Tired

Do you ever just feel tired?

Not so much the sleep-deprivation type, where all you have to do to feel justified is blame the seven cans of Mountain Dew you chugged before passing out at 2 AM. That's the simple kind of tired, the kind that lets you indulge in a nice, long nap, and then miraculously it dissolves into normality once more.

But then there's tired. Tired as in mental exhaustion. And it would take more than a fleet of Sith fighter jets lasering the surface of the planet to drag you out of it. You're not sure from what, but you know it hasn't always been this heavy.

 It occurred to me, as I was laying there with my head on my binder during Biology, daydreaming once again about taking a bubble bath in herb-scented soap: I was really freaking exhausted. At the same time, I couldn't think of anything I wanted less than sleep.

Why does that happen? What makes our bodies become internally heavy? My brain feels like it's chained to the back of my head, squished into a balled-up-rag-shaped mush.

It's not just my attention span that it affects. It's everything from Food to Free time. Instead of swallowing five casadillas without taking the time to chew, I feel to exhausted to eat. I'm too exhausted to organize my locker. Put my papers in their respective binder-slots. Brush my hair. Get up.

Pretty soon I get home from school and all I want to do is sit on my computer chair and scroll slowly through Memestache. Over and over again. And when my eyes start to feel like sandpaper, I lay down.

And I'm way too exhausted to make my bed, so it gets to the point where I stop getting up. I just hear my alarm go off in the morning and I lay there for five minutes; ten. The rest of the world is moving fast-paced as always, but I'm stuck in a state of constant REM. Walking REM.

But when I Googled all this stuff, my symptoms told me that I was, like, depressed or something.

And that just seems... sad.