I can’t feel anything.
I can’t decide if it’s because I have nothing to feel or because I’ve just lost the ability to feel. I want to feel, but there is nothing – and as more time passes, the nothingness becomes greater.
I’m scared because the last time I felt this empty, I fell into a bottomless pit and I’ve never fully recovered. Maybe there’s some subtle differences this time, but the same feeling of nothing – it’s there.
Nothing is good. Nothing is bad. Everything just is. I don’t know what to do with nothing.
There is a massive “whole” inside: A hole that is the whole of me. The whole of me, inside of my outside shell, but not really there at all.
I want to feel sad and depressed and I want to break down and fall apart – but that’s not happening. Maybe it’s the pattern of everything that’s happened in the past, so it’s my instinct to want to feel that way. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m not able to feel that.
I want to feel happy and excited and hopeful, but I don’t feel that either. I am just here, watching the world go by and silently observing. I think it’s bad that I can’t feel anything good, but what other options do I have? I wonder, will this emptiness ever fill itself in? Is it a sign that things are changing for the good, or does it mean that I’m slipping down that slippery hill yet again?
Despite the emptiness, I am somehow still keeping it all together – I am not falling apart, even though that’s what I want to do. I am not running away and never coming back. One foot in front of the other seems easier than it was in the past. But for some reason, it’s hard for me to tell if this is real or it’s just the function of me not feeling what I should be feeling.