My Year in Haiku: 2025

2025 was the year I burned out. Utterly and completely in ways I might never recover from, given my inability to take the kind of rest I’d need to begin the process, much less complete it. It was also the year I made the most friends I’ve made in years, the year I connected to a new sense of community–something I’ve been withering away for the want of for a long time–and the year I finally admitted to myself, if no one else other than my therapist, that I had crossed a line somewhere and wasn’t sure I could find my way back. It was a bad year for a lot of reasons personal, professional, emotional, economically, politically, and so many more I haven’t the energy to summon to mind, let alone write out. I also found something I’m good at and am getting recognized for, and truly learned the lesson that no amount of positive input is going to make up for how burned out I was and still am. I can’t work through burnout. I can’t reprioritize around it. I can’t realign myself (specifically) to minimize it. And all I’ve got to show for working myself to that point is the knowledge that the instant I let up on the pressure I’m applied to myself, all of my coworkers started complaining to my boss about how little work it seemed like I was doing. Work that wasn’t my job, that they had taken for granted I would continue doing once the project was done, but work that someone needed to be doing and they decided it had to be me since I’d stepped up when that work not getting done would have burned me worst of all. It was not worth it. None of it was. And yet there’s nothing I can do about it now other than try to find some path forward that will limit any further damage. Which, you know, isn’t fixing anything. It just hopefully avoids making it worse.

(1/1)
Hope begets loss and
I cannot stand any more.
This is survival.

(1/8)
It is easier
To look away than confront
What is on my mind.

(1/14)
I change my alarm
To reflect reality…
Should I change myself?

(1/21)
Balancing my needs
Against my protective urges
Has left me frozen.

(1/26)
I wake up and go
From bed to office to bed
As a day passes.

(1/30)
Yesterday cost more
Than I was willing to pay.
What else could I do?

(1/31)
I’m losing my shit.
This dumb shit keeps happening
And I’m losing it.

(2/1)
I’ve avoided this
For my entire adult life.
Please pardon my grief.

(2/6)
Weariness claws at
My empty, echoing mind
As I look for rest.

(2/11)
I can feel my soul
Dragging through the muck and mire
Of this too-long year.

(2/20)
I still waste mornings
When my days are not dreary.
Change is not instant.

(2/23)
I feel myself yearn
For the same satisfaction
I get from this game.

(2/24)
I’m burnt to a crisp
And it gets worse every day.
I might never heal.

(2/27)
A new chance to rest
Is spoiled by people needing
Me to be present.

(2/28)
A slow start today,
But avalanches start with
a single motion.

(3/1)
My recovery
Is held captive by burnout.
Can I ever heal?

(3/4)
Burnout bringing me
To the edge of a breakdown
I cannot afford.

(3/10)
What’s left of me wears
Down to a nub while I work
One just one more step.

(3/12)
A moment of breath
Amidst the ceaseless effort.
I must carry on.

(3/19)
Another aching
Day spent trying to get rest
So I can work more.

(3/24)
Another week starts
As I struggle to get out
Of sheer exhaustion.

(3/30)
My final structure
Looms large in my afternoon.
It should be fun, though.

(4/3)
I wake each morning
In aching silence that ends
Only when I sleep.

(4/10)
My body twitches
With the perceived exhaustion
Of long-term burnout.

(4/14)
Dissatisfaction
Lingers through my time to sleep
And I watch dawn rise.

(4/18)
I needed the rest
I got these past too-short weeks.
It was not enough.

(4/21)
Rise and shine for work
So no one can tell how much
This project broke you.

(4/29)
An empty day, blank,
With little recorded thought,
As I parsed the fog

(5/1)
I woke peacefully,
But my day has stirred in me
A rage I can’t quell.

(5/5)
Even my poor dreams,
Scattered thoughts with no clear plot,
Say I need more sleep.

(5/8)
I’d be quick to leave
Everything I know behind
If given the chance

(5/9)
I can feel my bones
Collapsing under the weight
Of mere existence.

(5/12)
Am I resigned to
The need for stability
Or just scared of change?

(5/23)
Waking up feels good,
The day gets worse from then on.
I’m so fucking tired.

(5/30)
Rebuilding my life:
A ship of theseus in
More than name alone

(6/5)
I’m unravelling.
It looks like fraying until
I’ve fallen apart.

(6/6)
It’s a pity you
Feel best-served by my silence.
I’ll remember that.

(6/8)
I can’t help but feel
This could have been avoided.
My question was clear.

(6/13)
Bitterness fuels me
When all my good reasons have
Left me hollowed out.

(6/21)
This will be the end.
A decade of gaming done
In less than six months.

(6/22)
Sweating distraction
Logged in to occupy space
While my mind’s elsewhere.

(6/26)
Low expectations
Gird me for battle against
Today’s nothingness.

(7/7)
My spirit broken,
My burnout worse than ever…
Just one more summer.

(7/25)
I am restless not
Because I cannot rest but
From fear of stillness.

(7/31)
Burning my candle
Until all that remains is
Smoke stains on the wall.

(8/5)
He scares me more than
A Scammer’s threat ever could.
Twisted irony.

(8/8)
A slow morning turns
To bubbling anger as I
Fight capitalism.

(8/8)
I want you to know
Apria Healthcare sucks ass.
Fucking burn it down

(8/10)
My day defies words.
I scrape the empty barrel
Just to make a sound.

(8/19)
Is it the burnout
Or all the insomnia?
Turns out that it’s both.

(8/25)
Is there no escape
From the bullshit slop machines?
It makes my soul burn.

(8/28)
Hard won victory
Will carry me through the day.
I don’t want to work.

(8/31 – late)
It was the first time
I did not think about who
I would not hear from.

(9/9)
Sore muscles, blisters,
And too little sleep make for
Such a tiring day.

(9/13)
Yesterday’s anger
Smolders like coals in my heart
As I acquiesce.

(9/18)
Time bends for the worse
And my carefully planned days
Arrive in a mess

(9/29)
A return to work
Is greeted with all the dread
Of a slow nightmare.

(10/5)
Today, I finish
A journey I just began.
Has it been nine months?

(10/7)
The drive I once felt
To write and make and play hard
Has burned itself out.

(10/14)
You would think after
Ten years I’d stop scheduling
Morning therapy…

(10/14)
I can’t help but wish
That you were already dead
So I could mourn you.

(10/14)
Instead, I am trapped,
Caught grieving for the living
Who can’t care for me.

(10/14)
If you haunted me,
Then I could exorcise you
And begin to heal.

(10/14)
Instead, my heart bleeds
With every letter they send
And I can’t forget.

(10/22)
A new letter sent
In a familiar refrain
I thought I’d finished.

(10/27)
An attempt was made.
Returning to bed won out
And I’ve given up.

(10/28)
I can’t hide from it
Now that I’ve said it out loud.
Something has to change.

(11/6)
Pinning my hope on
An evening with my friends
Was unwise to do

(11/9)
I don’t want to sleep.
I want to avoid thinking
As long as I can.

(11/10)
All that happened once
Will repeat as we refuse
To learn from the past.

(11/14)
Am I paranoid
When I’m proven right again?
This brings me no joy.

(11/17)
I don’t want to say
That I was right to worry,
But I was so right.

(11/27)
I am so thankful
That I get to spend today
With people I love.

(12/2)
I am cratering.
I can’t afford to be sick,
But that’s not my choice.

(12/6)
I’m a goop monster.
All I want is some relief,
But goop’s all I get.

(12/9)
I need a minute.
Could everything please just stop
So I can catch up?

(12/12)
A five alarm fire
Landed in my lap and I’m
Already burned out.

(12/17)
It’s never ending.
There will always be more work
Than I can get done.

(12/??)
Time slips away as
I vanish into my rest.
Days have no meaning.

I’m Gonna Make It Through This Month If It Kills Me

In the last five days, multiple news anchors have called for the death of homeless people and they all still have their jobs. Other people have stated, with no spin or hyperbole, the beliefs of a man who was killed in the middle of making excuses for mass shootings being an acceptable loss for the right to have guns and gotten themselves fired, doxed, or stuck on administrative leave as a result. People have come out of the woodwork to praise a man who spoke only hate merely because he was killed. An entire factory of temporary workers were abducted by ICE and had their human rights violated while imprisoned, which isn’t even the worst thing that happened that week. The president of the United States of America has called on the various executive powers of the government to start investigating anyone who has spoken ill of him publicly (culminating in Jimmy Kimmel getting taken off the air for incredibly innocuous comments, but that seems to have broken through to the general public in a way nothing else has so far, which feels both horrendous and mildly relieving–horrendous because so much worse has happened already and mildly relieving because finally, something broke through to the public). A man going about his day-to-day life was killed by ICE agents who lied about what happened and will likely face no real consequences because there’s no way to know for sure who did what because they’re going around with their faces hidden and all identifying information removed from what can’t even be called their uniforms. All of this, and so much more I can’t bear to write about (or don’t dare to write about) has happened in the first half of the month (September, 2025).

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Looking Ahead At 2025

I’ll be honest: my main goal for 2025 is to make sure that all of the people I know and love are still breathing at the end of it. With the way the world is turning, bureaucracy’s inertia or not, I’m mostly concerned that people I know and care about will be targeted for simply living their lives as their most authentic selves. Pretty much everything I have in mind for the rest of this incredibly fresh year is geared toward doing what I can to make that happen. It isn’t much, given the relative imbalance of myself and the systems that might be leveraged against them (and, of course, the inability to shield anyone from the random misfortunes of the world), but I will be doing what I can. Effective activism is often a subtle thing in this day and age, especially compared to the performative stuff that fills social media. I’m not going on diatribes about what I’ll do to anyone who hurts my friends, but I am calling my senators. I’m calling my state and federal government representatives. I’m doing what I can to directly support people in dangerous positions with direct financial contributions, at least when I can afford them. It never feels like enough, it is rarely lauded, and it almost never feels even remotely effective, but at least it beats sitting on the internet, joining the chorus of voices who say they will kill/die for those being targeted but can’t be bothered to try organizing locally.

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