A letter to the students who are tired of being tired—and ready to reclaim what restoration actually means

Dear exhausted student,

I see you there at 2 AM, scrolling TikTok in bed, telling yourself you're "winding down." I see you binge-watching Netflix for six hours on Sunday, then wondering why Monday feels impossible. I see you lying to yourself about the rest, like I did for years.

Let me tell you what no one else will: > You've been taught to rest wrong.

Not your fault. The same system that taught you to optimize your GPA, pack your schedule, and measure your worth in achievements also handed you a broken definition of recovery. They told you rest was the absence of productivity. They taught you that downtime meant screen time. They convinced you that if you weren't actively working, you must be resting.

They were wrong about that, too.

The Lie You've Been Living

Here's what happened to one of my students—and maybe it sounds familiar:

She'd spend entire weekends "relaxing." Netflix marathons. Social media deep-dives. Lying in bed with her phone for hours. She called it rest because she wasn't studying, wasn't working, wasn't being "productive."

But Monday would come, and she'd feel more drained than before. More anxious. More scattered. Like she'd spent the weekend in some weird mental fog that left her emptier than when she started.

But here's the trap she fell into that's even more insidious—especially if you're a high achiever:

She thought consuming "educational content" counted as rest.

She'd listen to productivity podcasts while walking. Read self-development books during "downtime." Watch documentaries instead of mindless TV, telling herself this was better because she was "still learning something."

She felt superior to her roommates, mindlessly scrolling social media. At least her consumption was valuable, right?

Wrong.

She kept thinking: Why am I still so tired? I'm not even watching trash.

The uncomfortable truth she eventually discovered? > I hadn't rested at all. I'd just switched from one type of input to another—even if it felt more "worthy."

Your brain doesn't distinguish between stress from cramming for exams and stress from processing endless streams of information—whether it's TikTok videos or TED talks. It's all input. It's all cognitive demand. It's all the opposite of restoration.

The high-achieving brain is especially vulnerable to this trap because we've been conditioned to believe that learning equals productivity, and productivity equals worth.

What Real Rest Actually Feels Like

Let me tell you about one student's breakthrough moment:

She was burned out during her junior year, barely functioning despite doing "nothing" all weekend. Actually, that's not quite true—she was doing plenty. She was listening to podcasts while walking, watching educational YouTube during meals, and reading articles "for fun" that were really just productivity advice in disguise.

She thought she was being smart. Optimizing even her downtime. Making every moment count.

But she was exhausted. Constantly. Even after weekends filled with "enriching" content.

One day, her phone died during a walk across campus. There was no backup charger, no podcasts, no background noise—just her, walking in complete silence for the first time in months.

She told me later, "I was annoyed at first. This felt like wasted time. My brain immediately started planning what I could be learning instead."

But after twenty minutes of just... being there... something shifted. Her breathing deepened. Her shoulders relaxed. For the first time in months, her mind stopped processing, analyzing, optimizing. It just... was.

She felt like herself again. Not the productive version of herself. Not the learning-obsessed version. Just... her.

That's what real rest does. It doesn't add more information to your brain. It gives your brain permission to stop processing altogether.

This was a revelation for someone who'd been convinced that every moment needed to serve her advancement somehow.

The High-Achiever's Hidden Trap

If you're reading this and thinking "but I don't watch mindless TV—I only consume quality content," let me stop you right there. I've seen this pattern countless times.

I've worked with students who listen to business podcasts during every walk. Who read leadership books during "relaxation time." Who watch TED talks instead of sitcoms and feel morally superior about it.

They convince themselves this is rest because it isn't homework. It feels productive but not pressured. Educational but not stressful.

This is perhaps the most dangerous rest myth for high achievers: the belief that consuming "valuable" content is somehow restorative.

Here's what these students learn the hard way: Your brain doesn't care if the input is a mindless TikTok or a profound TED talk. Input is input. Processing is processing. And when you're already cognitively depleted, more processing—even of "good" content—accelerates burnout.

I've watched brilliant students fall into this trap repeatedly. They burn out faster than the students binge-watching reality TV because they never give their minds permission to truly switch off. They think optimization applies to rest, too.

It doesn't.

The irony? The more these students try to optimize their downtime, the less effective their actual work becomes. They sit down to write papers and find their brains sluggish, overwhelmed, and resistant. They've filled their minds so full of information that there's no space left for original thinking.

Real rest creates space. Fake rest—even the "educational" kind—just fills that space with more stuff.

The Problem with Following the Script

Here's what this student realized: College trains you to follow scripts. Study guides for exams. Syllabi for courses. Step-by-step instructions for everything. So when it comes to rest, you default to scripts too—either the cultural script of consuming entertainment or the high-achiever script of consuming "valuable" content.

But the rest isn't standardized. It can't be. > What restores you is as individual as your fingerprint.

That realization changed everything for her. She stopped asking "What should I do to relax?" and started asking "What makes me feel more like myself—not more informed, not more entertained, but more fundamentally restored?"

The answers surprised her:

Walking alone (not with podcasts, not with music—just walking) Drawing badly (terrible sketches with no pressure to be good) Sitting in her car in complete silence (five minutes of nothing) Calling her grandmother (real conversation, not small talk) Making breakfast slowly (paying attention to each step)

Notice what's missing? Screens. Consumption. Passive entertainment. Even "educational" content.

Your Permission Slip to Experiment

Here's what I want you to understand: > You have permission to rest differently than everyone around you.

Your roommate might recharge by being social. You might need solitude. Your friends might love group workouts. You might need gentle stretching alone in your room. Your classmates might binge-watch shows. You might need to read fiction, sit in nature, take baths, journal, or play music.

Stop trying to rest the way other people rest. Start figuring out what actually works for you.

The Question That Changes Everything

Instead of asking "Am I resting?" try this:

"Is this helping me come back to life?"

Does it give you back some clarity? Some presence? Some sense of yourself? Do you feel more capable of showing up for what matters after doing it?

If the answer is no, it's not rest. It's just a distraction dressed up as recovery.

And distraction will never give you back the energy you need for the things that actually matter to you.

Why This Matters for Your Performance

Here's the thing no one tells you: > The quality of your rest directly impacts the quality of your work.

When you rest in ways that actually restore you, several things happen:

• Your focus sharpens
• Your creativity returns
• Your resilience increases
• Your anxiety decreases
• Your sense of purpose clarifies

You don't just feel better. You perform better. Not because you're pushing harder, but because you're operating from a place of genuine energy rather than depleted willpower.

Breaking Free from the Default

The hardest part isn't figuring out what restores you. It's giving yourself permission to do it, especially when it looks different from what everyone else is doing.

Your friends are scrolling? You're taking a walk. Your roommates are watching TV? You're journaling. Everyone's at a party? You're taking a bath and going to bed early.

This isn't antisocial. It's self-aware.

Your Rest Revolution Starts Now

This week, I challenge you to experiment. Try one genuine rest activity each day. Not because it's "good for you" or because research says so, but because you're curious about what might actually restore you.

Maybe it's:

• Ten minutes staring out your dorm window
• Sketching whatever's in front of you
• Writing three pages of whatever's in your head
• Stretching on the floor with soft music
• Walking around campus without earbuds
• Having a real conversation with someone you trust

After each experiment, pay attention. How do you feel? More like yourself or less? More capable or more depleted?

Trust what you discover.

The Student You're Becoming

Here's what I've learned from students who figure this out: They don't just survive college—they thrive in it. They show up to classes with energy. They write papers with clarity. They handle stress with resilience. They build relationships with presence.

Not because they're working harder, but because they're resting better.

You've spent years learning to follow other people's definitions of success. Maybe it's time to discover your own definition of restoration.

What I Know Now

The system that taught you to optimize everything else forgot to teach you the most important optimization of all: how to actually recover.

But you don't need their permission to figure it out. You don't need a perfect plan, a research study, or your parents' approval.

You just need to start paying attention to what brings you back to yourself.

Because here's the truth they don't tell you: > The student who knows how to truly rest is the student who can handle anything.

Your future self—the one tackling meaningful challenges with energy and clarity—is counting on you to figure this out.

The question isn't whether you have time to rest properly. It's whether you can afford to keep resting wrong.

Start today. Start small. Start with curiosity about what restoration actually feels like for you. Your exhausted self will thank you—and so will everyone who gets to experience the more energized, present, authentic version of you that emerges.