A personal space to express myself in writing
Some kinds of tiredness cannot be fixed with sleep. Sometimes the exhaustion comes from everything you have been carrying quietly for far too long, until being tired starts to feel like part of who you are.
Why is asking for help sometimes harder than doing everything yourself? A reflection on control, overwhelm, independence, and the strange habit of insisting “I’m fine” when I am very clearly not fine.
I miss when being bad at something was not a shameful experience. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, we became so attached to competence that being a beginner started to feel embarrassing. What happened to simply trying something because it might be fun?