Tired of being fucking tired

Tired of looking in the mirror in the morning and wondering… what today?

Tired of the constant yeses and nos. Yes to things that don’t really satisfy me. No to things that could possibly change my life.

I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. Of explaining myself, of trying to make people understand where I’m coming from. My current situation, my health—mental, spiritual, physical, fuck knows what else.

I’m so fucking tired of trying to make myself visible enough to be seen.

Of trying to fit where I don’t belong. Of doing jobs that give me no satisfaction but enough money to survive.

Tired of people laughing when it isn’t the time or place. Of people shoving their ideas of how I’m supposed to live down my throat, then watching me get more sick.

Tired of watching leaves fall freely to the ground while I’m desperately holding on to the stem.

And then I wonder… why is it so difficult to let go and see what’s on the other side? How do I know that free fall will take me down to the ground? Maybe I’ll be carried up into the sky to see things from a new perspective.

Perhaps floating down to the ground isn’t such a bad thing either.

Sometimes, reaching the ground is necessary to find stillness and release whatever needs to go. Sometimes, only when my body feels held can I finally let go of the old drama that keeps me from seeing those glimpses of light. Feel the ground beneath me. Feel safe, alive and wanted in this world.

And I’m tired of being fucking tired.

Maybe it’s my hormones. Or maybe they’re just doing their thing while all I want is to rest—or go up that hill—but I seem to have lost the willpower for everything.

And maybe, just maybe, the hill would feel less steep with someone supportive beside me. Someone whose physical presence offers the comfort of being held. Someone accompanying me on my personal journey.

Someone who acknowledges my emotions simply by being there. Listening without giving advice or judging. Someone who isn’t afraid to share the silence.

I’m so fucking tired of going to bed thinking about what I have to do the next day. Of wondering what it would feel like to fall asleep without feeling anxious and stressed.

Tired of the same old narrative shaping my everyday experience. Of that familiar feeling in my stomach that something isn’t quite right, without knowing exactly what.

..................................................................................................

A collection of experiences—my own and those of people who have worked with me.

We all suffer sometimes. It might be grief that feels hard to digest, or a sense of feeling stuck and lost.

If any of this resonates, you know where to find me. In my work with you, I want you to know that you are not alone in this. We all go through stages in life when we need someone in front of us to simply listen.