There is a kind of weariness that can be difficult to explain.
You wake up in the morning and, before your feet even touch the floor, the thought arrives:
Oh my God. I’m awake. Again.
Not necessarily because you want to die.
You may love people deeply. You may have things you’re looking forward to. You may laugh later that same day. You may genuinely want to be here.
You’re just so tired of doing this.
- Another day in a body that hurts.
- Another migraine.
- Another appointment.
- Another bill.
Another day of grief, uncertainty, caregiving, loneliness, depression, or whatever version of Groundhog Day you seem to have found yourself living.
Sometimes the thought isn’t I want my life to end.
It’s: I need this to stop.
I’ve known that kind of weariness. I’ve also heard versions of it from people I love who are living with their own illnesses and difficult seasons.
And during Suicide Prevention Month, I think we need to make room to talk about it.
Not because every exhausted thought is a crisis. But because people shouldn’t have to wait until they’re in crisis before they are allowed to say:
I’m having a really hard time being here right now.
You Don’t Have to Make It Sound Better
Maybe today you don’t need someone to tell you to be grateful.
Maybe you don’t need another morning routine, mindset shift, supplement, journal prompt, breathing technique, podcast, or plan for becoming a more resilient version of yourself.
Maybe you’re tired.
- You are allowed to be tired.
- You are allowed to be angry that something is hard.
- You are allowed to grieve the version of your life you thought you would have.
- You are allowed to have moments when acceptance feels peaceful and moments when acceptance feels impossible.
None of those things make you ungrateful. None of them make you weak.
And none of them make you less worthy of love.
Sometimes we rush toward encouragement because we desperately want the people we love to feel better.
It’s going to be okay. Stay positive. Everything happens for a reason. Look how strong you are.
Those words can come from genuine love. But sometimes what we need isn’t someone trying to pull us out of the feeling.
Sometimes we need someone willing to sit beside us in it.
I believe you. That sounds exhausting.
You don’t have to make it sound better for me. I’m here.
You Are Not a Problem to Solve
One of the things I’ve been learning in my own life is the difference between responsibility and blame.
- Blame says: This is happening because I did something wrong.
- Shame says: I should be handling this better.
- Responsibility can be much gentler: This is what is happening. What do I need right now?
Acceptance doesn’t mean deciding that what happened to you was fair.
- It doesn’t mean liking your illness.
- It doesn’t mean being grateful for your pain.
- It doesn’t mean giving up on treatment, change, hope, or a different future.
Sometimes acceptance is simply allowing today’s reality to be today’s reality without adding a second layer of punishment because you wish you were handling it differently.
- You don’t have to turn your suffering into a lesson today.
- You don’t have to find its purpose.
- You don’t have to become inspirational because something difficult happened to you.
- You are allowed to simply be a person going through something hard.
When Forever Feels Too Heavy
One of the cruel things about prolonged pain or emotional exhaustion is how easily today starts masquerading as forever.
Tomorrow looks like today. Next month looks like today. Next year looks like today.
And suddenly your mind is asking you to carry an entire imagined lifetime of something you’re barely able to carry this morning.
You don’t have to.
- You don’t have to solve the rest of your life from bed.
- You don’t need to know how you’ll manage next month.
- You don’t even have to feel hopeful right now.
Sometimes someone else can hold hope for you until you’re able to hold it again.
So if you can’t believe this today, borrow it from me: This moment will move.
Maybe slowly. Maybe imperfectly. Maybe not on the timeline you desperately wish it would.
But you have lived through days that changed before.
This one can change, too.
Until then, let’s make the world very small.
This breath.
This glass of water.
This soft blanket.
This text to someone safe.
This hour.
This moment.
That’s enough.
If You’re Searching for Meaning
There have been times when practical answers weren’t the only thing I needed. I wanted ‘meaning’.
Someone I love gave me Your Soul’s Plan by Robert Schwartz, a book that explores suffering and difficult life experiences through a spiritual and metaphysical lens. I’ve since shared it with a few friends when they were hurting, too.
I want to be very clear about why I’m mentioning it here.
I don’t believe a spiritual idea should ever be used to blame someone for their illness, trauma, grief, or suffering. And I don’t share this book as an explanation for why something painful happened to you.
Its perspective won’t resonate with everyone. That’s okay.
For me, it offered another way to sit with some of the questions that don’t have easy answers.
If that kind of exploration feels comforting to you, it may be something you’d like to read.
If it doesn’t, leave it here.
You don’t need to find meaning in your suffering in order for your suffering to matter.
And If “I’m Tired” Has Become Something More
There is a difference between feeling profoundly weary and being in immediate danger of hurting yourself.
But the line isn’t something you need to navigate alone.
If your thoughts have shifted toward wanting to die, thinking about how you might hurt yourself, feeling that people would be better without you, or wondering whether you can keep yourself safe, please tell someone.
You do not need to wait until it gets worse.
Reach for a friend. A partner. A therapist. A doctor. A crisis counselor. Someone who can be with you in the moment and help carry what feels too heavy to carry alone.
In the United States, you can call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. If you are in immediate danger, call 911 or go to your nearest emergency department.
* MEDICAL DISCLAIMER: This article is a personal reflection and is not a substitute for medical or mental health care. If you’re struggling with persistent thoughts about death, suicide, or self-harm, please seek support from a qualified health professional or crisis service.
Before You Go
If today is one of those mornings when waking up feels heavier than it should, I’m not going to ask you to turn it into a good day.
I’m not going to tell you to find the silver lining. I’m not going to give you homework.
I just want you to know:
- You are allowed to be weary.
- You are worthy of care before you feel better.
- You are worthy of love when you’re struggling.
- You don’t have to earn your place here by being productive, positive, healed, or inspiring.
And you don’t have to figure out the rest of your life today.
This moment is not forever. This too shall pass.
Until it does, please stay.
Let someone sit beside you.
Let someone love you here.
