Your soul is tired. Your heart is tired. Your body is tired.
Even worse is that you suffer through it all alone.
It isn't because you feel no one will care about your story, your pain. It's because you don't want to burden others with it. Better to sink alone than to take the whole ship down with you, isn't it?
This is the cost of being a person who cares. The person who fixes everything. The person who takes care of everyone. The one who gives up so much of their own self to make sure that the people they love remain happy and whole. This is the price that is paid. Loneliness and exhaustion.
This isn't a guide on how to be okay. It isn't a way to say the often heard advice of the importance of "putting your own oxygen mask on first." Hearing those things does not help, nor does it feel like an option in most cases. You wouldn't be in this position, over and over again, if you were the type of person who felt capable of putting yourself first.
I write this to say, I see you. I am you.
We are part of a society of empathetic people who will never meet one another. Oh, we may meet at social gatherings... but we will interact as the brave and happy people that we allow others to see. Not for the sake of pride, but because the guilt of bringing people 'down' is stronger than the desire to actually be heard.
No, you don't want a badge of honor for what you do. You don't need recognition. The reality is that being someone who cares so deeply is so ingrained, you would and do behave this way, even when no one is looking.
We are tired. We have heavy hearts from carrying the hardships of all of those around us. We need respite without the feeling of guilt.
All I can offer is my solidarity. It may be done quietly, but it is there.
