Literally every time some one asks how I am, that’s what I say. It’s simple, accurate and vague. Normally that last part is intentional as I don’t have the spoons to explain *everything.*
For once I’d like to take the time to define it. My memory sucks, constant brain fog and dissociation. I’m always taking notes as my memory is untrustworthy. So for at least the current snapshot in time, this is what I mean when I say I’m tired.
I’m tired of being in pain.
If I am awake I am most likely in pain. It’s been with me as long as I can remember. It’s a mix of illnesses and injuries. I have hyper mobile joints, and my body is constantly cracking and popping. Everything from knuckles to ribs and hips. The last Rheumatologist I had diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, but my current doctor wants me to get tested for EDS.
On the injury front I’ve broken my foot, I’ve been in five car accidents (that i remember, maybe more?) and I’ve fallen off an ATV. That I don’t recommend. Especially on a gravel driveway. My spouse will confirm - I’m always asking for a back rub and my bones are making weird noises.
I’m tired of depression and anxiety.
I have diagnoses of Borderline Personality Disorder, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, ADHD, and there’s at least one other thing, but I’m going to hold off as it hasn’t been officially diagnosed. I’ve been in therapy on and off since I was a teenager, and more than my share of frequent flier miles with the grippy sock hotel and screamatorium. I won’t go into detail here but I have trauma from gun violence, and these almost daily mass shootings are amplifying my already heightened anxiety.
I’m tired of feeling like an imposter.
Am I Queer enough? Trans enough? Punk enough? Are my diagnoses mental and physical correct? Am I neurodiverse enough? Did i just trick people into thinking this is who I am?
I’m tired of having a target on my back.
I’m from a Jewish family, I’m in a same sex relationship and I’m trans. So it very much feels like half the country wants me (and people like me) disappeared or killed and, again, this only adds fuel to the bonfire that is my anxiety. As a Queer Jew(ish) person I’m aware that the Nazis started with Trans people and also, im only here writing this as my ancestors left Europe when then did. In the last month I’ve made sure my Life Insurance is paid, and up to date as well as my organ donor card. If something does happen to me, I at least want something good to come from it. This feels very real, and it’s absolutely terrifying.
I’m tired of being suicidal.
My baseline is passive suicidality. So for me one of my triggers to realise things are bad isn’t, “am I having suicidal thoughts today?” because I am everyday. My triggers have to be actively planning. And that’s dangerous as by the time you realise there is a problem you’re already in a crisis. Being on constant vigilance as you could be a danger to yourself at any point means you can’t ever fully relax. As I have a bad habit of self harming in a dissociative state this is an actual threat.
To be honest, it’s also a weird feeling suicidal while also having a real fear of being killed. Haven’t quite worked that one out yet…
I’m tired of not functioning.
I have a shitty memory. Im six months in at my job and I feel so behind and so stupid. By the time I’m home after work I’m so exhausted from trying to not fail at my job, while dealing with everything I wrote above going on at the same time. I come home and I put on comfy clothes, I get high (I have a prescription, and also shame - but that’s a different novel), I eat something, that requires low to minimal cooking, and I’m normally asleep before 10:00 pm.
I can’t remember the last time I had the energy to do laundry. The dishes only get done with any regularity as my spouse is a goddamn saint - but that isn’t fair to her. The point I’m trying to make is I’m spending all the energy I have on just existing, and that feels below the bare minimum. My depression absolutely loves when it can make me feel like a failure. And from the stack of dirty laundry on the floor, to unopened boxes from when we moved last year, to the pile of empty pill bottles that are sitting next to the bed - there is constant fuel for that fire.
I just want to be good enough. Good enough for the spouse who has taken care of me for almost a decade. Good enough for my friends. I love you, I wish I could do more. For my family, who while I love dearly I definitely feel like the black sheep of. I’m tired of feeling not good enough.
I just needed to get this out of my head. I won’t say I’m okay, cause I just re-read what I wrote (and yikes).
But I’m just tired.