Monday Chat | Sep 1, 2025
📌 Question: "Why do I feel so tired all the time, even years after leaving my country? Will it ever get better?" Others are already finding their strength—don’t miss your chance to recover too.
Welcome to Monday Chat — Your Weekly Q&A Office Hours for Our Newcomer Community. Every week I open this space to answer questions from those who care about newcomers and want to act with clarity. Your support helps me think about what is next and how the communities behind me can take part in rebuilding newcomers lives.
Last week, I sat across from Maria* (not her real name) at a small coffee shop near downtown. She's been in this country for ten years now, still waiting for her case to be resolved. Ten years. As we talked, she said something that stayed with me long after our coffee went cold.
"You know," she said, stirring her cup slowly, "I feel so tired all the time. Even when I sleep eight, nine hours, I wake up exhausted. Everything feels heavy - like I'm carrying invisible weights everywhere I go. I thought it would get easier after all these years, but some days it feels harder than when I first arrived."
Her words hit me deeply because I've heard variations of this same feeling from so many people in our community. It made me realize that we don't talk enough about this particular kind of exhaustion - the kind that sleep doesn't fix, the kind that comes from carrying the weight of displacement for months, years, sometimes decades.
This brings me to today's question:
"Why do most displaced people feel so tired all the time, even years after leaving my country? Is this normal, and will it ever get better?"
If you're reading this and nodding your head, know that you're not alone. What Maria described, what maybe you're feeling right now, has a name and a reason. More importantly, it has hope for healing.
The Invisible Weight You Carry
When people think about newcomers, they often focus on the dramatic moment of leaving - the dangerous journey, the fear, the immediate crisis. But what we don't talk about enough is what happens after. The long, quiet struggle of carrying displacement in your body and mind, day after day, year after year.
Think about it this way: imagine you're holding a small weight in your hand. At first, it doesn't feel heavy at all. But if you hold that same weight for hours, then days, then years, your arm starts to ache. Your whole body starts to compensate. Your shoulder hunches, your back bends, your neck tenses. That small weight becomes a source of constant pain.
This is what happens with the emotional and psychological weight of displacement. The stress of being far from home, the uncertainty about the future, the daily challenges of navigating a new culture, the grief for what you've lost - all of this adds up over time.
Why Your Body Stays Alert
Your nervous system is designed to keep you safe. When you first left your home country, your body went into what we call "survival mode." This mode helped you make quick decisions, stay alert to danger, and push through incredibly difficult situations. It probably saved your life.
But here's what happens: sometimes your body doesn't know when it's safe to relax. Even years later, even in a peaceful moment, part of your nervous system might still be scanning for threats, still preparing for the next crisis, still carrying the tension of survival.
This is why you might feel tired even after sleeping. Your mind might be resting, but your nervous system is still working overtime. It's like having a computer running multiple programs in the background - even when you're not actively using it, it's still using energy.
The Many Layers of Exhaustion
The tiredness you feel isn't just one thing. It's made up of many layers:
The Weight of Waiting — If you're still in the legal process, or waiting for family reunification, or hoping for permanent status, this uncertainty takes enormous energy. Your brain is constantly trying to plan for different futures, constantly managing anxiety about what might happen.
The Weight of Starting Over — Every day, you might be doing things that were once automatic but now require extra thought. Speaking a language that isn't your first language, navigating systems you didn't grow up with, explaining your story to people who might not understand.
The Weight of Grief — You're grieving many losses - not just people, but places, routines, the version of yourself you were in your home country. This grief doesn't follow a timeline. It comes and goes, and it takes energy to carry.
The Weight of Hyper-vigilance — Your body might still be watching for signs of danger, even in safe situations. This constant alertness is exhausting, like having your alarm system always on.
This Is Normal, and You're Not Broken
First, let me say this clearly: what you're experiencing is completely normal. It doesn't mean you're weak or broken or not adapting well enough. It means you're human, and you've been through something that changes people.
Millions of people around the world who have experienced displacement carry this same tiredness. It's not talked about enough, but it's real, and it's valid.
Small Steps Toward Feeling Lighter
While this exhaustion is normal, it doesn't have to be permanent. Here are some gentle ways to start feeling less heavy:
Honor Your Body's Needs — Your body has been working so hard for so long. Rest isn't laziness - it's medicine. If you're tired, rest. If you need to move slowly some days, move slowly. Your body is wise, and it's telling you what it needs.
Find Small Moments of Safety — Your nervous system needs to learn that it can relax. This happens through small, repeated experiences of safety. Maybe it's a warm bath, a phone call with someone who loves you, or sitting in a place where you feel peaceful for just ten minutes.
Connect with Others Who Understand — Isolation makes everything heavier. Even small connections with people who understand your experience can help lighten the load. This might be a community group, a friend who also comes from another country, or even online communities where you can share without having to explain everything.
Practice Patience with Yourself — Healing from displacement takes time - often much longer than we expect or than others understand. Be patient with your process. Some days will feel harder than others, and that's okay.
The Strength You Don't See
I want you to know something: the fact that you're still here, still trying, still getting up each day despite this exhaustion, shows incredible strength. You might not feel strong, but you are demonstrating resilience every single day.
You've already survived the hardest part - leaving everything you knew and starting over in a completely new place. The tiredness you feel now is your body and mind processing all of that strength you've used.
Will it get better? Yes, but not in the way people often expect. It's not like a switch that gets turned off. It's more like a heavy backpack that you slowly learn to carry more comfortably. You might always carry some of this weight, but you can learn to distribute it better, to rest when you need to, and to find strength in ways you never expected.
Your tiredness is real, your struggle is valid, and your strength - even when you can't feel it - is remarkable.
Next Week
Next Monday, I'll be back with another question from our community. If you have something you want to ask, please send it along. Remember, your question might be exactly what someone else needs to hear.
Until then, be gentle with yourself. You're doing better than you know.
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