Burning out isn’t just a fancy word for being bored and lazy
It’s the feeling that you trying to wade through quicksand
Or a peculiar orange-billed Pokémon is running in circles inside your brain
Or even more specific — the loss of yourself to the work
The end of you and “it” are merged, blended into one large mess
What was once a spark of interest turns into dread with every step
Yet you trudge on because time never stops —
When does time ever stop?
It’s the weight of anhedonia and exhaustion on your shoulders
The collage of words on a page suddenly overwhelming, foreboding
A sense of dissociation that follows the body which was the old “you”
The “you” who wasn’t stressed out by everything coming in at once
If only I had known earlier that people as young as I experience this
I could have done my best to avoid it in the first place
But nobody tells you this about college before it happens
So instead I’ll work to recuperate the pieces of myself I still have
Beginning with a single breath. In and out. I am here, and I
AM PRESENT.
