Your Anxiety Isn’t Laziness: What Executive Function Really Means

You know what’s harder than people realize? Starting.

Not starting a business or a big life change. I’m talking about starting the dishwasher. Starting the reply to that email you’ve reread five times. Starting a task that, on paper, takes two minutes, but somehow feels like running a marathon with a weighted blanket wrapped around your shoulders. If you’ve ever been there, if you’ve ever frozen in front of your own life and called it laziness—this is for you. Because what you’re dealing with isn’t laziness at all. It’s something called executive dysfunction. And in many cases, anxiety is the hidden force behind it.

Let’s talk about executive function

Executive function is the term psychologists use to describe the brain’s ability to manage time, switch focus, control impulses, follow through, regulate emotions, and hold plans in working memory. Think of it as the operating system running silently in the background of your life. When it’s doing its job, things flow. You remember appointments, shift between tasks, talk yourself down when frustrated, and finish what you start.

When executive function isn’t working properly, that flow stops. You might feel stuck. Overwhelmed. Disconnected. Everything starts to take longer. You move slower. The smallest requests feel enormous. And instead of responding, you retreat. Not because you don’t care, but because your brain literally cannot sort through what needs to happen next.

This is where anxiety steps in

Anxiety changes how your brain operates. It pulls energy away from the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain responsible for thinking clearly—and redirects it to the part designed for survival. Your body begins reacting to ordinary tasks as if they’re threats. That text message waiting for a response? Suddenly it feels like confrontation. That task your manager casually assigned? It feels like a trap you’re going to fail. And once your body has decided something is dangerous, it will do everything in its power to protect you. That’s why you suddenly feel tired. Why your stomach drops. Why your brain goes fuzzy and you start reaching for anything—your phone, snacks, silence—just to escape the discomfort.

What it actually feels like

Executive dysfunction isn’t just about forgetting or avoiding. It’s about watching yourself not follow through on things you know matter to you—and feeling helpless to change it in the moment.

It can look like:

• Scrolling your phone for hours while half-aware that something important is waiting

• Telling yourself “I’ll start in 5 minutes” and watching the whole day slip by

• Crying over dishes or unopened mail because it feels too overwhelming to start

• Dodging social plans or work calls, even though connection is what you crave most

• Feeling constantly “behind” but unable to catch up

And the worst part? You’re painfully aware of what’s happening. That awareness can make the shame feel even heavier. Because it’s not about not knowing—it’s about not being able to act on what you know.

Why it’s not about motivation

There’s this idea that if you just wanted something badly enough, you’d push through. That you should be able to muscle your way into doing the thing. But here’s the truth: when your nervous system is dysregulated, logic and motivation aren’t in charge. You can know you need to leave the house, file that form, or start your assignment. You can want to feel accomplished and capable. But if your brain doesn’t feel safe or settled, that gap between desire and action becomes wide and hard to cross.

This is why the “just do it” mentality doesn’t work for people with chronic anxiety or trauma histories. You’re not being difficult. Your brain is doing exactly what it was trained to do prioritize safety, not productivity.

Here’s what actually helps

Real change starts by shifting the question from “Why can’t I do this?” to “What support does my brain need right now?” That small shift opens the door to compassion and rewiring not more shame. Here are some starting points:

Start with your body
If your body is stuck in survival mode, you have to regulate before you can initiate. Try deep, intentional breathing. Try walking or stretching. Try cold water or gentle tapping. You’re not wasting time by calming down. You’re prepping your brain to come back online.

Make the task smaller than you think it should be
Your brain can’t handle broad, vague goals when it’s overwhelmed. Don’t say “write the report.” Say “open the laptop.” Don’t say “clean the kitchen.” Say “clear the counter.” Let small steps count, because they do.

Externalize the plan
When your working memory is taxed, you can’t rely on your mind to hold everything. Use sticky notes, voice memos, visual checklists—anything that frees your brain from juggling. This makes space for clarity.

Talk to yourself like someone who deserves kindness
Your inner dialogue matters. If your default tone is critical or harsh, your brain stays on alert. Say things like, “This is hard, and I’m allowed to take it slow.” Or, “I’m overwhelmed, not incapable.” These words may feel strange at first, but over time they create a safer internal environment.

Celebrate the start, not just the finish
Too many of us only feel proud when something is complete. But when you struggle with executive function, the start is often the biggest win. Celebrate it. Let that be enough for now.

This is more common than you think

Executive dysfunction is not rare. It often comes up for people living with ADHD, anxiety, depression, trauma, chronic illness, burnout, and more. It’s not a sign that you’re weak, broken, or lazy. It’s a signal that your brain is working extra hard to manage something behind the scenes.

You are not the only one whispering, “Why is this so hard?”

Final truth: you are not behind

You are living in a system that values output over humanity. A culture that sees burnout as a badge of honor. In that kind of world, struggling to function is not a personal failure it’s a perfectly human response.

So the next time you catch yourself spiraling in guilt over something you “should” have done, stop. Take a breath. Touch your heart. And ask, “What would it look like to be gentle with myself right now?”

Because you’re not behind. You’re healing. You’re figuring it out. You’re learning to listen to your body and honor your mind.

And that? That is its own kind of brilliance