I feel nothing.
It’s not that I can’t feel love or hate or anything in between. I can. I know I’m loved and I love in return.
But I can’t feel anything. It’s like all of my pain has hollowed me out. Like there is nothing left.
And you know what?
It’s not terrible.
I mean, yeah, feeling happy and joyful would be great, but that always ends up with me once again buried in a pit of depression.
You know, I hate that word.
I only use it because there are no words to describe what it’s like. But I hate it. It’s become such a large part of my vocabulary since I opened up, and every time I hear it, read it, or say it, I flinch.
I’m so tired of hearing it.
But now… I’m not depressed. I am just here. Emotionless.
It’s like I’m in a desert. Water is life. Emotion. Pain. Sorrow. But there is no water. Just sand. Just openness. Solitude.
I don’t know how long I will stay here. On this comfortable island of numbness. I will miss feeling happy- but I am protected from depression. I know that as long as I’m numb, I will not fall into depression. I will be free from it.
To open my mind and my heart to feelings once again is to make myself vulnerable to the issues that have for so long plagued me. I’m just not ready for that.
So I wait. Not for anything specific. Not for any specific time. Just for clarity of where to go from here.
Do I move forward?
Do I stay numb?
I am pretty sure I put myself here.
As a defense.
So why leave?
For now, I’m content.
I’m okay with being numb.