What happens when your well runs dry? I am exhausted not because I am not really sleeping consistently but at my core. I have nothing left to give. I keep hearing the lyrics, “Slipping in my faith until I fall”. Well I have fallen and I am unsure I even have the ability to pick myself up again, not even sure I want to.
Being strong is a blessing and a curse add to that the foundation of empathy and compassion. I try to be there for others because I know the pain of having no one, That pain can be confounded when you are surrounded by people you cannot let in. For years I thought I could not allow others in because they would know my secret, see my personal disaster, keeping everyone at arms length required effort for a bit. I have three friends that have been around for decades and they really didn’t even know my life. I have come to understand from the other side of this that we only know people as well as they want us to. For their own personal reasons some I too still face, issues with trust and intimacy, their own private struggles, fear of judgement; people only let us in as much as they choose to share. I understand the pain of living with this isolation, I did that for too long in my life.
That is why I always try to be there for others because I know the pain of being alone. Being strong means I have navigated most of my life with independence, asking nothing of others. Being strong means people seldom ask how you are doing or if you need anything, seldom ask if you are alright. In times of strife I have found it helps me persevere by focusing on others, humility, empathy and compassion have been my best support in struggles. The most precious of gifts are time, energy, and empathy yet what happens when those are gone, replaced with weariness and emotional fatigue?
It feels as if my well has run dry, there is nothing left to offer the world. I am consumed as of late with anxiety, worry and tears. I have given up things, my workload is essentially removed, I left my PhD program, I have reverted to bare bones and simplicity but I am still unable to refill my reserves. I am tired of fighting to stand upright. I used to believe I am a tough old cat, I will always land on my feet yet I an no longer sure. Maybe it is not that I cannot pick myself up, maybe it is time to give in. Maybe it is time to not pick myself up. Maybe it is time to stop working so hard for my life; it is time to lay down my armor and walk away from such a long battle. .
“In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” -NIETZSCHE