Fatigue Isn’t Sleepiness — It’s Shutdown.

One day. Two lives. This is what they don’t see.

🌤️ DAY: Pretending You’re Fine

  • You wake up tired. Not groggy — exhausted at a cellular level.

  • You do the math: How long can I fake it today before the shutdown starts?

  • You make coffee. You forget the coffee. You microwave the same mug twice.

  • You answer emails. You forget words mid-sentence.

  • You walk through your day like it’s underwater.

  • You smile at people. They say, “You look great.”

  • You wonder if your body will forgive you tonight.

🌒 NIGHT: When the Shutdown Hits

  • The moment you sit down, your joints scream.

  • The moment you lie down, your brain lights up.

  • You’re beyond tired. You’re hollowed out.

  • You can’t move. You can’t rest. You can’t explain it.

  • Your body is done negotiating. It starts cutting the power.

  • You cry in the dark. Or maybe you just stare at the ceiling and go numb.

  • You remind yourself: this isn’t weakness. It’s a system crash.

🧠 What We Wish They Knew:

  • Fatigue is not being sleepy. It’s being drained of your existence.

  • This isn’t about motivation — it’s about biology.

  • This isn’t solved by naps — it’s managed by grief, pacing, and stubborn grace.

🔥 Hot Plate, Cold Nerves: Survival Toast

When your body is offline but your stomach isn’t.

  • Bread

  • Butter, jam, peanut butter — whatever

  • Bonus if you manage to toast it

  • Extra bonus if you eat it before falling asleep mid-chew

Toast is a hug with crusts.

🗣️ Journal Prompt:

What do your days and nights really look like — and what would it feel like to stop hiding the hardest parts?