When was the last time you did nothing? How about the last time you did nothing... and didn’t feel bad about it? If a weekend spent doing nothing productive fills you with guilt-ridden dread, you might have Freizeistress – a German term that describes the stress of free time. Or, to put it in plain English, you’re probably addicted to being busy.

‘Busyness can become a coping mechanism,’ explains Rob Cross, the author of new book Ask 3 Questions: How To Live Well In A Distracted World. ‘It’s socially approved, endlessly available and is capable of distracting us from the discomfort of being alone with our thoughts – especially those where we acknowledge that there must be more to life than being busy!’

For some people reading, this will be immediately relatable. But for others, there’s a cognitive dissonance that makes us go ‘well, I don’t have a problem’. It’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking we’re clear of any unhealthy habits, particularly when the habit (staying busy and productive, in this case) is considered entirely acceptable by society.

For that latter group, let’s break down 5 signs that you might indeed be addicted to busyness. If more than one is ringing true, you might need to answer the call.

5 signs you’re addicted to being busy

You feel anxious when there’s nothing planned

‘An empty afternoon should offer freedom, but instead it makes you restless, guilty or uneasy,’ says Rob. ‘You may immediately invent a task, plan an outing or check your phone. This creates addiction because activity removes the discomfort almost instantly. Your brain learns that staying busy is the quickest way to escape difficult feelings or questions. Each time you fill the space, you reinforce the belief that stillness is unsafe, which ultimately makes genuine rest increasingly difficult to tolerate.’

You turn leisure into another achievement

‘Holidays become tightly scheduled itineraries, exercise must produce measurable results, and even reading needs to contribute to feel like it has a tangible outcome. You struggle to do something simply because it is enjoyable, preferring instead to address every leisure activity as a task to be completed. In this context, busyness becomes addictive because achievement supplies frequent rewards: progress, praise and the reassuring feeling that time has not been “wasted”. Gradually, your sense of worth becomes tied to productivity, so unstructured pleasure begins to feel indulgent rather than essential to a well-lived life.’

You are rarely fully present

‘You may be sitting beside the pool, sharing a meal or spending time with your children, yet part of your attention remains tethered to messages, notifications or the next item on your list. Constant checking provides small bursts of stimulation and reassurance, strengthening the urge to remain available. Eventually, divided attention feels normal. You are physically present but psychologically elsewhere, rushing through experiences without properly inhabiting them and missing the connection and restoration that time away was meant to provide.’

You insist that your circumstances give you no choice

‘My job demands it’ or ‘everything will fall apart if I stop’ may contain some truth, but they can also protect the habit from scrutiny. External demands create busyness, while internal forces, including perfectionism, insecurity, fear of disappointing people or the need to feel indispensable, keep it going. The addiction deepens because every completed task appears to validate the story that only constant effort prevents disaster. Being busy becomes both proof of your importance and protection from vulnerability.

You continue despite the physical and emotional cost

‘Poor sleep, headaches, constant tension, irritability and exhaustion are warning signs, yet you respond by pushing harder or becoming even more organised. Stopping can produce something resembling withdrawal: a strange gap in which thoughts and feelings begin to surface. Busyness is addictive because it has been doing emotional work, which in turn provides structure, identity and escape. When the activity disappears, so does that protection. It can therefore feel easier to ignore your body than confront what the silence might reveal.’

3 steps to break the busyness cycle

You’ve recognised the problem... now what? Rob suggests three simple steps to break the cycle.

Dig into what’s behind it

‘Recognise what’s driving your dependence on busyness,’ Rob suggests. ‘Separate genuine external demands from internal pressures. Ask what being busy gives you: status, reassurance, control, escape or protection from disappointing others? You cannot change a pattern until you understand the work it is doing for you.’

Work out what’s important to you

‘Define what matters most. Decide who and what genuinely deserve your finite time and energy. Without clear priorities, the urgent will continually displace the important, leaving you highly active but poorly directed.’

Be ruthless about where your time goes

‘Remove, decline or delegate activities that do not support those priorities. Protect unscheduled time, turn off unnecessary notifications and practise leaving some gaps unfilled. The aim is not simply to do less; it is to create enough space to think, feel and choose consciously, rather than continually react.’

Ask 3 Questions: How To Live Well In A Distracted World is out 9 September