Exhausted

I'm tired.

2024 has been a long year.

2023 was rough too.

2022... 2021...

I could go back as far as high school.

I'll just stick to this year:

January to May - I juggled two part time jobs somehow without my own car.

I've had physical ailments since the previous fall: head aches, body aches, general fatigue.

I've had suicidal thoughts, anywhere from 100 to 1,000 every single day.

I've wanted to push familiar people away. I've fought those thoughts too.

I've made new friends.

I've had individual therapy about every single week. Done the homework for that.

I've had many other doctor appointments to try and figure out my malaise, only for it to be explained by a resurgence of my depression.

In May, I spent a week in the mental hospital. I got on new medications.

I did 6 weeks of TMS treatment. I've kept my job despite feeling like I'm failing at it. I've kept lifting those heavy bags and giving that customer service smile each week.

In July, I stepped way outside my comfort zone and walked alongside high schoolers in New Orleans as they explored the question: "What does it mean as a Lutheran to serve others?"

In August, I fought to be able to begin classes at UC Blue Ash. I jumped through all the hoops, made many follow up phone calls and appointments.

The last month, I've been finding my rhythm as I juggle 24 hours of coursework, 24 hours of work, still TMS and therapy once a week, walking my dog, and hanging out with new friends. It's a lot. It's a lot for anyone, but especially for someone who has been moving agonizingly slow for the last few years.

Each week, each day, I keep showing up for myself. With my health in a precarious balance, I prioritize my PLEASE skills. I make sure to sleep 8hrs a night. I take my meds. I avoid extra caffeine. I make sure to eat throughout the day. I drink two large water bottles a day. I walk my dog. I spend time decompressing via watching tv shows and scrolling instagram.

And yet, despite all this action (following through with tasks of daily living and life worth living goals), my brain yells at me to slow down. What am I missing?

Am I putting my worth, my value, in who I am becoming?

Am I living against my values by not having time to see and help those I care for?

Do I simply not feel a sense of reward after accomplishing each of these tasks? I cognitively feel a "yay", but my heart knows another five items follow every one that is crossed off. I feel more connected with others than ever. I feel more inline with my goals than ever. What am I missing?

I'm tired. I am. I'm tired of having to prove to myself that I am worth living. 100 times before noon my brain will send a pop up message"You should kill yourself." 100 times I have to reply "Gosh, geez. What if I forgot? That would be terrible. Thanks for reminding me, brain."

I so badly want to be able to show up to work and do it with mental ease. My brain screams in protest. Remember when I tried to quit in January to work on my book? I can't quit. I need the money for tuition reimbursement. I have some bills to pay.

I'm not happy. What's missing is the time to be able to spend my health on writing my book. That is where my heart goes each day. When my heart isn't in my chest at work or school, of course my brain screams "You're dying!".

I'm not sure how to solve this. All I know is I'm tired, SO TIRED, of being tired. Of putting in the effort to be functioning with the ease that mentally healthy people do. I'm tired of having to justify going to the doctor when my body won't stop hurting. I'm tired of justifying to other Christians that my sexuality isn't a sin. I'm tired of justifying to other Christians the validity of my faith. I'm tired of not being able to talk to God for fear my painful existence is a "just consequence" of my other"chosen identity". I'm tired of crying out to God "please kill me" as I go to bed, even when I have good days. I'm tired of holding on, seemingly by myself 99% of the time. Do I need help? Do I deserve help? I'm tired of asking for help. I'm tired of needing help.

I was going to write an email to my therapist, and this will have to do.