The last 7 days have been a bit of a car crash.

Mentally? I’ve been spiralling. Emotionally? Fragile, to say the least. And just to spice things up a bit, I got hit with a vomiting bug mid-meltdown. Iconic timing, really.

But what’s properly messed with me isn’t the stress or even being sick, it’s how I’ve treated myself through it all. I’ve felt low, anxious, and out of it all week… and instead of cutting myself some slack, I’ve just piled on the guilt. For not doing more. For not being more productive. For not feeling better, faster.

I’ve not been functioning at full capacity, and somehow, I’ve still found the energy to drag myself for not keeping up.

It’s wild how we do that, right? Life can be crumbling, your brain foggy, your heart heavy, and your body clearly saying pause – but your mind still whispers, “you’ve done nothing today.”

Nice one for that reminder.

I don’t always push myself to the brink. I know how to rest, I take breaks, I’m not one of those ‘no days off’ people. But when life hits from every direction – mentally, emotionally, physically – that’s when the guilt creeps in. Suddenly, every second I’m not doing something feels like I’m falling behind. Like I’m letting myself down. Like I should be coping better.

There were moments this week where I was lying in bed, emotionally drained and physically rough, and still thinking “I should at least try to be productive”. Not in a gentle, motivating way but in a “you’re wasting time” kind of way. Like resting wasn’t allowed, even though I clearly needed it.

And honestly, I think this is something we all experience. That internal voice that never shuts up. The one that tells you you’re not doing enough, even when your tank’s completely empty.

And it’s not just about work or productivity. It’s deeper than that. It’s the pressure to be okay. To keep up appearances. To handle everything with a smile. So when I’m not okay – when I’m overwhelmed or burnt out or just simply struggling – I immediately go into self-judgement mode.

I tell myself I’m weak. I tell myself I should be handling things better. I tell myself I’m falling apart for no reason, even though the reason is obvious: I’m tired. I’m stretched thin. I’m human.

This week has been a weird combo of everything at once. A heavy mental load. An overstimulated brain. A sick body. And an inner voice telling me I’m not doing enough through all of it.

But the truth is: I am doing enough. I’ve just been too mean to myself to realise it.

I wouldn’t speak to a friend the way I’ve spoken to myself this week. If someone I loved came to me saying they felt low, overwhelmed, and a bit physically unwell on top of it? I’d tell them to rest. To stop putting pressure on themselves. To listen to what their body and mind are saying.

But when it’s me? Zero grace. Just guilt, shame, and unrealistic expectations.

So yeah. This week’s lesson? I’m my own worst enemy sometimes. And not in a cute “haha I’m such a perfectionist” kind of way. More like I actively make hard days harder by not allowing myself to just be human.

I need to learn how to treat myself the way I treat others. With softness. With understanding. With space to feel what I feel without constantly trying to fix it or push through.

Because the reality is, I’m not lazy. I’m not weak. I’m just someone who had a rough week – I needed rest, not punishment.

So if you’ve been in the same place – mentally drained, maybe physically off too, and still being harsh on yourself – please know you’re not alone. Most of us are out here fighting invisible battles with ourselves, pretending everything’s fine while silently falling apart inside.

Let’s stop normalising that.

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do isn’t pushing through, it’s pausing. Saying “nope, I’m done for today.” Giving yourself permission to rest. And shutting down the voice in your head that says resting is a weakness.

Because it’s not.

You’re not lazy. You’re not a failure. You’re just tired. You’re just human. And that should be enough.

— Lilly x