Letters to the moon🌙

  I’m Not Sad, I’m Just Tired of Everything There’s a tired that grief fits into — heavy, loud, full of salt. And then there’s another tired, quieter and wider, the kind that sits beneath everything and makes even small things feel enormous. It’s not sadness exactly. It’s a slow erosion: of patience, of interest, of the energy required to be a person the world recognizes. People ask if I’m okay, and I find myself answering with the easiest lie: “I’m fine.” Because it’s shameful to say, I don’t have the strength to feel much of anything right now. It sounds weak. It sounds melodramatic. So I tuck the truth away and move through the day like someone wearing a coat too heavy for summer: awkward, sweating, trying not to think about the weight. The Difference Between Sad and Exhausted Sadness sits like a storm cloud — defined, visible, and full of thunder. You can name it. You can point to a loss or a moment and say, that is why. Exhaustion is less dramatic. It’s a fog that makes the mi...