When I Say, “I’m Tired,” What I REALLY Mean

With Depression and Anxiety, It’s Probably Not What You Think…

Depression and anxiety have become my constant (unwelcome) companions.

• Sure, there are times when they’ve been in remission (i.e., symptoms have either gone away completely or they’re so minor as to not disrupt my daily living).
• There are other times when I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t even make it out of bed.
• Then, there’s what’s become more typical, I’m “highly functional” meaning I can usually fake it enough to get through the work day, but in the evenings and weekends, I crash.

During those functional periods, most folks with whom I casually interact — co-workers, neighbors, acquaintances — would assume I’m “fine” (whatever the hell that means). But, family and close friends who see that I’m avoiding social interactions or spending the whole weekend in the house may have some inkling that all’s not well.

So, they ask, “How are you,” or, “Hey, we missed you at church. Everything okay?”

The Truth Of The Matter Is…

Everyone has their own life and their own issues. Sure we may ask how someone’s doing, but usually it’s just a nicety — smalltalk to break the ice or act as a conversation opener. Do we really want them to pour out everything that’s wrong in their life? Probably not — at least not on a regular basis.

So, when my husband or kids or parents check on me and I know that I can’t get away with a response of “Fine”, then my default response has become, “Oh, I’m just tired.”

It’s a polite catch-all to avoid burdening them with everything that is swirling around in my head.

It’s a way to signal that I’m struggling without boring them with the details that they likely wouldn’t understand or may not want to hear.

But here’s what I really mean…

1. I can’t really articulate what I’m feeling right now because I’m feeling nothing (or everything). Please, don’t keep probing right now.
2. I feel like I’m tightly bound in cotton. I know there are places you expect me to go and things I should be doing, but I just don’t have it in me to move.
3. Yeah, sitting there hovering and sighing isn’t going to help me feel better or make me any more likely get up and do whatever it is you’re expecting of me.
4. I appreciate your concern, but I have a therapist — you aren’t them. I don’t need you to play amatuer diagnostician and give me your layperson advice on mental illness.
5. Unless I ask you to be my accountability buddy, could you please not pester me every day about whether or not I’ve taken my meds.
6. Please don’t take my mental illness personally. It’s not your fault, your responsibility, or about you.
7. However, I understand that my illness impacts you greatly as somone who cares about me. Don’t feel like you’re on your own. Don’t feel guilty about taking care of yourself and seeking your own support.
8. Please, don’t ask me to do the mental labor of providing a 101 course on my mental illness. If you make the effort to do some research on your own, it will go a long way to showing you aren’t just being polite when you ask how I am. (Plus, though every journey towards mental health is unique, it’ll give you an idea of what to expect.)
9. I’m not being lazy or giving up. I’m fighting an internal battle, and I’m doing the best I can at this particular moment.

So, Now You Know…