National Coffee Day: Why Am I Always Tired Even After Coffee?

A commitment to show up and write my truth | Day 273 of 365

Happy National Coffee Day. Before we go any further, a moment of silence for Nessie and Nessoo, my beloved Nespresso therapists, who are still boxed up in storage.

In their place, I have a drip coffee maker. Measure the grounds, add the water, push the button, add milk. Done. There's no picking something lovely, no little moment when the smell convinces me things might be okay. It's a caffeine transaction, and it's the only kind of National Coffee Day I have to offer this year.

We did buy three pretty mugs, so at least we're drinking our exhaustion with some dignity.

Celebrating National Coffee Day Without the Ritual

Back on Day 249, in My September Reset Needed a Reset, I told you that making coffee used to be the best five minutes of my day, the one small thing that belonged only to me. Months later, it's still in storage, and I'm still measuring grounds. That's what National Coffee Day looks like around here this year.

So if you've ever stood in your kitchen with a full mug in your hand and asked yourself, "Why am I always tired?", welcome. Pull up a chair.

My answer is that I'm short on sleep, emotionally worn out, sick of making decisions, overstimulated, and whatever you call a woman whose brain is running tomorrow's schedule while her body is still finishing today. Sometimes coffee wakes me up. Sometimes it just makes me functional enough to answer messages. Sometimes it does neither, and I drink it anyway, because I like having hope (just kidding, lol).

Not long ago, after months of broken sleep, I woke up clear.

Truly clear.

Of course it happened on the morning our life shifted again, and of course it lasted exactly one night. My nervous system, it turns out, offers free trials but no membership. Still, I keep thinking about that morning, because it told me this fog isn't who I am. Somewhere under the interrupted sleep and the running list is a woman who can finish a thought without reheating her coffee three times.

I miss her.

"I Don't Know How You Do It"

People say that to me, and they mean it kindly. Some days I take it as support. Other days I want to answer, "Neither do I. Please send help."

I don't need another compliment about how strong I am. I need someone to notice why so much strength is being asked of me, and then take something off my plate. It's the same thing I said a few days ago about needing less to carry, and I'd guess plenty of you could say it too.

I'd love to tell you I'm a wonderful listener when a friend says she's exhausted. I am. I nod. I say, "That sounds so hard." Then she tells me it's because she has so many events, or so many errands to run, and somewhere in the back of my head, a very tired little voice whispers, "Oh, honey, sit down."

I'm kidding. Mostly.

Tired is tired, and I know that. It's just that I've lost all perspective, and it's hard to be sympathetic while running on fumes and drip coffee.

Coffee Is a Ritual, Not a Rescue Plan

I love coffee, and I don't want every enjoyable thing to turn into a wellness lecture. A good cup in a favorite mug is a small pause before the day starts asking questions. It feels like someone quietly handing it to you and saying, "Here. You might need this."

But coffee can't do my sleeping for me. It can't carry the mental load, settle a tired nervous system, or build the support I keep pretending I don't need. At best, it sits beside me while I work those out.

What I'd actually love is a weekend of Netflix and sleep. I want to drift in and out until I've slept so much that I willingly walk outside looking for sunshine and other human beings. That sounds simple. It feels wildly luxurious.

Maybe your version is one uninterrupted night, an afternoon nobody needs you, or a morning when you wake before the alarm and don't feel behind already. Whatever it is, wanting it doesn't make you lazy. And if the tiredness won't lift even after you've rested, please talk to a doctor. I'm not a doctor, and this post isn't medical advice. Persistent exhaustion can have physical causes worth checking, and it deserves more than another joke about stronger coffee.

Although, to be clear, I may still need stronger coffee.

Where This Leaves Me in the Temporary House

On Day 249, I said home begins the moment your own small routines find you again. I still believe that. I'm just not there yet. The candle is still on my desk doing its best, and most of our things are still in storage.

But looking back over these last few weeks, what carried me wasn't anything big. It was three pretty mugs. A muted group chat. An hour spent staring at the wall because my body had forgotten how to rest. A glass raised to an ending and a beginning while I cried through the whole toast. Warm bagels at a table with people I love.

Small things, held onto on purpose.

I'm grateful for those, for one clear morning that reminded me she's still in there, and for a safe roof over my family while we wait. When the Nespresso machines finally come out of their boxes, they're getting unpacked first. I'll make the first cup, sit down, and just be.

I don't want to get better at functioning while depleted. I want a life where I don't always have to.

So this National Coffee Day, if you're reading with a cup in your hand, I hope you get to sit down with it.

About the Author | Day 273 of 365

I'm a soul-led coach, entrepreneur, mother, and recovering perfectionist, currently navigating healing, uncertainty, temporary chapters, motherhood, work, big transitions, grief, nervous system healing, overstimulation, emotional growth, and the ongoing lesson that life works a whole lot better when we stop trying to carry everything alone. Today that lesson looked like admitting that coffee is doing far more emotional labor than any beverage should, and that needing real rest doesn't make any of us less capable.

Day 273 of 365. Still showing up. Still grateful. Still drinking drip coffee while my Nespresso machines wait in storage. 🐧