Life is not always easy; it’s a mantra I’ve always chanted in the back of my mind every time things get overwhelming. It is the quiet shield I use when the weight of the world starts to press down on my chest. This simple phrase acts as a reminder that the struggle is a shared part of the human experience. It is the anchor I drop when the waves of responsibility threaten to pull me under. Even so, there are moments when the mantra feels too small for the magnitude of the exhaustion that follows.
What makes the fatigue so sharp is the realization that this path is not an accident. I am pursuing the very degree I have dreamed of and wanted for as long as I can remember. This was the goal I fought for, the future I imagined would bring me nothing but fulfillment. Yet there is a cruel irony in watching your greatest passion turn into a source of such profound pressure. The love I have for this calling is still there, but it is currently buried under clinical rounds, thesis revisions, and the crushing expectation to be a healer before I have even learned how to heal myself.
I know that I am capable of many things, and I have the skills, especially in the artistic and creative outlets that I am good at. There are crafts I have mastered and others I simply know how to do correctly, and I genuinely like doing them. But when life is piling up, especially when it is those very tasks, it becomes incredibly hard to perform them. Even my favorite talents can start to feel like burdens rather than escapes. I have cycled through every coping mechanism I know, from deep breathing to compartmentalizing, but sometimes these things are simply not enough. There are nights when every mental tool feels like trying to hold back the ocean with a paper wall.
There is a particular kind of grief that comes from being sad and tired at the same time. It is not the sharp pain of a single tragedy but the slow erosion of your spirit by a thousand small requirements. You avoid the people who love you because you are terrified that if you let them see the cracks, they will find nothing but a vacuum. You tell yourself that you will not hold if you reach out, believing you are too hollow to be caught. It is a terrifying insecurity to feel like a burden even when you are the one carrying the most weight for everyone else. When the breakdown finally comes, it is usually quiet and devastating, happening in the four corners of your room where no one can see the mask fall away.
The degree you dreamed of will eventually have your name on it, but do not let the pursuit of the destination consume the person who is traveling. For anyone who is also struggling to get their degree or find their way through life, please know that your worth is not a metric to be measured by your outputs or the success of projects. You are not a vessel that only exists to be emptied for the sake of others. The most profound healing you will ever facilitate is for the tired, honest soul that has been waiting for you to come home to yourself. You are still here, breathing in the wreckage of your own exhaustion, and that survival is more impactful than any title you will ever earn.
