Tired

I'm going to be raw for a minute.

Man, I'm tired.

But it's not a tired that sleep can fix.

We've likely all felt it at some point.

It's that tiredness where everything from your heart to soul to your body is spent.

The kind where when you sit down, you have to think hard about finding a reason to get back up.

Where you think to yourself, "How much more can really be thrown at me? Haven't I done or been through enough?"

And then you regret asking that because life has proven to you that there is always more it can throw at you. And if it does, you wonder if that's the one that'll break you.

If that is the one where you just say, "fuck it."

But we find a reason. We find the most minor thing we can grab onto and then find something bigger, and on and on.

We keep fighting and pushing and fighting. But damn, it's exhausting.

We find all the reasons to not fight. Failure, depression, loss, not measuring up. And I could go on. But we keep pushing.

In the Jacob Lee song Don't Forget Me, there's a line that says, "I don't wanna be sad, but I don't believe I've ever been happy."

I know I've been happy, but at times like this, it's such a distant memory I wonder if it was real.

Then there's the kick in the gut that comes when we get a break from our headspace and realize that we're impacting those who care about us.

We can get lost in how to get the message out.

So, for me, I revert to writing because it has yet to fail me in finding the words to say in written form that I can't say out loud.

I can swear up and down that I'm doing all I can, but I also know that it's not what I need to be doing, and it's not enough. Those in my life deserve more from me.

But here I am, so trapped in the hell of my own crap that I'm having trouble focusing on those I should be.

Do we share it? Will anyone care? Will they care too much? Are we worth it if they do?

And we move closer to that "fuck it" point. But still, the closer we move, the more we fight.

The cycle is exhausting.

But the pain is real and oh so familiar. So we wonder, is this our reality, or are those fleeting moments of joy the reality.

If it's what we are most familiar with, then it's the pain, but something inside us at these moments reminds us that it isn't what our reality should be.

So we fight.

I'm not alone in this feeling, and my hope in sharing this is to communicate it to others and to remind us that we aren't alone.

We will get through.

Head up, shoulders back, march on.

The reason and purpose are there; they'll find their way to us.

Please don't quit the fight, no matter how tempting it is.

Peace and rest for our souls will come.

I have to believe that, and I hope you do as well.