It’s been seven months of unemployment, and I’m exhausted in ways I can’t always name. Exhausted from hoping, applying, waiting, and from waking up every day to face the same uncertainty.
Everyone keeps encouraging me to go outside. “Take a walk,” they say. “It’ll make you feel better. Clear your head.” But how do I explain that I gained so much weight last year and even more this year and now nothing fits? That the very thought of being seen, of stepping outside in clothes that pinch and pull and remind me of everything that’s changed… it feels unbearable. How do I explain that it isn’t just laziness? That it’s shame, embarrassment, and a heaviness that goes so much deeper than the number on the scale. I’ve realized lately that I don’t function well without structure. Maybe that’s why I’ve never wanted to be an entrepreneur. I thrive best when there’s a plan: wake up, get dressed, go to work, finish tasks, come home. A rhythm that anchors my day and, in a way, my sense of self.
Without work, the days bleed into each other. Some mornings I wake up and can’t believe this is my life. How did it come to this? Sometimes I want to scream, cry, or just disappear under the covers. And so, I turn to what helps even if it doesn’t look healthy from the outside. Watching TV shows and movies keeps my mind busy for hours. It stops me from spiraling. It makes the day pass faster, which feels like mercy.
People see me staying indoors and think I’m making it worse. But they don’t see the panic I feel when I look at my closet and nothing fits. They don’t see how exposed I feel just standing on the street. They don’t see how badly I miss the quiet dignity that came from working, from being needed somewhere. I hate this version of me. But right now, this is the me that exists. A little lost. A little heavier. Struggling to find a reason to get dressed and go outside. Maybe that sounds hopeless but maybe it’s just honest. Because sometimes, the hardest part isn’t what people tell you to do. It’s living inside a body and mind that feel foreign, while pretending everything is fine.
I know it might look like I’m not trying, but the truth is: some days, just getting through the day is effort enough. I hope, maybe tomorrow or next week, I’ll feel ready to step outside and try again. But for now, what I need most isn’t more advice or pressure it’s understanding, patience, and kindness, both from others and from myself. Even if it doesn’t look like progress on the outside, surviving this season is still something. And maybe that’s okay, for now.
...THROUGH MY EYES ✨ 