There are just some foods that are summer. Like, have you even had a summer if you haven’t had potato salad? Watermelon. Lemonade. A burger. Maybe a popsicle dripping down your hand on a porch somewhere. It’s not just food—it’s a feeling.

Potato salad has always been one of those for me. Growing up, my best friend Lauren’s mom made the best version I’ve had to this day—

Most people don’t realize they’ve built a life around survival cues. Urgency, pressure, overcommitment, hustle, people-pleasing—these stress signals often become the foundation of our routines, not because we chose them consciously, but because they’re normalized.

The result? Lives that look productive on the outside but feel chaotic, disconnected, and unsustainable on the inside.

But what if we stopped designing our lives around what keeps us stressed—and started designing around what helps us feel safe, steady, and well?

We’re told to push through.

Push through the tiredness.
The headache.
The short fuse.
The gut feeling that something’s off.

We reward it. Celebrate it. Build entire identities around being the one who never quits. And for a while, it works. You get things done. You check the boxes. You hold it all together.

But at what cost?

"My nervous system is fried." "I’m just so dysregulated." "My nerves are shot."

These phrases are everywhere right now—and while it’s good that nervous system language is becoming more mainstream, most people still don’t really know what they’re talking about.

Let’s clear it up.

I’ve come to believe that psychologists have a bit of an inferiority complex.

In the quest to be taken seriously—to prove that we’re “real doctors”—the field moved closer to medicine, and further away from its roots. We embraced diagnostics, lab coats, and the scientific method. We wanted to sit at the same table as MDs.

But in doing so, we distanced ourselves from something essential: the truth that psychology is, at its heart, a deeply holistic practice.

“How can I tell if I’m being lazy or if I just need to rest? I feel guilty whenever I stop, but I’m so exhausted.”

This is such a great question and one I hear often. When people are new to the idea of resting—or want to integrate more rest into their lives—it can feel uncomfortable. There’s often uncertainty about whether they’re truly resting or just being lazy, and a lack of trust in their own needs.

If you’ve ever wrestled with this, you’re not alone. Let’s explore the difference between rest and laziness and break down the confusion so you can move forward with clarity and ease.

The nervous system is one of those things most people shy away from learning about because it can seem complicated. It's easy to forget what’s what—especially when terms like sympathetic and parasympathetic get thrown around. But don't worry, we’re going to keep it simple and practical. By the end of this post, you'll not only understand how these systems work but also have some tips for remembering which is which, and how to start using this knowledge to regulate your stress levels and overall well-being.

Most of us think of rest as just sleeping or scrolling through our phones, but real rest goes so much deeper. The reason so many of us feel constantly exhausted and depleted is because we’re not addressing the specific types of rest we actually need. Real rest is about recharging the parts of you that get drained by everyday life, so you can show up fully for the things that matter most. Let’s dive into the 7 different types of rest, a framework provided by Saundra Dalton-Smith, M.D., to help you identify and meet your rest deficits in the right areas: