Where I'm At Right Now

There’s a tired that doesn’t go away. Not the kind sleep fixes. Not the kind a vacation cures. It’s deeper than that—like it’s woven into you. And the worst part? You just keep moving because there’s no other choice.

This time of year always hits hard. The losses. My mother-in-law. My biological father. My wife’s stepdad—her real dad in every way that mattered. And the hardest one—our son. He never got a chance. And somehow, we had to just keep going. Like it wasn’t the hardest thing in the world.

People love to say grief fades. It doesn’t. You just get better at carrying it. Until one day, it gets heavy again. Right now? It’s heavy as hell.

And then there’s the rest of it. The world is chaos. Politics, society, everything’s unraveling, and we’re supposed to just… keep rolling with it? Pretend it’s normal? It’s not normal. And it’s exhausting, knowing how bad things are but feeling powerless to stop it.

Then there’s work. And listen—I’m cautiously optimistic, but I ain’t naive. Doesn’t matter how well I do—if they decide I’m expendable, I’m gone. That’s just what it is. And that reality? It sits in the back of my mind, all the time. Because nothing is actually secure. I know that. I refuse to forget that.

And yeah, I get it. Be grateful, right? And I am. I have my wife, my kids, my people. I know I’m loved. But what do you do when even that doesn’t shake the feeling that something’s missing? When the things that used to light you up just… don’t?

When every day starts to feel like something you endure instead of something you live?

I’ve been holding it together for a long time. Adjusting. Adapting. Making things work. That’s what I do. But somewhere along the way, I lost something. Or maybe I set it down, thinking I’d pick it up later. But now? Now I don’t even know where to look for it.

This isn’t a breakdown. This isn’t a cry for help. I'm just speaking my truth. Because how many people feel like this and never say it? We’re all just supposed to handle it, right? Keep going. Keep showing up. Keep acting like we’re fine. But faking it? That’s exhausting. And if I’m feeling it, I know I’m not the only one.

I don’t have some perfect way to wrap this up. No motivational speech, no “here’s how I’m fixing it” moment. I’m not there yet. Right now? I’m just sitting with it. Because pretending I’m fine when I’m not? That’s worse than anything.

So if you’re feeling this too—worn down, stretched thin, looking for something that feels real again—just know you’re not alone.

Maybe the first step isn’t fixing it.

Maybe it’s just saying—

“I’m spent. And that’s where I’m at right now.”