When you’re tired but not just physically

There’s a kind of tired that lives beneath the skin- not in your bones,

But in the spaces between your thoughts.

It’s the ache of always being “on,”

of smiling when you’re not even sure what that means anymore.

It’s waking up with the weight you went to sleep with,

carried like a shadow

that no sunrise seems to lift.

It’s not the kind of tired that a nap will cure.

It’s the kind that asks for stillness,

for softness,

for something deeper than sleep-

a kind of surrender you rarely allow yourself to feel.

You move through the day

with a heart too full and a spirit too quiet.

Everything asks for your energy,

but nothing seems to give it back.

And so you grow silent,

not because you have nothing to say,

but because your soul is tired of speaking

into a world that only listens to noise.

This kind of tired wears many names:

burnout, grief, loneliness, pressure,

the slow erosion of joy.

But sometimes, it’s just the cost of holding too

much-

for too long-

without ever sitting it down.

So maybe, just maybe,

you don’t need to do more.

You don’t need to be more.

You need to be still.

To breathe.

To weep, maybe.

To fall apart for a while-

without shame.

And in the quiet unraveling,

you might just find

the beginning of coming back to yourself.

If this feels like you right now, you’re not alone. Let this be your reminder: it’s okay to pause. To be tired. To stop carrying everything. Sometimes, your healing begins the moment you let it.