I’m tired of resting in bed when I want to do other things.
I’m tired of crashing at least once a week.
I’m tired of my kids seeing me cry.
I’m tired of not knowing what happens next.
I’m tired of saying no.
I’m tired of making decisions.
I’m tired of appointments.
I’m tired of just getting by.
I’m tired of feeling like a shitty mom and partner.
I’m tired of waiting for treatments and medications to work.
I’m tired of thinking my family is better without me.
I’m tired of medication changes.
I’m tired of my terrible memory.
I’m tired of the headaches.
I’m tired from gaining weight and feeling uncomfortable in clothes.
I’m tired of how expensive it is to keep me healthy.
I’m tired of distanced learning.
I’m tired of COVID.
I’m tired of feeling worthless.
I’m tired of the stigma.
I’m tired of the shame.
I’m tired of the fatigue.
I. AM. SO. TIRED.
Ugh, I know this tiredness. It’s awful, overwhelming. I just want you to know, however, that even though it SEEMS endless, it’s not. Things do change. I thought I’d be depressed forever. It took a long, long time to change, but I am a lot better now. Not perfect all the time, but nothing like those months on end of being exhausted all the time, of never feeling like doing anything. I believe you can have a different life too—I genuinely think that if I can get better, others can too. Wishing you the best, Q.
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