The tiredness that comes with depression and anxiety can be soul crushing – it seeps into my bones making them feel sore and stiff, it flows through my veins turning my blood into cement, and it soaks into my muscles causing them to ache. It is more than sleep can cure, indeed, there is no amount of rest that can make this exhaustion ease – it sits there, inside of me, draining the life from me.
I am so tired at the moment – there are so many things I need to be doing, things for my family, things for my doctors, things for me. One of the key things I should be doing is exercising, for my fitness, and for my mental health, but the exhaustion I am feeling makes it near impossible – if not impossible, improbably at the very least. My energy is going into breathing for now, hopefully in a day or two my emotional health will improve and the cloying fatigue will ease along with it.
I can feel intense disappointment for allowing myself to feel depressed again, for not pushing through – the tiredness steals my desire to be more, to do more, to succeed. The exhaustion makes me feel so useless and helpless, I start to question why I keep trying to pull myself up and out of the pit.
At least these days though I can rationally remind myself that the depression is a temporary relapse, I know I’ve come too far and am too stuborn and determined to succeed for it to take over my life. But none the less my brain is misfiring and I do find myself questioning the sanity of the continual struggle – however I will keep going because that is what you have to do.
“Recovery is not linear”, I repeat to myself in answer to the little voice inside my mind that is telling me that I’m a lost cause.