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Chronically Ill or Chronically Avoiding?

By Antonia at Unremarkable Me

Let me tell you something that might sound a bit dramatic—but chronic illness is dramatic, so we’re rolling with it: sometimes, I genuinely can’t tell if I’m taking care of myself… or just artfully dodging my own potential.

And before anyone rushes in with a gentle, “You deserve to rest!”—yes, I know. I believe it. I live it. I even write about it unapologetically, like I’ve mastered it. But belief and behaviour are not always on speaking terms. Because here’s the uncomfortable truth I keep bumping into it like a badly placed walking frame: rest and procrastination look eerily similar from the outside—and sometimes from the inside, too.

One is sacred. The other? Sneaky. One heals. The other haunts. And when you're chronically ill, dancing between the two becomes its own exhausting routine.

I've spent years preaching the gospel of unapologetic rest. But I’ve also spent years not finishing things I care about—things like Unremarkable Me—because somewhere deep down, I was scared. Scared of being seen. Scared of being wrong. Scared of trying and watching it not work out. Again.

So yeah. Sometimes what looks like recovery is actually just really well-dressed avoidance.

And the real kicker? That doesn't make me weak. It makes me human—a human with a body that takes detours and a brain that catastrophises like it’s training for the Olympics.

Let’s talk about that.


Rest vs. Procrastination: The Blurry Line We Don’t Talk About

Living with a chronically ill body means rest isn’t a luxury—it’s non-negotiable. But our brains weren’t exactly designed to accept that without protest. We’re conditioned to equate worth with output, identity with achievement, and rest with laziness. So even when we know we need to stop, we often end up guilt-tripping ourselves into second-guessing that need.

“Am I genuinely unwell today?”“Or am I just avoiding something I'm scared to start?”

Here’s the thing: it can be both.

Five Signs It Might Be Procrastination (and Not Just Rest)

  1. You’re not physically wrecked—just emotionally avoidant.Your body could handle a little effort, but your brain is holding up a neon sign that says, “NOPE.”

  2. You’re doing everything but the thing.You’ve just colour-coded your sock drawer, but that email you’ve been dreading? Still unsent.

  3. Thinking about the task makes your stomach lurch. Not because it’s physically taxing—but because it matters. And that’s what makes it terrifying.

  4. Rest doesn’t feel restorative—it feels heavy.You’re not recharging. You’re hiding. And deep down, you know it.

  5. It’s tied to something you care about. If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t be this scared to fail. That fear? It’s often disguised as fatigue.


Fear, Fatigue, and the Curse of the Great Idea

Let’s be blunt: procrastination is often fear in disguise.

Fear of failing.Fear of succeeding and not being able to keep up.Fear that people will see the cracks.Fear that you’ll see them.

And when you’re chronically ill, those fears multiply. Because if your body has already let you down before, it’s hard to trust that it won’t do it again—especially right when you’ve found a flicker of momentum.

That’s exactly what happened with Unremarkable Me. It sat in my head for years. Not because I didn’t believe in it—but because I did. And that made it vulnerable. If I never launched it, it could never flop.

But guess what? Hiding didn’t protect me from disappointment. It just delayed the joy.


So How Do We Find Balance?

No tidy answers. But a few truths that have helped me:

Ask Better Questions:

  • “Is this rest helping me heal—or helping me hide?”

  • “Would I feel even 5% better if I made one tiny step?”

  • “What am I avoiding—and why does it scare me?”

Make Rest Intentional:

Book it in. Name it. Protect it.If you treat rest like a plan, it won’t feel like a failure.

Build Micro-Momentum:

If the whole task feels too big, shrink it until it fits in your palm. One sentence. One step. One whispered, “I’m doing my best.”

Name the Fear:

Say it out loud. Write it down. DM it to someone you trust.“I’m scared it won’t be good enough.”“I’m scared I’m not who I thought I was.”

Spoiler: You probably are. You’re just tired.


Final Thoughts

If procrastination had a face, I’d meet it in a car park, call it a coward, and ask it what it’s really so afraid of. Because deep down, I know the answer. It’s not laziness. It’s not weakness. It’s fear wrapped in fatigue, cloaked in self-doubt, and fed by a lifetime of being told we have to earn our worth through output.

But here’s what I’ve learned—slowly, stubbornly, and with a fair amount of swearing:

You don’t owe the world productivity to be valid. You don’t need to always achieve to be enough. And you sure as hell don’t need to apologise for resting—especially when resting is what keeps you alive.

Still, I get it. That line between “I need to stop” and “I’m scared to start” is confusing as hell. It moves. It morphs. It gaslights you in your own voice. But every time you show up—whether it’s with a whisper, a draft, or a fully-fledged fight—you reclaim a little piece of power.

So rest when you need to. Write when you’re ready. And when fear shows up again? (Because it will.)

Smile sweetly, stretch your joints, and say:

"not today satan"


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