The Addiction to Busyness: What Are You Running From?

I grew up in a family where being busy wasn’t just a habit—it was proof that you were contributing, that you had a place in the world. As an adult, not being busy wasn’t seen as freedom; it was seen as failure—like a summer day with nothing to do, a waste.

So being or keeping yourself busy meant respect. It meant also that people wouldn’t ask questions or pry too deeply into your life. They assumed you were fine because you keep doing things. And, honestly, even I didn’t had the time to ask myself if I was fine or not, for long time. There was always something to do—something to prove—so why stop to think?

I’m sharing this because I know I’m not alone. Maybe you’ve felt the same pull—to measure your worth by your workload, to stay in this "busy energy" so no one (not even yourself) notices the cracks.

If you are like this too, did you ever wondered why you can’t sit still? Why you feel restless the moment things slow down? Maybe you’re the parent who keeps finding chores to do even when the house is clean. Or the friend who says yes to every favor because slowing down feels selfish. Or the person who packs their weekend with plans because every single moment in your life must not be wasted.

This isn’t just busyness—it’s your brain’s way of running. But the question is: From what?"

I know that, being busy can feel good. It gives you purpose, keeps you moving, and makes it easy to avoid those quiet moments when the weight of everything might catch up to you. Maybe, deep down, you’re running from that little voice asking, Is this really the life I want?
Or the ache of a relationship that feels more distant than you’d like. Or the fear that if you pause, even for a moment, everything you’ve been holding inside will finally catch up to you.

Busyness can be a comfort. Your brain craves it because it drowns out the noise—the doubts, the worries, the questions. It’s like cranking up the radio so you don’t have to hear what’s playing in the background of your mind. And what makes it even harder to get out from this busy energy is that busyness can feel so productive too and even rewarding, can’t it? There’s a sense of accomplishment in crossing things off your list, in always being on the move.

But when busyness becomes a coping mechanism, it starts draining you in ways you don’t even realize:

•  Relationships Start to Slip Away:
  You’re so focused on tasks, deadlines, and what’s next that you miss the small, quiet moments—the kind that build trust, love, and connection. These moments seem insignificant in the rush, but they’re the glue that holds relationships together.
•  Your Body Quietly Suffers:
  Constantly being “on” keeps your cortisol levels high. You might notice the tiredness, the irritability, or even the headaches and sickness that seem to come out of nowhere. Your body always keeps score, even when you don’t.
•  You Forget Yourself:
  Just stop now from reading and try to remember when was the last time you paused life and really asked, What do I want? What makes me feel alive? When you’re always busy, those questions get buried under lists and schedules until you lose sight of who you are beyond the busyness. 

There was a time when my busyness was my business card. People would say, “I don’t know how you do it,” and I’d smile, soaking in the admiration. It felt good to be seen as capable, as strong. The problem was that I was not feeling strong, I was feeling lost. And yet, I turned up the volume—more work, more dates, more responsibilities—until eventually, the radio I relied on to cover that noise burned out. And then, in the quiet, I realized something: I wasn’t overwhelmed by my schedule. I was overwhelmed by myself. Every time I was trying to pause, even for a moment, it felt like I was a bag full of marbles —each one representing an emotion, an uncomfortable  thought, a fear, a doubt. My bag was already full—stretched so tight it felt like one more thing will make it explode. And yet every time someone asked, every time an opportunity came up, I’d say yes. I’d tell myself, I can handle it. Just one more. And so I’d drop another marble into that oversaturated bag, convincing myself it was fine.

And then, it happened. The bag didn’t just break—it shattered. All at once, the marbles spilled everywhere, hitting the ground with that sharp, chaotic sound. The kind of sound that cuts through everything else and forces you to stop, just like scratching a blackboard with your fingernails. They bounced in every direction—impossible to catch, impossible to control. I stood there, frozen, as the noise filled the room, filled my head, filled my body. It was overwhelming. Each marble  seemed to echo with everything I’d been holding inside: the fear, the doubt, the exhaustion I’d been running from.

In that moment, it felt like my whole world was exploding in front of me, spilling out in a mess I couldn’t fix. I wanted so badly to gather the marbles, to put them back where they belonged, but I couldn’t. They kept rolling, popping further away with every attempt I made. And then I realized the worst part: I didn’t even know where to start.

That moment was terrifying. I wasn’t living; I was surviving. I wasn’t building a life—I was stacking marbles into a bag that could never hold them all. I thought saying yes to everything meant I was in control, but really, I was breaking myself one task, one commitment, one bead at a time.

So I learned that being busy doesn’t mean being successful. Success isn’t about how full your schedule is; it’s about how balanced it is. A packed calendar can be a beautiful thing—as long as, with the same strictness you give to meetings and deadlines, you also spare time for yourself. Time to reset, to recharge, to reconnect with what matters most.

Because when we don’t? That busyness can become a mask—a distraction from the fears, doubts, or emotions we’re too scared to face. We tell ourselves we’re too busy to stop, but the truth is, we’re afraid of what we might find if we do.

So let me ask you: What are you running from? What are you filling your days with to avoid hearing that voice inside?

It’s not easy to pause and listen. But when you do, you might just find that what you’re running from isn’t as scary as you thought—and that within that stillness, there’s a chance to create a life that’s not just full, but fulfilling.

Here is a FIRST AID KIT I’m using when I catch myself slipping back into old habits.

1. Start With One Question
   Every morning, ask yourself: Why am I doing all of this? Is it for validation? To avoid something? To prove yourself? Is it worth it? This isn’t about judging your answer—it’s about getting honest with yourself.
2. Embrace Small Moments of Stillness
   Stillness doesn’t mean sitting cross-legged meditating for hours. It’s pausing for a few minutes to breathe deeply before picking up your phone or starting your day. It’s stepping outside to feel the sun on your face for 10-15 minutes before diving into your next task. 
3. Say No to Say Yes
   Saying no isn’t selfish. It’s a way of saying yes to the things that truly matter. Start small—decline one unnecessary commitment this week and notice how it feels to have that time back.
4. Face What You’re Avoiding
   Take a piece of paper and write down the things you know you’re avoiding. Maybe it’s a conversation you’ve been putting off, a fear you haven’t named, or a truth you don’t want to face. Just naming these things can take away their power.
5. Reconnect With Joy
   Remember the last time you felt truly alive? When time didn’t matter, and you were just... happy? Do one thing this week that brings you closer to that feeling—whether it’s dancing in your kitchen, painting, or playing with your kids. 

XoXo

Larisa Pop