Running on Empty

An illness, an accident, or any kind of traumatic event that derails your life isn’t just difficult—it’s exhausting in a way that’s hard to fully explain.

For me, cancer has taken over nearly the last two years of my life. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been “over it” for a long time now. But the reality is, there isn’t a choice. If I want to keep living—if I want even a chance at reaching that light at the end of the tunnel—I have to keep going.

Still, the fatigue runs deep.

It’s not just physical. Yes, my days are packed with appointments, treatments, and hyperbaric oxygen sessions. The schedule alone is enough to wear anyone down. But what’s really hitting me lately is the mental exhaustion—the weight of constantly having to show up, stay focused, and keep fighting something that doesn’t follow rules.

Because cancer doesn’t.

Especially with a rare and aggressive sarcoma like mine, it often feels like it has a mind of its own. There aren’t many clear answers. Not many guarantees. It moves how it wants, when it wants. And that uncertainty adds another layer to the exhaustion.

Lately, I’ve noticed that tiredness spilling into other parts of my life.

Spring is here. Summer is around the corner. The kind of days people wait all year for. And yet, I find myself struggling to enjoy them—not because my body can’t, but because my mind is just… tired. The motivation isn’t always there. Even things that matter, like spending time with people or showing up socially, can feel overwhelming.

So for now, I keep my head down.

I focus on what I can control. I keep moving forward, even when I don’t feel like it. Because at the end of all of this, there are only two outcomes: remission or death.

And I’m still fighting for the first one.