5/16/2021
What if I’ll never really be able to feel happiness in the same capacity I did before? Has anyone thought to ask that question? Maybe happiness is like a well which can run so dry and crack internally that it’s never quite the same again. Except in this case I am the well which has been fractured in too many places to repair.
I’ve been mostly numb for the last 3 months. It just like… nothing really registers. Something which should bring me a lot of joy, in theory, feels like a blip which doesn’t move the needle much. And this is so foreign to me. As someone who has always relished big emotions and savoring the little things in life, I feel like someone took away one of my guiding senses.
The world is 3 dimensional, but only in concept. To me it feels rather washed out, grey, mundane… and it scares me a little bit to think about what a real emotion might feel like if it could register in my brain. Would I recognize it? Better yet, would I like it?
In some ways maybe this is a good thing. I’m able to look at things devoid of the emotions that usually muddy the waters. I can simply see something for what it is very clearly, and not be swayed by the right half of my brain that typically rules my world. But at the same time, I’m not me. At least not the me I’ve come to know and love for more than 30 years.
I can laugh; but the laugh doesn’t hit the way it did before. I can feel love from others, but it doesn’t move me like it did before. Like before, like before, like before… everything is divided into two stages. Before my world was upended. Before I stopped trusting peaceful moments. I know that to exist is to grapple with pain in all it’s manifestations. I just hope against all hopes that it doesn’t shake me up so badly that I’m never able to be myself again.