I don’t want to write this post.

In fact, I’m having trouble doing anything at the moment that anyone might consider productive or useful. Instead, I feel overwhelmed. Sad. Weary. So very weary.

Tired right to my bones. Exhausted deep in my soul. Weary, and in some ways hopeless.

Do you feel that, too?

The thing is, I sometimes get like this the closer we get to Christmas. There are a lot of factors. I start thinking about all the family I’ve lost since I was a kid. I think about the kids we never got around to having. I wonder about my legacy. I wonder if I’ve done anything that will have any lasting impact on the world. I wonder if any of my work matters.

It’s not just Christmas that triggers this, by the way. Sometimes I wake up wondering these things, feeling hope drain from me like water from a cracked glass. Feeling that bone-depth, soul-hollowed weariness.

This post is not a cry for help (or is it? … no). It’s a note. It’s a reminder. To me. To you.

Hope shows up for the people willing to look for it.

I have a heavy workload right now, and things pulling me in all directions. I “don't have time” to feel sad or anxious. Those things suck all the energy and life out of me. Maybe you can relate.

But what can I do? It’s not like I decided, “Today I’ll be depressed.” Or… did I?

I think maybe I did. Maybe not consciously, or even willingly. But it’s me who decides what I focus on, what I think about, what actions I take.

I know, absolutely, that if I hold myself in the right way, if I smile, if I breathe well, if I read or watch or listen to something uplifting and inspirational, I can shift my mood. I can become more “me,” instead of letting myself drift into a miasma of anxious and sad thoughts.

I also know that if I take time to do the work—do a bit of journaling, do some writing, take a walk, listen to some uplifting music—I know that makes me feel better, too.

It’s just that, sometimes, I don’t feel up do doing any of that. Have you ever felt that?

Sometimes the default is the most I can muster. I know what will make me feel better, but it’s too uncomfortable an experience for me to commit and do it. In fact, doing the thing that would make me feel better feels more painful than just letting how I feel be dictated by whatever is happening around me.

There’s a sense of comfort that comes with wallowing and letting things just happen.

So it’s understandable, when we get into a funk or feel sad or depressed, or when we feel overwhelmed and anxious and weary in our bones, that we might just withdraw. We might let things “just happen.” Even though that makes us feel powerless. Even though that makes us feel even more exhausted. It still, weirdly, somehow feels comforting.

So what do we do?

We fight. And by fight, I mean we take some action. Any action. Small, tiny, seemingly insignificant, that will do.

For me, it’s been writing this post. And up next I’ll even make a video. I had decided not to make a video, but by this point, by God, that just feels like the right thing to do.

Because when it started, I did not want to write this post. But by doing it, I showed myself—I felt weary, I felt it down to my bones, but I was able to do the thing anyway. And the same can be true for you.

You are stronger than you gave yourself credit for.

And you do not have to let anything happen to you by default. You can choose. Because choosing… ultimately that’s who you really are. Be the glorious you that I know you can be.

And I’ll do the same for you.

If you like this post, there’s a blog full of this kind of stuff. And Side Notes is basically an extension of my Note at the End, which you’ll find in all of my novels. And you can find those by clicking here. Share this post with your friends, if you found it helpful. And buy my books if you’d like to support me and my work!

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