less stigma.
Then I became an adult and adopted the stance that video games are lazy. Who has time for that?
So it felt wild and taboo when an AuDHD spoonie friend suggested I take up cozy games during burnout recovery. Like being in a back alley getting handed some secret counter-culture medicine.
I had been stuck in my head, planning things, struggling to turn off my brain. She suggested cozy games since they'd really helped her—shut off the brain but still have stimulation.
Eventually I got a handheld Nintendo Switch with ergonomic grips so I could lie down and play, resting my body while stimulating my brain.
Reframe: Games aren't avoidance or childish—they're regulation.
FINDING THE RIGHT LEVEL OF STIMULATION
The key is matching stimulation to your actual state.
For recovery rest when you've hit a wall:
Comfort shows work because they have:
Lightness to them
A "Scooby Gang" core group that feels like family
Familiar, cozy vibes that don't activate your nervous system
The right level of stimulation—somewhat engaging but safe
My rotation: The Mindy Project, Jane the Virgin, The Good Place, Once Upon a Time, The Librarians. Enough time passes between rewatches that I've forgotten details, so it's somewhat stimulating but still feels familiar.
For cozy games:
They bring stimulation without hitting your nervous system
Puzzles provide achievable challenges (not too easy, not activating)
Adorable aesthetics feel soothing
Clear progression shows you're "doing something" without pressure
It helps if the game you choose is popular enough to look up answers online when stumped. That's not cheating – it’s keeping it cozy and restorative.
When I played The Sims in college, using cheat codes for unlimited money let me buy the big house and furnish it with cool furniture – which was my favorite part. Why would I think of that as wrong?
That goes back to the laziness myth. Why hold yourself back from what would make you feel better?
COZY GAMES REFERENCE GUIDE
Different games work for different recovery needs. Here's when to reach for each:
When you can barely function and need to zone out:
Dorf Romantik - No storyline, just placing blocks to create countryside scenes. Pretty, no wrong answers, clear patterns, whatever pace you want.
When you need moderate stimulation to stay engaged:
Stardew Valley - Right level of complexity. Look up hints online to avoid getting stuck and frustrated.
Moonstone Island - Complex enough stimulation, structured but you choose your focus. Lots of EF accommodations: clear quest log, sprinklers, portable tent, nothing to remember.
Wylde Flowers - Witchy, inclusive, story-driven, cozy community. (Currently replaying this one)
More witchy options:
Spirit Farer - Gentle, atmospheric (also has some grief vibes so take care of yourself)
Wytchwood - Crafting and questing with a witchy vibe
When you need more stimulation to stay horizontal:
Botany Manor - Gentle puzzle game, moody and atmospheric. Move through and interact with the world while solving puzzles.
The Last Campfire - Atmospheric world-building with gentle puzzles to progress.
The key: Pick based on your current energy and stimulation needs, not what you "should" be able to handle.
THE KEY INSIGHT
Rest that looks lazy to people who've never been truly exhausted isn't laziness at all—it's survival.
Use the cheat code. Look up the puzzle answer. Lie down even when others can see you.
Your recovery isn't for them to understand. It's for your nervous system to regulate, your body to heal, your brain to stop running on empty.
What looks like doing nothing is actually doing the hardest work of all: breaking the cycle before it breaks you.