When I Get Too Tired

Much life stuff lately.  Good stuff.  But exhausting.  And not for this forum.

I can tell I've been too tired--physically, yes, but also emotionally; not enough introvert alone time to replenish my sweet, sweet energy juices--because it's been hard for me to fully engage my emotions with the characters and books I largely use to recharge.  Even they can drain me and require a bit of distance and detachment.  Much more so with actual people, even as I need and want them.

I decided to take a break from the stories by engaging my analytical side with ideas like those in my last post and this book: This Explains Everything: Deep, Beautiful, and Elegant Theories of How the World Works.  They've been marvelous, but much too fleeting; now I need to find the time to review the book and leave a few more blog posts and dwell in the ideas.  Hopefully soon, but time is hard to come by.

So that helped, but I remain in a constant struggle to find the energy to properly engage life.  Another way I can tell when I'm too tired is my general anxiety grows.  Sometimes--when there is energy to support it--that anxiety can express itself as insecurity.  Right now, though, it's closer to apathy.  Since it's Poetry Month, a couple of song lyrics come to mind to express how my weariness feels.

Detachment and apathy when I can get away with it; when I can't, every interaction leaves me feeling like this:

I saw the darkness in my heart
I saw the signs of my undoing
They had been there from the start
And the darkness still has work to do

And this:

Seeing myself this way
I am a monster I believe
An' seeing is believing
Is there no doubt left?
When I wake up I poison myself
And poison gives no appetite
I sicken myself so much
I sicken myself so

Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me
Whenever I let my guard down, whatever I was ignorin'
Whatever I fear the most is whatever I see before me
Whatever I have been given, whatever I have been

When I'm tired like this, I'd just rather not engage.