I sit at work wondering what, exactly, I’m doing here. Not here at work; just HERE in general. Existing. Living.

I love my job; I truly do. I have a passion for the work I do, and I want to be successful. But in the face of what seem to be insurmountable odds, it dawns on me: I am tired. Actually, I’m exhausted.

Not from the job, but from the fight. Or all the fights. My entire life has been a fight, a swim upstream, against the flow and the established “status quo.” And I am so tired of fighting for everything. My heart is heavy on a daily basis; not just for the community I serve, but for myself. Because I know I no longer have the fight in me. I simply do not have the energy.

I am tired of being told I am strong and I will somehow muddle through this. I have been strong my entire life. I’ve had to be, because the only person I’ve been able to rely on is ME.  I am tired of friends who say they’ll be there for me…and then they aren’t. Especially those I have humbled myself before, and made myself vulnerable by asking for their ear, their time, companionship-anything, really-and been ignored. This only reinforces the knowledge that I have made no difference or impact in anyone’s life, and I will not be missed when I gracefully exit. This strangely is a comfort to me-because no one will hurt or even miss me.

I suppose this would be the part where I list all the things I’ve had to fight for, the struggles I’ve endured alone. But I’m even too fucking tired for that. And to what end? What good would it do?

My only regret is that I have never known love. I have given love, generously. But I have never received it in return-or received it in a way that I felt it. Anyone who has claimed to love me has not really loved ME. It’s what I represent, or what I can do, or something. It’s never me and who I am. Finally, finally….my heart is broken beyond repair.

The thing is, I don’t want to go on another 30 or 40 years-being this tired and being alone.