During the holiday break, I read something online along the lines of, “If you feel like you need a break, take a break — don’t do anything at all, and let yourself actually relax without any kind of expectation on you whatsoever — and then take even more of a break, because if you feel like you need a break, chances are you need more of one than you believe.” It was the kind of self-help talk that made my head buzz with recognition, so I decided to heed the advice and proceeded, for the vast majority of 12 days to do as little as possible.
And that’s when I discovered that all of my workaholic tendencies have apparently come back in force.
Back in the day, I managed to hide all the worst workaholic feelings I had because I was a freelancer, and that comes with the Freelancer Hustle, so the impulse to always be working and always be productive could be disguised as, “If I stop for even a minute, then I’m losing income that I can’t afford to give up.” That particular lie — to myself, and others around me — allowed me to work myself into a hole with a defense of it being necessary and, in the grander scheme, maybe even good for me if I could get to a point where I was successful enough that I could relax.
That never happened, of course, but the joys of therapy and a significant change in life circumstances made me realize that I was working too hard and needed to pull back about six or so years ago, and I actually managed to do so for some time with no small amount of smugness: look at me, taking care of myself! And then, this recent break happened and the antsy-ness I felt while purposefully not doing anything let me know that maybe it’s not a habit I’ve entirely broken, after all…
I resisted the urge for pretty much the entire break, however — sometimes, some things really did need to be done — and I’m probably better for the experience, as much as I kind of hate to admit it. The trick for the next few months is working out how to force myself to relax on a regular basis, and not find reasons to work more than necessary in the hopes that I’m earning back time that future me will never claim.