I shed people like snakes shed skin. I'm not proud of it.

I'm so tired. All the time. I can't keep up with the people in my life, and I'm afraid they'll decide they don't want to be part of it anymore. Sometimes that's exactly what happens.

Days feel like weeks until I finally fall asleep. Then I sleep the week away, and find everyone's moved on with their lives but me. I'm stuck in a constant fight between insomnia and fatigue, too exhausted to do anything at all.

Relationships take work, and I'm willing to put in the time and effort. I'm just not (always) able to. My nearest and dearest understand, but I feel like an awful person when I'm not able to give them that.

There's a very thin line between cutting yourself slack and indulging in self care, versus using your illness as an excuse to eschew responsibility. Illness is a reason for falling behind, not an excuse to stay there. I know you know that. I know I know that. And I know we're careful not to cross that line.

How do you pick up the pieces after an especially tough couple weeks of unrelenting fatigue?

(note) Title inspired by two lines of It's Love by The Jane Austen Argument.
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