In the bustling heart of Jakarta, where the grind of daily life often feels relentless, a quiet rebellion is taking shape—one that unfolds under the covers. Dubbed “bed rotting” by internet culture, this trend of spending extended periods in bed engaging in non-sleep activities like scrolling through social media or binge-watching shows has sparked both intrigue and criticism. For some, it’s a sign of laziness or mental health struggles; for others, it’s a necessary act of self-care in a world that demands constant productivity. But beyond the memes and TikTok hashtags, could this phenomenon reveal a deeper societal issue?
The Personal Struggle with Rest
For many young Indonesians, the concept of rest carries a heavy stigma. Growing up, taking a midday nap or lingering in bed could invite judgment or accusations of idleness. This cultural backdrop makes the act of staying in bed, intentionally or not, feel like a small act of defiance. One Jakarta resident, reflecting on her own habits, recalls feeling personally challenged by Ottessa Moshfegh’s novel My Year of Rest and Relaxation. The book’s protagonist, who rarely leaves her apartment, mirrored her own tendency to spend weekends in bed—though she insists her life is far more balanced, with regular exercise, family connections, and financial stability.
Yet, the term bed rotting struck a chord. Defined by Urban Dictionary as spending long hours in bed on non-sleep activities, it encapsulates a behavior that many, particularly in urban centers like Jakarta, can relate to. It’s not just about physical rest; it’s about carving out a space to unplug from the demands of a hyper-connected, productivity-driven society. 
Reclaiming Rest as Resistance
In South Jakarta, Citra, a successful professional in her 30s, embodies this tension. Leading a team of over ten people, she’s perpetually on call, juggling meetings and responsibilities. By the time the weekend arrives, she’s physically drained. “On weekends, I physically cannot emerge from bed” she admits over a cup of tea. For her, sleeping 15 to 20 hours a day isn’t indulgence—it’s survival. It’s the fuel that keeps her career on track.
Citra’s story also reveals a deeper layer of cultural conditioning. Raised in a crowded household with extended family, privacy was a luxury, and rest was often seen as laziness, especially for women burdened with domestic expectations. Moving out to attend college in Yogyakarta gave her a taste of freedom, allowing her to reclaim sleep as a right rather than a privilege. Now, her weekends are split between long slumbers and low-effort activities like binge-watching—all from the comfort of her bed. By Sunday evening, she shifts into preparation mode for the week ahead, a routine that balances her demanding life.
A Bed-Centered Lifestyle
For others, bed rotting isn’t just a weekend reset—it’s a deliberate lifestyle choice. Ayu, a freelancer in her late 20s living in North Cipete, has built her life around her bed. Her small studio apartment is dominated by a large bed facing a 55-inch TV, serving as both her office and sanctuary. Working remotely in fields like copywriting and social media, she earns in US dollars and enjoys flexible hours. “If I push through weekends, I burn out” she explains, emphasizing the need for downtime to sustain her productivity.
Ayu’s journey reflects a shift accelerated by the COVID-19 pandemic, which introduced her to the possibility of working from bed. Having tried the traditional corporate path—commuting to an office in Kuningan—she found it draining and incompatible with her needs. Now, her bed is where she works, eats, and socializes with her boyfriend and friends. Aware of the health risks of prolonged inactivity, she recently invested in a walking pad and running shoes, determined to balance her indoor lifestyle with movement. “This bed is my cocoon. It’s where I know peace” she says.
Expert Caution Amid Personal Solutions
While personal stories like Citra’s and Ayu’s frame bed rotting as a pragmatic response to societal pressures, not all perspectives are so forgiving. Lia Sutisna Latif, a psychologist at the International Wellbeing Center in Jakarta, warns of the potential downsides. “The bed should be where we turn off” she advises, noting that using it for activities like scrolling or snacking can disrupt sleep patterns and lead to insomnia.
Lia also highlights mental health risks, particularly when bed rotting becomes a form of escapism. Prolonged inactivity, especially when paired with digital overstimulation, can exacerbate anxiety or depression. “The longer someone stares at a screen in a relaxing place, the less productive they become” she cautions. Her recommendation is clear: set boundaries, disconnect from devices, and reserve the bed for genuine rest, not distractions.
A Symptom of a Larger Issue
These contrasting views—personal empowerment versus professional caution—point to a broader societal tension. In Jakarta, where long commutes, cramped public transport, and relentless work culture are the norm, the allure of staying in bed is understandable. The city’s infrastructure often leaves commuters exhausted, nodding off on buses or trains, dreaming of hours they could reclaim if only the system were more humane.
Bed rotting, then, isn’t merely a quirky habit or a passing TikTok trend. It’s a symptom of a society that equates worth with output, leaving little room for stillness. For young women like Citra and Ayu, who navigate both professional ambitions and cultural expectations, retreating to bed isn’t avoidance—it’s preservation. It’s a way to cope with a world that demands too much, too often.
As this trend continues to divide opinions, one question lingers: Will society rethink its obsession with productivity, or will the bed remain the only refuge for those seeking respite?
