I Woke Up On The Sofa At 1am Again, And Finally Understood Why
And why "self-care" might be quietly feeding your burnout instead of fixing it.
I love TV and films and can binge for hours.
It’s always been like that since childhood. I love the movie The Cable Guy as the line “the TV was my babysitter” resonated deeply.
I escaped into a make-believe world, away from the chaos and frustrations around me, and into other homes, realms, or lives.
And the truth is, I still use it as a distraction and comfort blanket now.
What I didn’t realise was how much comfort-seeking creeps into my life when I’m in a burnout phase:
Bingeing TV into the early hours and waking up on the sofa at 1am
Excessive online shopping for another jumper or pair of trousers to ‘perfect’ the office looks in my head
Skipping a walk outside to scroll YouTube videos for a few hours then forgetting what I did all evening
Making coffee after coffee to dodge an overwhelming to-do list, then working into the evening because I was wired.
Some of these might resonate, or maybe you have your own version of comfort-seeking habits when you look deeper.
What looks like self-care in the moment quietly compounds your stress and burnout, frittering time, resources, and energy in stealth-mode.
I know this happens in my clients too, so let’s explore why we trick ourselves into comfort-seeking and how to pull back.
The short-term relief fairy strikes again
Discomfort drives a lot of our behaviour, for good and for ill. Obvious, yes, but we still do it.
We choose actions and develop habits we know we’ll regret or know aren’t good for us.
Aside from shame, or the sense we’re failing our own standards, there’s a physical and psychological impact every time we give-in to unhealthy comfort-seeking.
So, the first insight here is to recognise not all comfort-seeking is bad.
We do need time for breaks.
To enjoy a show or film.
To get some mental detachment from the everyday stuff and restore ourselves.
The trick is knowing when this is truly restorative, versus avoidance or distraction from things you should pay attention to.
A clear example is Revenge Bedtime Procrastination, deliberately staying up when you’re tired, knowing it’ll cost you tomorrow.
To claw back “time for me” after a day that felt over-scheduled or controlled.
The Comfort-Seeker burnout pattern chooses brief relief and autonomy now, but the cost is less capacity later.
This feeds regret, shame and guilt, and drives a negative spiral which grinds away at our self-worth if we don’t nip it in the bud.
And what happens when we don’t feel good enough?
We seek more comfort and the spiral winds faster until we’re so exhausted we don’t know where to start.
Teaching ourselves the wrong lessons about comfort and restoration
The uncomfortable truth I keep relearning about comfort is that a quiet night is lovely, especially as a sensitive introvert, but can be a loophole.
Sometimes it wasn’t resting but choosing immediate ease over future bandwidth.
Under pressure, my attention narrows to the nearest sure thing.
The kettle is on more frequently. YouTube recommends “just one more” video.
When an easy click eases the tightness in my chest, my brain quietly updates its rewards value list and brings forward that option next time.
That’s why the next episode wins.
When I’m tired, the subjective cost of effort rises, so low-effort, high-certainty options feel way more attractive.
Relief gets reinforced, but deep recovery is postponed.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve woken up on the sofa at 1am with a cat at my feet and some random TV episode or YouTube video playing in the background.
Then I berate myself stumbling up to bed knowing I’ll feel groggy the next day.
Instead of considering fake comfort as self-care, the fix isn’t banning comfort but choosing the kind that actually returns capacity: short, deliberate breaks that let you breathe so your next step becomes obvious.
Not choosing numbing loops that push sleep, good habits, or meaningful work later.
Later, when I’m wired and under slept, I’ll wander to the kitchen “just for a nibble” and come back with a random bunch of food. It’s often an urge unrelated to hunger.
Sometimes it genuinely helps me feel steadier and less scattered.
Other times it’s clear I’ve chosen unwisely as it leaves me buzzier than restored.
This is an important sign to notice so I urge-surf the next time I’m tempted by an unhelpful urge.
Again, these behaviours don’t happen in isolation, and The Comfort-Seeker mode is often driven by hidden losses, such as:
The Loss of Stability: Stress and unpredictability bias the brain toward low-effort, high-certainty comforts. Safe now but costly tomorrow.
The Loss of Meaning & Purpose: When your “why” is unclear or disconnected, avoidance and poor choices become easier.
The Loss of Certainty: With too many unknowns, effort is expensive, so guaranteed relief (doom or cat-scrolling, “one more episode”) jumps to the front of the queue.
Comfort-seeking is predictable when you lack a clear why and a few guardrails.
It trades short-term ease for tomorrow’s capacity.
Choose capacity over comfort and notice the impact of your choices
This isn’t just a bedtime or food-related thing.
Comfort-seeking creeps in all day when we’re in autopilot mode.
A “quick” scroll between meetings, a couple of extra biscuits for a “boost,” tidying the inbox instead of sending the hard email, reorganising files before the draft, and so on.
Each micro-choice votes for immediate ease or future bandwidth.
To spot fake comfort instead of restorative capacity, ask: will this make the next hour easier or just the next minute?
If it only soothes the minute, it’s comfort. If it clears the hour, it’s capacity.
Reward-seeking behaviour isn’t just the hit. It’s about the aftertaste.
Add a quick body check to check if you liked what you chose.
If you’ve got a clearer head, looser shoulders, one obvious next step, this suggests true capacity.
If you feel drifty, guilty, or still avoidant, it suggests an unhelpful comfort loop.
Consider identity too. If a choice supports who you are and want to be, it builds capacity.
If it doesn’t, it’s stealing who you are without you noticing.
Do this: The Capacity Builder ARC loop
To break The Comfort-Seeker mode, we’re not chasing heroics or grand gestures.
We’re making tiny choices towards capacity instead of costly comfort.
Here’s a practice to run this week if you’ve suspected this pattern:
Awareness:
Notice the unhelpful urge.
Name the hook: It might be the “two minutes and I’ll feel better,” or “it’ll be fine if I do one more thing, as I’ll make it up tomorrow” stories.
Do a quick body check: tension in your shoulders, chest, or jaw. Has your breath become shallow or faster? Rate the urge intensity from 0 - 10.
Ask: Will this make the next hour easier or just the next minute? If it only soothes the next minute, label it a comfort loop.
Nothing’s wrong with you but your brain is picking certainty and respite in the moment.
Reconnection:
Connect to what actually matters.
Create your one-line why to help choose a different action: “Protect tomorrow’s brain,” or “Publish today to keep my 100-week quiet goal.”
Set a Minimum Viable Rep for your alternative action: 10 minutes ugly draft, phone on airplane mode, biscuits in a cupboard out of sight.
Sit with the discomfort: breathe through the urge and replay your why and how this supports it.
Restlessness is OK. You’ve survived it before so let it sit next to you but don’t give it full control.
Containment:
Complete an alternative action.
Add one friction to the urge, remove one from the Rep. Put the TV remote in a drawer, charge the phone in another room, open your doc at the exact line you’ll start.
Time-box the Rep. Set an 8–10 minute timer and do the Minimum Viable Rep you chose (e.g. create ugly draft, send one message, make one decision, brush teeth and walk to bed). When the timer ends, take a real 2–3 minute break to do nothing (e.g. stand in place, breathe deeply, look out of the window).
Log the impact and how you feel. Tick it off (paper tally or digital notes) and notice the aftertaste in your body – steadier or foggier?
If there’s fuel left, do one more short Rep; if not, stop while you’re ahead. At night, kill autoplay and lights out at your set time.
You’re retraining your prediction system, so the first useful step becomes the easiest step, and the comfort loop is more hassle than it’s worth.
A touch of friction to the comfort or numbing loop plus a pre-loaded start beats willpower.
This week's permission slip
You don’t have to beat yourself up for wanting to feel better, especially when you’re stressed, tired, and wired.
But do hold yourself accountable when comfort-seeking starts costing you.
Leave judgement at the door and notice how stress has skewed your focus towards unhelpful habits.
These can be undone.
Here's an extract for The Comfort-Seeker from Eternity by William Blake:
He who binds to himself a joy
Doth the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sunrise.William Blake
Enjoy your moment of comfort if it truly nourishes and restores you.
Then let it go and choose the step or rest that gives future-you back some much-needed bandwidth.
Key takeaways
Comfort can refill you or quietly drain tomorrow’s tank so judge choices by their aftertaste, not the urge.
Under stress and exhaustion, the brain over-weights near-certain, low-effort options, so easy clicks get reinforced and real recovery is delayed.
When you’re ditching sleep, a dependable capacity builder, for short hits of relief or false “me time,” pay attention.
Hidden losses like shaky stability, unclear meaning and rising uncertainty shift you towards comfort-seeking unless you add guardrails.
Notice the urge, reconnect with a one-line why, and replace with a short action or rep that’ll restore not drain you.
You don’t need willpower, but to create the conditions where the healthiest choice is the easiest one.
P.S. Which comfort-seeking habits trip you up and how do you resist or choose something else?
Bingeing on Netflix is so easy to do isn't it. When a friend of mine was widowed, she spent the next few years watching DVD box sets to calm herself (it was before Netflix) and escape the pain.
It's OK to self-medicate with the tv when you really need it, but if it goes on too long it can stop us from actually living.