There are levels of tired.
There's I stayed up too late watching something I absolutely could have turned off three episodes ago tired.
There's I haven't had coffee yet tired.
There's why was I awake at 3:17 a.m. thinking about something embarrassing I said in 2009? tired.
And then there's the kind I'm talking about.
Woman tired.
The kind where somebody asks you a completely reasonable question like, “What do you want for dinner?” and you genuinely consider changing your name and moving to another state.
I don't know.
I don't care.
I don't want to choose.
I don't want to cook it.
I don't want to order it.
I don't even particularly want to chew it.
Just put food near me and please don't make this another decision I have to make today.
It's not always sleep we're missing.
This is what people don't understand.
You can sleep eight hours and still wake up tired.
Because sometimes your body slept, but your brain has apparently been working the overnight shift.
We're thinking about our kids.
Our parents.
Work.
Money.
Appointments.
The house.
That weird noise the car is making.
The text we forgot to answer.
The thing we're supposed to order.
The thing we already ordered but can't remember where we put.
The appointment somebody needs.
The appointment we need but haven't made because apparently we're the only person whose appointments don't qualify as urgent.
And then someone gives you the groundbreaking advice:
“You should get some rest.”
Oh.
REST.
Why didn't I think of that?
I'll pencil it in between worrying about everybody I love and wondering why the dog is making that noise.
And can we talk about decision fatigue?
Because holy shit.
By the end of the day, I don't want to decide anything.
What do you want to eat?
Don't know.
What do you want to watch?
Don't care.
Should we go Saturday or Sunday?
You pick.
Do you like this one or that one?
I HAVE NO MORE OPINIONS AVAILABLE AT THIS TIME.
Women make a ridiculous number of tiny decisions all day long.
Some matter.
Most don't.
But apparently my brain doesn't distinguish between important financial decision and do we need more paper towels?
It all gets tossed into the same mental junk drawer.
Eventually the drawer won't close.
Then there's body tired.
This one deserves its own category.
Sometimes your brain is ready to go and your body says:
Absolutely not.
Chronic illness tired is different.
Pain tired is different.
Hormone tired is different.
The exhaustion that comes from your body constantly fighting with itself is different.
And one of the hardest parts is that you don't always look tired.
You showered.
You got dressed.
You did your hair.
Maybe you even put mascara on.
Congratulations.
Everyone now assumes you're functioning at full capacity.
Meanwhile your internal battery has been flashing 7% since breakfast.
And when you live with chronic illness—or love someone who does—you learn pretty quickly that looking okay and being okay are two completely different things.
But we're really good at pushing through.
Almost too good.
Women have made an entire lifestyle out of:
I'm fine.
We're tired?
Keep going.
Don't feel good?
Keep going.
Overwhelmed?
Keep going.
Someone else needs us?
Obviously, keep going.
We wear being able to handle everything like some kind of achievement.
Look how much I can carry.
And then we're surprised when eventually our bodies and brains go:
Yeah. We're done here.
Maybe the goal shouldn't be proving how much we can carry.
Maybe we could put some shit down.
There's a thought.
And please don't tell me to “practice self-care.”
I swear.
Because somehow self-care became another thing women are supposed to successfully accomplish.
Drink 80 ounces of water.
Exercise.
Meditate.
Journal.
Meal prep.
Take vitamins.
Get eight hours of sleep.
Read.
Stretch.
Practice gratitude.
Have boundaries.
Spend time with friends.
Have alone time.
Maintain your marriage.
Call your mother.
Do your skincare.
And apparently wake up at 5 a.m. so you can do all of this before everyone else wakes up.
I'm exhausted just reading that.
Sometimes self-care is not a bubble bath.
Sometimes it's:
No.
Sometimes it's leaving the laundry until tomorrow.
Sometimes it's cereal for dinner.
Sometimes it's not answering the text.
Sometimes it's sitting in your car in the driveway for ten minutes because nobody knows you're home yet.
Sometimes it's going to bed at 8:30.
Sometimes it's saying:
I can't do that today.
No inspirational quote required.
I think we need to stop earning rest.
That's the part I've been thinking about.
Why do we feel like we have to accomplish enough before we're allowed to stop?
I'll sit down after I finish this.
I'll relax when the kitchen is clean.
I'll take a day off when I get caught up.
I'll do something for myself when everybody else is okay.
Except…
when exactly is everybody going to be okay at the same time?
And when exactly are we going to be completely caught up?
Because I've been waiting.
Doesn't seem promising.
There will always be another load of laundry.
Another email.
Another appointment.
Another problem.
Another person who needs something.
Rest can't only happen when everything else is finished.
Because everything else is never finished.
So… yes. I'm tired.
Maybe you are too.
Not lazy.
Not unmotivated.
Not ungrateful.
Just really fucking tired.
There. I said it.
Sorry, Mom.
And maybe instead of immediately trying to fix that feeling, we can acknowledge it.
Maybe today doesn't need to be productive.
Maybe dinner can be whatever you find.
Maybe the text can wait.
Maybe someone else can figure out where their own damn keys are.
And maybe you can sit down for a minute without mentally presenting evidence for why you've earned it.
You don't need permission.
But if you were waiting for someone to give it to you:
Go sit your ass down.
We'll figure the rest out tomorrow.
SO… this is life.