There’s a particular kind of tired that doesn’t show up until you’re finally safe enough to feel it.
I’ve been thinking about how I held myself together for so long, so convincingly, that when I finally stopped, relief never came. Instead, I felt like I was falling apart—as if everything I’d been carrying suddenly became too heavy, and my body, without warning, set it all down.
After all that, I had to stand there and look at it.
Subscribe to continue reading
Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.
