0226: Why Rest Feels Unsafe

(The part of recovery no one prepared you for)

There’s a strange moment many women experience after breast cancer...
one that doesn’t get talked about very much.

Treatment ends. Appointments slow down.
People say things like, “Now you can finally rest.”

And yet…
when you try to slow down, your body doesn’t soften.

It tightens.

Rest doesn’t feel relieving.
It feels uncomfortable. Sometimes even scary.

“I thought I’d feel calmer once everything was over… but my body didn’t get the memo.”

If that’s been your experience, I want you to know this first:

Nothing has gone wrong.
And you are not doing rest “wrong.”

Rest feels like giving in, not recovering.

This is one of those sentences women say quietly...
often with a little shame attached.

“I feel lazy when I rest… like I had the perfect excuse when I was in treatment, but I don’t now.”

Because from the outside, it looks like rest should feel good.

You survived something enormous.
Of course you deserve to slow down.

And yet, when you finally stop pushing…
your mind races.
Your chest feels tight.
Your body stays alert... like it’s waiting for something else to happen.

Another shoe to drop.
Another scan.
Another loss.

“If I slow down, I feel like I’m letting my guard down… and that doesn’t feel safe.”

That doesn’t mean you’re resistant to rest or recovery.

It means your body learned something important.

Of course rest feels unsafe...your body learned how to survive.

During cancer and often throughout months or years of treatment and recovery your nervous system adapted.

It learned that staying alert mattered.
 

That scanning for problems kept you safe.
 

That pushing through was necessary.

And for many women, myself included, this didn’t stop when treatment ended.

Radiation side-effects.
Surgical recovery.
Menopausal symptoms.
Ongoing pain, inflammation, or disrupted sleep.
Hormone therapies like Tamoxifen or Letrozole that quietly drain energy, fog thinking, and change how your body feels day to day.

All of that keeps the nervous system on high alert.

That adaptation wasn’t a flaw.
It was intelligent.

Your body did exactly what it needed to do to get you through a frightening, uncertain chapter.

So when people now say, “Just rest,”
your nervous system doesn’t hear relief.

It hears risk.

“Rest feels like the moment something bad could sneak in.”

Because from its point of view, slowing down once meant danger.

This isn’t a mindset issue. It’s a safety issue.

This is such an important reframe.

If rest feels unsafe, it’s not because:

• you lack discipline
• you’re bad at self-care
• you don’t want to feel better badly enough

And it’s not something you can fix by “trying harder” to relax.

When your body is still dealing with the aftershocks of treatment or the ongoing effects of hormone medication, pushing yourself to rest can actually feel threatening.

Rest doesn’t feel unsafe because it’s wrong.
It feels unsafe because your nervous system hasn’t learned yet that the danger has passed.

“Once I understood this, I stopped being so hard on myself.”

That’s a very different starting point.

I often think of this like driving a car with the parking brake still on.

From the outside, everything looks fine.
The engine is running.
You’re pressing the gas.

But something feels off.

The car doesn’t move the way it used to.
It feels heavy. Sluggish. Resistant.

Not because you’re doing anything wrong...
but because a safety mechanism that once mattered hasn’t been released yet.

For many women after breast cancer, rest feels the same way.

You’re trying to slow down…
but part of your system is still bracing, still protecting, still holding the brake... especially when your body is managing ongoing side-effects or hormone medication.

And no amount of pushing the gas makes that feel better.

When rest comes with guilt and the fear of being “too much”.

For many women, rest after treatment doesn’t just feel unsafe...
it feels undeserved.

You’ve already rested so much.
You’ve already needed so much.
Other people showed up, adjusted, worried, helped.

And somewhere along the way, a quiet rule formed:

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

So even when your body is asking for more care, especially while navigating side-effects or hormone therapy...guilt creeps in.

“I should be able to do more by now.”
“I don’t want to keep slowing everyone down.”

That tension doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful.
It means you care deeply about others....often more easily than you care for yourself.

And your nervous system learned that taking up less space felt safer than asking for more.

Why pushing worked before… and doesn’t anymore.

Before cancer, pushing might have worked.

You could override tiredness.
Ignore discomfort.
Tell yourself you’d rest later.

But after everything your body has been through...including treatments and medications that directly affect energy, joints, mood, and stress response... pushing doesn’t motivate anymore.

For many women, it does the opposite.

It shuts things down.

“Pushing doesn’t energize me anymore… it actually makes me disappear.”

Your body isn’t asking for more effort.

It’s asking for safety first.

Understanding comes before rest.

This is the part of recovery no one really prepared you for.

Rest isn’t something you force your way into.
It’s something that becomes possible once your body feels safer.

And safety doesn’t come from more information or perfect routines.

It starts with understanding.

Understanding that your exhaustion may be shaped not just by stress...
but by the very treatments and medications meant to help you survive.

“Just knowing there was a reason my body reacted this way was a relief.”

Understanding is often the first real opening.

You’re Not the Only One

When she arrived, she kept apologizing for how tired she was… even though treatment had ended months ago.

What surprised her most wasn’t learning how to manage her energy better, it was realizing how much guilt she was carrying about needing rest at all.

“I thought something was wrong with me. Knowing it wasn’t just me… changed everything.”

A different question to carry this month

So instead of asking:
Why can’t I rest properly yet?

You might gently ask:
What would help my body feel just a little safer today...without feeling like a burden?

Not forever.
Not perfectly.

Just a little.

That question alone can soften the edges.

Gentle Invitation

If this post put words to something you’ve been carrying...
especially the mix of exhaustion, guilt, and the pressure to “be back to normal”...
you’re not alone.

One of the most common energy drains I see after breast cancer isn’t doing too little.
 

It’s having no boundaries around rest, care, and emotional space.

That’s why I created a free, very gentle guide:

7 Boundaries to Safeguard Your Energy

It includes simple, compassionate boundary ideas —
especially for women who don’t want to feel lazy, selfish, or like a burden for needing rest.

No pressure.
No fixing.

Just a place to begin.

👉 Download the free guide here