I'm about ready to walk away from all of it and become a fisherman. And I'm only half joking. I'm exhausted from spinning my wheels, convincing myself that if I just work harder, build one more thing, or push a little longer, I'll finally get ahead. I'm trying to keep my head above water after a divorce I never wanted, while raising my daughters in the nurture and admonition of the Lord every other week. That's apparently what fatherhood looks like now, courtesy of no-fault divorce and some white-knight, spineless PCA elders. I'm paying for Christian private school and specialized education because my youngest came into this world carrying burdens she never asked for. I'm trying to give both my girls the stability, faith, and opportunities they deserve. Meanwhile, I'm trying to remain faithful in church, Bible study, and community group. I'm trying to build a business, advance my career, be a dependable friend, pursue holiness, and maybe, by God's grace, find another rib rather than another sin. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I'm supposed to find time to breathe. The truth is, I'm burned out. Not because I've lost my ambition or my faith, but because I'm tired of fighting on every front simultaneously. Some days it feels like $100,000 and six months of peace would be enough to finally get my feet underneath me again. But here's the part that really gets me: as a man, where do you even say any of this? Express frustration, and you're angry. Admit exhaustion, and you're weak. Talk about the weight of it all, and suddenly you're looking for pity, or someone wants to attribute everything to PTSD. Sometimes a man isn't asking to be rescued, diagnosed, or pitied. Sometimes he's simply telling the truth about how heavy the load has become. I don't want to abandon my responsibilities. I want to fulfill them well. I want to be a faithful father, a godly man, a good friend, and someone who actually builds something worthwhile. I'm just tired of feeling like I'm drowning while everyone expects me to keep swimming. I'm not giving up. But I am tired. And I think there's a difference.