exhaustion isn’t just the fact I couldn’t fall asleep last night, or every night since early august, but it also isn’t just the anxious jolting awake once my eyes closed.
mental illness isn’t just sobbing in the driveway at 6am, trying to convey the message to my boyfriend that my brain is broken.
it’s the skin on my arms and chest crawling like I need out of it.
it’s staying awake well over 24 hours because I still have to be an adult and work.
it’s tears and snot and chest filled cries in my therapist’s office.
it’s a headache.
it’s feeling like i’m not a person.
exhaustion is tiredness,
overwhelmed and crashing,
but it’s the only way my depression lets me wake up right now.