“The soul has its own seasons.” -Albert Camus

My Interpretation: Exhaustion is rarely about sleep. It is about carrying too much for too long, through emotional winters no one else sees. Some seasons drain you even when you are standing still.

---

WHEN I SAY, “I AM TIRED,”

I DO NOT JUST MEAN SLEEP

There is a specific kind of tired

that sleep does not fix.

The kind where you wake up

& still feel like someone unplugged you overnight.

The kind where your bones feel heavy

& your mind feels slower

& your heart feels bruised

for reasons you cannot articulate

without sounding dramatic.

It is not physical exhaustion.

It is emotional erosion.

The slow wearing-down

of constantly being the one who holds

everything

together

in every room you enter.

---

THIS TIRED STARTS IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM

It is not about how much rest I get.

It is about how much I carry

even when I am resting.

It is the weight of old memories

that show up uninvited.

The pressure of being the stable one

for people who have no idea

how much it costs me.

It is living on high alert

even when nothing is happening

because “nothing happening”

was never a safe sign when I was younger.

My body learned to stay ready

even when I want it to relax.

This tired

is a relic of survival.

---

THE MIDDLE OF IT IS WHERE I DRIFTED

This is the exhaustion

that comes from trying to be okay

for too many people

for too many years.

The exhaustion of being the first one to step up,

the last one to break down,

the one who keeps moving

even when she has not had a moment

to sit with herself.

There is a loneliness in that role

no one talks about.

You become the reliable one

the stable one

the adultiest adult in the entire room

& somehow

you are also the one no one checks in on.

Not because they do not care.

Because they are used to you being the one

who does not crumble.

But people do not realize

that being strong for too long

is its own kind of wound.

This is the part that tired me

in ways nothing else did.

---

MY TIRED IS NOT A LACK OF SLEEP

It is a winter.

A long, quiet, internal winter

that settles into places

I cannot reach with blankets or rest.

Some days the ground inside me freezes.

Some days it thaws.

Some days it storms

even when the sky outside is clear.

This season is not depression.

It is not burnout.

It is not a collapse.

It is the slow recalibration

that happens when you have spent years

running on empty

& your soul is finally saying

“I need a minute.”

---

WHEN I SAY, “I AM TIRED,” THIS IS WHAT I MEAN

I am tired of being the strong one.

I am tired of being the stable one.

I am tired of being the one who adjusts

so other people do not have to.

I am tired of bracing for emotions

that do not belong to me.

Of carrying childhood patterns

in an adult body

that knows better

but has not unlearned the instinct yet.

I am tired in the way

you are tired when you have been holding a door open

for too long –

for people who do not notice

you are the one holding the weight.

I am not tired of life.

I am tired of the load.

There is a difference.

---

THE HEAD-TILT TRUTH

People tilt their heads

when you say you are tired

& cannot explain why.

Let them tilt.

They do not understand this kind of exhaustion –

the emotional kind

the survival kind

the “I have been running on courage instead of energy” kind

the kind that happens when you have had to be strong

for too long without backup.

You are not weak.

You are not dramatic.

You are not failing.

You are just in a season

your body is finally acknowledging

instead of ignoring.

Winter is not forever.

But it is real.

& naming it

is the first warm day.

Xoxo ♡