Why is it so hard to ‘switch off’ from work?: Commentary (UAT 1)

It had been a busy few weeks at work, and it was about to get worse. 

I was covering for a colleague on leave and was set to work two consecutive Sundays on top of my usual weekday duties. I had steeled myself for a long, hard slog – and I was constantly on edge. 

Then, the day before I started my work week, it happened. I bent over to pick up some clothes on the floor – and felt a pop in my back, followed by sudden, excruciating pain. 

As a young (or so I thought) thirty-something, I optimistically assumed it was a muscle strain that would go away with a few hours of rest. But hours later, I still couldn’t straighten my back – much less walk. I was forced to accept reality: This wasn’t ordinary. 

I reluctantly headed to the hospital, where I discovered a spinal disc injury. And as the doctor bluntly told me, I wasn’t going anywhere, least of all to work. It was a hospital stay, followed by bed rest for at least the next few weeks. 

Some part of me probably knew this. But my mind was in overdrive. I had to work the next day – a Sunday – and the rest of the week. Who was going to cover for me? Perhaps I could work from my hospital bed? Could I get my laptop sent over? 

In short, I was in denial. Big time. 

Why couldn’t I switch off? 

Going from a state of all-out frenzied activity to total rest might seem fairly extreme. But how many of us are having the same trouble on a smaller scale, on a regular basis? 

With technology and work-from-home arrangements increasingly blurring the boundaries between our work and home lives, we may think nothing of quickly shooting off an e-mail or work-related message after hours or while we’re on leave. 

It won’t take us long, we reason, to respond to something – and we won’t be greeted by an overflowing inbox when we return. 

Many of us may not even realise we have this issue. According to the Institute of Mental Health’s (IMH) Dr Mok Yee Ming, patients have difficulty “finding space to do other things”, like having time for their hobbies or to exercise. 

“They usually do not say explicitly that they cannot switch off,” said Dr Mok, a senior consultant at IMH’s department of mood and anxiety.  

Clinical psychologist Jit Tan said she sees clients who talk about having intrusive thoughts about work that recur outside work hours, or feel the need to keep checking their e-mail “just in case something comes in”. 

Why is it so hard to “switch off”? 

One reason, according to Ms Tan, from mental health company Intellect, is cultural conditioning. “We are brought up in an environment where people are busy all the time, and we’re expected to be productive members of society,” she said.

“We start thinking that if we’re not succeeding, it’s because ‘I’m not working hard enough’.” 

At the workplace level, Ms Tan highlighted that some may not feel supported enough by their companies.

“A very common message I hear from my clients is that their boss says they will support them. But he also says, ‘Sorry, you still have to get the work done’.”

And, she added, when we are in an environment where everybody around us is working overtime, or on weekends, we may find it harder to switch off.

“(Our bosses) may say all they want about work-life balance, which is great. They may even have good intentions. But modelling has an impact on all of us,” she said. 

On a personal level, a sense of responsibility – or even passion for the work they do – may push people to want to invest more in work. 

The need to fill our time 

There are also some of us who may be burning out not just at work, but in life too. 

Prior to my accident, I felt I had a decent work-life balance. I had conscientiously been scheduling breaks away from work. I even managed to get seven to eight hours of sleep a night – no small feat for a mum of two young kids! 

But, as I realised belatedly, what I had been excelling at was optimising my time. A break, to me, meant time that should be filled doing “productive”, non-work things – like planning excursions for my children, social gatherings or squeezing in an exercise class. 

Simply put, if there was a window of time, I would compulsively need to fill it with “something”. 

Confined to bed, I realised I was deeply uncomfortable – and very bored. Why was this? 

“As Singaporeans, we have deeply imbibed the need to be productive,” said IMH’s Dr Mok. “And we feel the need to be always on, be it either at work, or even at play.” 

He added: “There is a sense of internal ‘shame’ if individuals take time off to rest, or just chill.”

For that reason, we have been conditioned to view the idea of “bed rot” – or lying in bed doing nothing – as a bad thing.

“Imagine your parents see you lying in bed – what’s the first thing they’ll say to you?” said Intellect’s Ms Tan. “Get out of bed.”  

The real meaning of rest 

Before this, I never saw that I could burn out from my non-work activities. After all, I derived meaning and enjoyment from spending time with my family or working out. But looking back, there were warning signs. My weekends, as productive as they were, started to feel like they were more tiring than my workdays. And when I travelled, I often came back exhausted. 

Enforced bed rest gave me the space and time to re-examine exactly what real rest should look like. 

In particular, I found physician Saundra Dalton-Smith’s concept of the seven types of rest useful to consider. Besides adequate and quality sleep, there is mental rest – the ability to quiet cerebral chatter. Emotional rest is where we are able to be fully ourselves. Social rest involves time away from draining social interactions.

A quiz I took showed I was lacking in six out of the seven types of rest. 

Rest can look different for different people. The key is to be doing something that provides a sense of being restored and recharged, according to Ms Tan. For some, that could look like resting in bed, while for others, it could be an outdoor hike. 

“But everything should be in moderation,” she said.

I used bed rest to catch up on sleep and relished the freedom of quality time with my family at home. I also filled the hours devouring books.

The temptation to reach for my laptop was always there, as was the compulsion to respond to work chats. But as the days went by, I found myself reaching for my devices less often, and when I finally returned to work, I found myself more settled.  

Today, months on from the injury, I’d hesitate to say there has been a full transformation in the way I approach work. After all, years of conditioning can’t be unlearnt in an instant – and learning to set boundaries is an ongoing process.

But instead of waiting for burnout to happen before making a major overhaul, Ms Tan suggests steps like not checking work chats while on leave – and actually making it a priority to adhere. 

No doubt we won’t be comfortable – we may feel slightly anxious, or have intrusive thoughts. “But hold firm, and the more you do it, the more you realise it gets better,” she said.

I’m taking that advice – and learning to accept that the world will not end if I don’t check my e-mail every five minutes. 

Source: The Straits Times © SPH Media Limited. Permission required for reproduction.

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