“This is just a dream”

Try to keep going

Photo by Luke Stackpoole on Unsplash

There is a moment
Within the most harrowing of nightmares
When we realize,

“This is a dream”

Just a dream…
From which we can awaken —
From which our bodies will stir

And this once brought me hope —
Hope that reality isn’t bitter,
That it could release my soul
From the shackles of fear…
But not anymore.

When my eyes open now,
Dolor pervades me
For I cannot bear —
I cannot stomach —
The thought of rising
And living through another day,
Fighting constantly to retain
What I worked to achieve
And what I fear will dissipate
Within mere days.

I am tired.

The admission instills in me profound shame
For how could I be tired?
What have I done
To merit such exhaustion,
And how could my temporal fatigue
Rival that of my peers —
Who likewise take on challenges
Day in and day out?

I am ashamed
That I feel this way.

I do not know
What is wrong with me
I feel such profuse disgust
At what I have become.

I look inward
And I see indolence —
Resignation instead of diligence,
Nostalgia instead of ambition,
Despair instead of commitment
And, I fear,
Laziness–

I fear it has taken root
And rendered me a slacker.

How could I squander
My valuable time?
Worse yet, I did not even
Benefit from it —
I rationalized distraction,
Deluded myself into believing
That temporary relief would revitalize my faculties
And restore my prior self–
What I hope is my true self

Yet instead
I just lost time

And lost more time
And eventually lost myself
Even more so than before

I sit here
And I feel exhaustion

I have long felt tired.

But somehow
It feels different right now

I have not experienced such anguish
Since the worst moments of my life —

Since twelfth grade
When OCD consumed me,
Leaving me unable
To compose even one sentence

Since the first few months of college,
When homesickness took hold,
When my dog passed away––
When life and its joys
Suddenly shifted
And came unmoored

Since this past summer
When my relationship with my mother
Ruptured, seemingly irreparably…

Such moments stand alone
So why have the attendant emotions resurfaced?
And have they truly displaced
All other feelings?

If so,
This is different

Because even in my lowest moments
I still cared —

I still cared about learning,
Excelling,
Achieving my dreams…

Right now,
It feels as though my body
Has frozen
And my mind
Has turned backward
To face my past
And grasp for memories.

And nowhere feels like home.

I miss home,
But has home merely become
A figment of my mind?
A memory
That will never again manifest?

I feel so tired.

Truthfully, I do not know what is wrong.
I want to do well
Yet, at the same time,
I seem to grow exhausted
Just thinking about it

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And that in itself
Sows alarm

Because I do not want fatigue
To obfuscate my values and aspirations,
Particularly after all my efforts to date.

After I overcame those worst moments
And pulled through,
I want to do so again

But for this
I need hope.

For me,
Hope derives from comfort —
A warm, settled home offers hope,
For it serves as a reminder
That life’s timeless joys remain accessible

That I can achieve happiness again
That I can manage the OCD again
That I can perform well again
That I can have good family ties again

But why is it that
Whenever I return “home,”
This specter of misery
Follows?

It used to stay behind —
Tethered to moments
Of overwhelming work,
To places
Where I feel most alone

But now it stays with me,
Everywhere I go.

I just want to be “okay” —
Not necessarily teeming with health, energy, and good spirits,
But, at a minimum,
As functional as last year

Why am I so exhausted?

I want to do this,
Yet I keep hoping for a temporary escape route––
To buy time

Is this burnout?
Is this depression?
Is this anxiety?
Is this OCD?

Please tell me — what is this?
How can I overcome it?

Please help me.

I fear that I have lost
My final pillar —
My words,
Facility with language,
The one ability
That could bolster me
Despite the circumstances…

I fear the future —
I fear there is nothing left
To which I can look forward.

I once eagerly awaited weekends
Or holidays
Or even weekdays following deadlines

But nothing awaits me now.
I have fallen so desperately behind
I must devote all unused time to studies.

This does not upset me
But the thought of remaining in this state
While trying to study
Leaves me hollow

“I want a break” —

I frequently utter such words,
But, in truth,
I do not yearn for a “break.”

I just want a moment
To gather myself––
To collect my thoughts,
To process this,
To compose myself,
To pull myself together again.

But there is no time
I must work.

I want to do well.
Can I do well?

I must try my level best.

After all,
This is what
I have done before.

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