What was really behind my “laziness” and what I now know

“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself as I am, I can change.” ~Carl Rogers

I remember sitting on the living room floor one evening while my sons played nearby. One of them was trying to build something out of Legos and getting more and more frustrated every time it broke. I don’t even remember exactly what he said now, I just felt it just by looking at him.

Because I suddenly recognized that frustration in myself.

Not just at that moment, but for most of my life.

The feeling of wanting to do something, sometimes badly, but somehow not being able to stay within yourself to actually do it consistently.

I used to call that laziness.

Many people probably did.

Growing up, things at home can change quickly depending on the day. My father sometimes drank too much. Sometimes there was excitement before he even walked through the door. You can still feel it in your stomach before anything happens.

But childhood is strange. I still remember the good stuff.

Football with friends on a summer evening. Watching TV with my brother. The smell of coffee in the kitchen in the morning before school. Ordinary moments interspersed with things that perhaps weren’t ordinary at all.

I think it confused me for years because I didn’t feel like someone who had been through “real trauma”. I thought trauma belonged to other people. Those who had it worse.

Meanwhile, my body was constantly reacting to the stress, and I didn’t even realize it.

As I got older, I started drinking myself. Next came drugs, chaos, stupid decisions, feeling completely lost, and then times where I looked perfectly fine on the outside. This was also part of the confusion. I can sometimes work extremely well under pressure. Better than many people around me.

But everyday life? Normal routine? Calm structure? That was often difficult.

I can stay focused during times of intensity, conflict, urgency, high stress. But folding laundry, answering emails, being emotionally present, doing small repetitive things day after day without escaping into confusion felt somehow exhausting that I couldn’t explain to anyone.

And honestly, I carry a lot of shame about it.

Especially after becoming a father.

Because once you have children you start to see yourself differently. Or maybe more precisely. i don’t know

I just know there were moments where I would react too quickly, get emotionally overwhelmed too quickly, or just lose motivation completely and disappear into my head, and then I’d sit there and think:

For years, I thought the answer was discipline. Or lack of discipline.

I thought maybe I needed to try harder.

But eventually I started reading more about stress, dopamine, motivation, nervous system regulation, and how repeated experiences shape the brain over time. Not academically at first. In a more desperate way, honestly. Like someone trying to understand why life seemed harder than it felt for other people.

And slowly, the pieces begin to connect.

Not an excuse. just understand

I began to realize that the brain is much more adaptable to the environment than most of us. Especially during childhood. If stress, unpredictability, emotional tension, overstimulation or chaos occurs repeatedly enough, the nervous system begins to organize itself around it.

You start living in reaction before you even notice it’s happening.

I think a lot of adults go around calling themselves lazy when they’re actually dealing with a nervous system that learned survival long before it learned safety.

And survival patterns don’t automatically disappear because your life looks more stable afterward.

Sometimes they follow you into relationships Between parents

at work In inspiration. at rest Within your ability to sit still without the need for noise, stimulation, food, alcohol, scrolling, conflict, or distraction.

I still catch myself doing this.

Especially now, in quiet moments.

What has changed for me is not becoming a completely healthy person. Honestly, I don’t think life works that way. What has changed is learning to stop immediately turning every struggle into a character flaw.

Now I am more curious about it.

What is this response? Why does my body go there so quickly? What did my nervous system learn years ago that it still thinks I need today?

This change alone changed the way I parented my children.

Because children are constantly learning from experience. Not from what we tell them, but from what life around them feels like over and over again.

Thinking about it a lot now.

Not in a criminal way anymore. In a more responsible way.

And maybe that’s the difference.