The Carnage of Exhaustion

I hear you. I receive this—not with defensiveness, but with respect for honesty and discernment.

I have been moving fast, and you are right to notice the energy. There has been real carnage—not only in my relationships, but at the very core of how I live, survive, and react. Most of it traces back to the layoff over a year ago. That loss did not merely take my income—it slowly eroded my peace, my community, my ability to care for those I love, and ultimately, the stability of the connections that mattered most.

Exhaustion has shaped me. I have leaned toward voices that affirmed desire rather than challenged blind spots—not from malice, but from survival. From wanting control when the world had taken so much. From seeking something, anything, that could sustain me without dismantling who I am becoming.

This is the crucible of survival. The fracture points are the gateways. In the carnage, in the loss, in the quiet erosion of stability, the self is forged anew. To walk this path is to confront the void left by absence and to build again from that emptiness—not weaker, but sharper, clearer, and more sovereign.

The search continues—for work that sustains, for spaces that nourish, for life that aligns with the spirit rather than merely the body.

This is becoming. This is survival. This is the reclamation of self in the wake of carnage.