Dear Reader,

I didn’t share this in my last newsletter, but almost immediately after stepping out of the airport coming home from our holiday, I came down with a virus.

On the plane ride—and in the car on the way home—I had been mentally compiling a monumental to-do list. I was mapping out everything I needed to organise for the first week of the school term, alongside all the tasks I needed to check off for work. I was ready to hit the ground running.

Instead, the virus hit me hard.

It came with diffuse, frustrating symptoms that were hard to quantify—predominantly vertigo and a strong fatigue. I spent the next two days horizontal. And as I lay there, I found myself repeatedly, excessively apologising to my partner for being "unproductive." (He, of course, was compassionate and caring, giving zero judgment, but my internal critic didn't care.)

Even while flat on my back, I kept trying to find at least one small thing I could check off my list just to feel worthy of the day.

I eventually returned to some normalcy, but the exhaustion lingered for a full week. I wasn't as sharp, and I wasn't as productive as I usually am. In truth, I probably needed more time to rest and recover, but I found it really hard to give myself permission to actually take it.

It’s funny—and humbling—how you can talk the talk. You can know all the right things to do, understand the neurobiology of rest, and hold space for others to slow down. But when it comes down to applying it to yourself? The double standards show up in full force.

You would wholeheartedly grant grace, bed rest, and zero guilt to a friend, a client, or a partner. But to yourself? No, you have to keep pushing. And if you’re forced to stop, you at least have to feel guilty about it.

When we dig beneath that guilt, we usually find old blueprints. So many of us grew up absorbed in the belief that our worth is intricately tied to our output and efficiency.

These internal stories run deep. When illness or fatigue forces us off our feet, our system panics, treating rest as a risk rather than a necessity. The protective voice demanding we "do more" isn't broken or flawed—it’s just relying on an outdated survival map that equates busyness with safety.

Unlearning this isn't about waging war on our internal critic. It’s about awareness and care.

Our task is to notice when these old patterns take the wheel, shift our behaviour when we have the capacity, and grant ourselves self-compassion when we can't.

Do you know you deserve the rest, and desperately need it, yet find yourself resisting it the moment the time comes? What allows you to drop the guilt and lean into true, permission-granted self-care when your body demands it?

I’m still practicing this myself — and I know I will be for a while!

With love and warmth, Zac ♥

Dr Zac Elizabeth Buchanan | Clinical Psychologist​
The Return
​drzacelizabeth.com @dr.zacelizabeth​