Hey @Baguettei,
I want to take a moment to really acknowledge how much you’re carrying right now. I can feel the weight in your words, the exhaustion that lingers no matter how much you try to push through. It’s not just school—it’s the sheer effort it takes to keep going when you’re running on empty.
It makes sense why everything feels so overwhelming. You’re trying, really trying. You’ve reached out to professionals, you’ve sought help, and yet that exhaustion, that dread of showing up to school, still follows you. That must be so frustrating—to want to do better, to know you need to, but to feel like your body and mind aren’t cooperating with you.
And I hear the fear underneath it all—the fear of falling behind, of disappointing the people who believe in you, of not being enough despite how much you care. I see how much you care. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here, writing all of this, searching for something that might help.
I don’t know if anyone has told you this recently, but you are not failing. You are exhausted. And exhaustion isn’t something you can just “work harder” through—it’s something that asks to be understood. Maybe it’s the way school is demanding from you, in ways that don’t match what you have to give right now. And that’s not your fault.
I also see that quiet fear of *what if I can’t get out of this. What if the exhaustion keeps winning? What if I never figure it out? That fear is valid. And yet, the fact that you’re here, asking these questions, tells me that part of you still believes there’s a way through this. That part of you—the part that’s still searching, still hoping even in the smallest way—is worth listening to.
For now, I don’t want to tell you to push harder or “just do it.” I don’t want to add to the pressure that’s already weighing on you. What I do want is for you to take a breath—just one, right now. Not because it fixes everything, but because even in this exhaustion, you deserve a moment of pause.
We are here. We see you. And you don’t have to figure this all out alone.