I’ll run myself dry before I ever admit I need help…
And I know that’s not healthy.
I know I don’t have to carry everything alone.
I know people would probably show up if I asked.
I know burning myself out isn’t a flex.
But admitting I need help feels worse than being exhausted.
So I keep doing what I always do…
handling it,
figuring it out,
running on fumes
and telling everyone I’m fine.
Maybe one day I’ll learn to do it differently.
But right now?
This is the only way I know how to survive.