exhaustion

www. Wednesday

It’s back, it’s back! Link party below:

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+ Can I get an amen on this EliteDaily article about how you assholes keep calling us crazy, but really, you’re just dicks? K, thx.

+ You have to be deaf if you don’t like Ariana Grande. Proof in the Whitney Houston-cover pudding found HERE.

+ Because I’ve been sick (read: FATIGUED!) for so long, here’s a Buzzfeed article of all my eternally exhausted faces……. as told through DOG PHOTOS!

+ This perfectly describes how people who don’t vaccinate themselves or children sound to me… brava, Girl Pants!

+ i-D magazine compiled a perf vid of slang terms you need to know. You may think you’re above slang, but all us teachers will tell you: YA NEED. TA KNOW!

+ Since I’m in a slump right now, I figured we could all use this kid-approved list of 22 acts of kindness we can all easily pull off.

+ Also, if you’re feeling slump-ish, let’s all read Amazon’s 100 must-read books to escape, eh?

+ Realizing late in life I’m probably in this slump because I fall under 95% of these 11 traits of an Indigo child

+ A simple, yet comprehensive, list of traits all of us should have in a partner!

+ Overall, I think Iggy Azaela is problematic, but I think it she would focus more of her time acting like this–open and honest about plastic surgery aka WHY DON’T ALL CELEBS DO THIS?!–she could gain some respect and maybe start forging her own (non-problematic) path.

 

Fast Track to Nowhere

I’ve been feeling all over the place lately, but the truth is, I haven’t really done much of anything. Sure, I have a high-pressure job with a never-ending workload, but I still feel stagnant because I come home completely drained.

I lie in my bed and rest my aching bones.

Sometimes I do more work.

Sometimes I fall asleep.

Sometimes I watch TV for hours as a method to tune out rehashing the storm of the day (plus TV is just my fave).

Sometimes my sweet boo-thang can drag me from the house for a dinner or errands.

Sometimes I can drag myself if it involves retail therapy or necessity.

But all of the time, I feel less than. I feel like that weird, floating, empty plastic bag from American Beauty, minus the beauty aspect.

Some of this comes from my mental health issues, but most of it stems from external situations, split right down the middle over whether I’m at the helm or not. The ones I don’t control discourage me from even trying to step up to the ones I do. It’s a vicious cycle compounded by permeating fatigue. And all the excuses I’ve made for that fatigue are just not realistic anymore.

I’ve gotten help for my weariness-inducing depression. I’ve exercised a lot and not at all. I’ve eaten right, and I’ve eaten wrong. I have slept for hours or barely at all. None of it ultimately fixes the debilitating weight of gravity I feel all. day. long. None of it takes away the pain or heartache it brings. None of it is normal.

So I think it’s time I call in the professionals. I need to let go of the idea that I can fix this fatigue alone, that this is one of the external scenarios that falls in my commanding ranks. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain with copious water, more veggies, lots of dancing, continuing my meds, and jerking back the damn wheel on the half of the outside stimuli I do hold command over, but a lady needs some help.

And it’s going to suck. I am going to get worse before I get better. I am going to have to be experimented on, pay a lot of money to find answers, add more to my plate(s), and barrel through it all like some non-existent superhuman.

But in the end, I will be the bright-eyed woman with a trash can full of completed to-do’s and dreams, a life’s worth of goals attended to because someone out there (YOU DO EXIST, RIGHT, DOC?!) finally cared enough to find out what was stopping her little body from letting her.

Photo on 9-26-14 at 4.01 PM #2

Tired of Tired

I’m tired.

I’m tired of not appreciating enough the only job that will have me. I’m tired of not having money. I’m tired of working too hard to make the career I DO want for myself. I’m tired of being told “sometimes you have to do things in life you don’t want to do,” just to turn around and alternatively be told “life’s too short, so do what you love.” I’m tired of asking for help and not getting any. I’m tired of being told to ask for help after I’ve already asked. I’m tired of busting my ass to make an occupation I love and getting door after door slammed in my face. I’m tired of people telling me “you must not be working hard enough, then.”

I’m tired.

I’m tired of feeling anxious and worried all the time. I’m tired of explaining those things stem from illness. I’m tired of explaining that yes, mental illness is real. I’m tired of feeling sick all the time. I’m tired of doctors telling me I’m okay when I feel so distinctly un-okay. I’m tired of feeling fatigue on 3 or 8 or 10 hours of sleep. I’m tired of internally hating my sicknesses when I love my self and my body so much. I’m tired of being told to walk it off, work through it, get over it. I’m tired of searching for a solution and finding the same old lines fed to me by professionals who haven’t ever had their mind and body fighting against them. I’m tired of not getting to enjoy life because I’m bound by invisible chains of pain.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of being the last one. I’m tired of being a best friend, but not THE best friend. I’m tired of being alone and lonely, one or the other or both. I’m tired of waiting in the wings. I’m tired of putting myself out there too often, too far. I’m tired of having to go back into hiding. I’m tired of always caring, but never being cared for. I’m tired of missing people, even when some of those people are still right in front of me. I’m tired of calling, texting, emailing, chatting. I’m tired of letting all of it slide, letting everyone think it’s okay to put me last. I’m tired of being unsupported.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of knowing where I should be, yet not having the means to get there. I’m tired of knowing who and what makes me happy, yet unimportant realities get priority, get in the way when they shouldn’t. I’m tired of apologizing. I’m tired of trying to fit my round personality into a boring square hole. I’m tired of screaming. I’m tired of not fulfilling my potential in life for reasons I don’t understand, but reasons that nonetheless weigh so heavily on my shoulders every day.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of knowing I’m good enough and falling on my face every. single. time. I’m tired of being told to grow up, to stop caring, to get over it, to let go of my dreams. I’m tired of a lack of faith, of hope, of connection, of love. I’m tired of pleasing others who say they know what’s best for me. I’m tired of being told I’m not capable of knowing what is best for myself. I’m tired of standing up for myself. I’m tired of being anyone other than myself.

I’m tired of being tired.