I’m Tired, But I’m Trying

Currently, I am mentally drained and emotionally lost. It's that type of tiredness you don't shake off with rest or sleep alone. It's a weighty feeling, as if one has a burden inside no one else can perceive but have to deal with daily. I've given so many chances to people who did not deserve them. I kept hoping there was something good about everyone, hoping they would see my effort, my concern. But truthfully, sometimes there just isn't any goodness left to be found. And that hurts a lot. Letting go is supposed to make things easier. But it still hurts, maybe even more than holding on. Holding on means you’re stuck in the same pain, but letting go means you have to face that pain without anything familiar to hold on to. I was the one to make the first call. When I was feeling down or broken, I called my friends. I thought that if I spoke enough words, someone would hear me and care. But calling ten and hearing nothing or no return call made me feel lonelier. It seemed I was the only one that was trying, the only one that loved. So now I don't reach out. It's not that I don't have friends, but I don't want to be repeatedly disappointed. One thing that still keeps me afloat is watching TV shows and films. They are my escape, my safe place. When everything else feels like too much, they are always there—steady and predictable. Unlike people, they don’t leave me hanging or make me feel invisible. What I really want is simple but rare—I want people to be there because they want to be, not because I begged or kept reminding them. I want someone who stays without me having to chase them every time I feel lost or hurt. I want someone who looks for me when I go quiet, not just someone who answers when I call. It’s hard to admit all this. I’m tired, yes, but I’m still here. I’m still trying. Trying to get through each day, trying to hold myself together even when it feels impossible. Maybe nobody notices. Maybe nobody cares. But this tiredness and this trying—it means something. It means I’m still fighting, still hoping, still alive. And sometimes, just that is enough.

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