Drained Out

Half the year has slipped by, and yet it feels like I’ve lived through so much more than just six months. This feeling—of being utterly drained—echoes what so many experience after endless listening, working, understanding, and simply trying to keep up. Sometimes, it feels like I have nothing left to give, like I’m running on empty even when there’s plenty left on my to-do list.

Lately, even the things I used to love—watching my favorite shows, drawing, or journaling—bring no relief. Typing all day for work makes writing in my journal feel more like a chore than a comfort. I find myself scrolling endlessly through Instagram, unable to look away from my phone, only to realize five minutes later that nothing has really changed. There’s no motivation for new experiences, exercise, or even the hobbies I usually crave.

Now, I find myself sitting by the window, watching the world outside and overthinking everything—especially the things I’ve never done. The exhaustion from binge-watching series, eating my favorite foods, or scrolling through old photos is a kind of tiredness that feels impossible to explain. The world, it seems, doesn’t understand the meaning of this endless scrolling or the emptiness that follows even the things that once brought joy.

Looking back at memories in my photo gallery, I see days that are gone—scenes that now exist only in my heart. Those memories brought me here, and in some ways, they’re a source of happiness. But feeling like there’s nothing to do can be irritating, like the world has lost its shape and books have lost their magic. Even after taking a break to try and recharge, I find the discomfort lingers.

“Sometimes, you don’t realize the weight of something you’ve been carrying until you feel the weight of its release.”

This is the reality for so many people—drained by the very things that once energized them. As I reflect on my own experience, I realize I’m not alone. We’re all facing this together, even if it feels deeply personal and isolating. Sometimes, just acknowledging the exhaustion is the first step toward finding a way through it.

But as I sit here, letting my thoughts wander, I remember that even the most persistent clouds eventually give way to sunlight. Maybe this feeling of being drained is a sign that I need to pause, breathe, and let myself simply be. There’s a certain beauty in allowing yourself to rest, in accepting that it’s okay not to be productive all the time.

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” — John Lubbock

Maybe, instead of fighting the feeling, I can lean into it—let myself recharge in small, gentle ways. I can try to find gratitude for the little things: the warmth of sunlight through the window, the quiet moments of reflection, the memories that remind me of who I am. Even when the world feels overwhelming, there are sparks of hope in the simplest experiences.

“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.” — Anne Lamott

So, for anyone else feeling drained out, know that you’re not alone. The world can wait. Take your time, find your own pace, and trust that energy and inspiration will return—maybe not all at once, but slowly, like the first rays of morning light after a long night.

“You can’t pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself first.”

This is my story, but it’s also the story of so many. And in sharing it, maybe we can all find a little lighter, even on the most exhausting days.