When Tiredness Asks Questions ~

Recovery is going well. I am looking forward to seeing the specialist on the 8th. There is something comforting about having the next appointment on the calendar; another marker, another checkpoint, another reminder that healing is moving forward whether I can feel it or not.

What I was not expecting was how tired breaking a bone would make me.

Not simply physically tired, although there is certainly that. It is a deeper kind of tiredness. The kind that slows thought, quiets excitement, and makes even good things feel heavier than usual. And I have noticed something about myself through the years. When I get tired, I begin to question.

I question what I am doing here. I question whether all of this is supposed to happen. I question @redeem_thyself, @7_pedals, and @empowering_parents_network. I question the effort of losing weight, the hours practicing my harp, arranging music, performing again, writing, creating, and researching.

And beneath all of those questions sits one I do not always say out loud.

What am I doing wrong? Why does it not feel like I am making a difference?

I came across an article from Psychology Today that helped put language around this experience. It explains that fatigue affects far more than energy; it changes how we think, how we interpret events, and how we evaluate ourselves. When we are depleted, our perspective narrows. Things that usually feel meaningful begin to feel uncertain. Decisions become heavier. Purpose becomes harder to see. The article reminded me that exhaustion changes perception, not necessarily reality.

Another article from Psychology Today explored how exhaustion can begin to feel personal, as though tiredness means something about who we are rather than what our bodies and minds need. That thought stayed with me. Maybe I am not losing purpose. Maybe I am simply running low on reserves after carrying so much for so long.

Nature seems to understand this in a way I forget.

A tree does not stand in winter wondering whether it still matters because there are no leaves. It does not question whether roots are still growing simply because growth is hidden. The forest appears quiet, but beneath the surface, life continues. Energy is conserved. Systems restore. Spring arrives without forcing.

I wonder if I have forgotten that truth.

I have asked a lot of myself this year. New work. New places. Therapy. Healing. Collectives. Music. Writing. Recovery. I keep expecting myself to produce visible evidence that all of this matters.

But maybe making a difference does not always feel dramatic.

Maybe it sounds like one parent feeling less alone. Maybe it sounds like a podcast listener who feels understood. Maybe it sounds like strings on a harp vibrating in a room. Maybe it sounds like one woman deciding she is worthy of taking up space.

Tonight, I am trying not to answer every question.

Tonight, I am simply reminding myself that tiredness is not failure.

Perhaps tiredness is not asking me to quit.

Perhaps it is asking me to rest, and trust that what I have planted is still growing.

When you are tired, what questions become louder for you? And what helps you remember that exhaustion is not the same thing as losing your way?

Let me know, and I will reply. 

~ julie

If you feel so inclined, please reply with your thoughts.

Note: JM Lane is NOT a mental health professional, nor does she carry a license to practice medicine. Posts, blogs, and content are based on JM Lane’s personal experiences, perceptions, and reflections. By no means does any material convey what others should or should not do.

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