For the past three months, I’ve been really tired. This isn’t the kind of tired that you get from staying up late or the stress of having a lot going on. This is the kind of tired that doesn’t go away no matter how much you sleep or how little you do.
I have spent an entire summer struggling to get through my days at work, even though I have a desk job. After work, I just want to go to bed and then sleep 9-10 hours each night. When I have challenged the malaise, it struck back with a vengeance. So I don’t do much.
I’ve tried exercise, diet, supplements, and all kinds of things to snap out of it. I’m a regular visitor at the doctor’s office for blood tests, monitors, imaging scans, questionnaires, and the like. So far, no prognosis. It is like fighting an enemy in the dark, striking into the direction of any sound, but each attack glides silently through empty air.
It’s inconvenient, but I can still function. There is potentially an underlying cause that may be more serious than the evident side effect, so I need to keep pursuing an answer. Whatever. I’ll get by. It’s not the fatigue that bothers me.
This particular condition is a full, frontal assault on who I am, which is a guy who enjoys bouncing from place to place excitedly. I love to build things, fix stuff, and feel the wind in my face. Like Ricky Bobby, I’ve only got one speed.
People who aren’t exposed to ADHD may not understand why this situation is so frustrating. When I sit still, my brain changes channels every few seconds. In order to slow that down, I do something in the background that occupies enough of my attention to allow me to stay focused. That is why I pace during telephone calls, sandpaper a wood project while formulating a plan, or run while God chats with me. Activity allows me to stay on topic.
In this season of fatigue, people tell me to relax. When my body sinks into a chair, my brain runs unchecked. Imagine flipping channels every few seconds for several hours. It is mentally exhausting, and I feel bad for the inadequate attention I give to my family.
Last week, I had moderate energy for an entire day. I threw myself into a project at full speed, ignoring the warnings that I was pushing too far. It wasn’t long before I lost focus and hurt myself. To manage the pain, I went to bed early. Laying there in the dark, I was shaking with anger. I looked up to heaven and challenged God.
Silence was the only answer that came back.
Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” is an awesome song. In his smooth, baritone voice, he reflects over a life full of good times and bad before climbing to a defiant, energizing celebration of individuality. “I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way.” Man, could Old Blue Eyes do it right (click the link and listen for four minutes; he really was amazing).
Listening to him, I believe that through sheer force of will I could overcome my troubles. I could do it my way.
But in truth, I don’t want to live like that. Although I may rage on a difficult day at the Almighty to give me my life back, that’s not my true desire. I remember when my focus was doing things my way. It was a meaningless pursuit of hollow victories and short-term satisfaction.
Life has been better since I surrendered to Jesus. His overwhelming love has changed me. He gives me an eternal purpose. Now I worship with my whole heart and have felt the rush of his spirit. My focus is on others, not always myself, and that is his way.
He is the author of life and could restore my health with a thought. Maybe he will, or maybe he has better plans for me.
There is no possibility that I would trade that in for a life where I do it my way.
In this season, I may be tired, but I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. I need to focus on the one who gives me real strength, not just the adrenaline kind.
