Empty Eyes - Seeing Emotions, but Not Feeling Them

I recently had a moment of introspection, reflecting on the emotions swirling within me. Once again, I found myself in the hospital due to stress stemming from Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. It was a wake-up call to prioritize my mental well-being. So, naturally, I observed those around me—not to compare, but out of curiosity. What constitutes normalcy in society at 30? How do people typically carry themselves in public?

I've often been described as cold, emotionally distant, and out of touch. Yet, as I observed others, I noticed laughter, easy chatter, and comfortable physical interactions. Handshakes, shoulder touches, hugs—they seemed effortless for them. In contrast, any touch directed towards me sent the world into slow motion. Every point of contact felt magnified, and small talk grated on my nerves. While weather discussions held fleeting interest, they hardly led to deeper conversations. Gossip was simply intolerable.

I felt emotionally stunted, unable to articulate why. So, I turned to Google: "Why do I feel closed off when others seem cheerful?" The answer was clear: trauma, prolonged stress, anxiety, depression, and grief all contribute to emotional shutdown.

For years, I chased love, hoping it would invigorate me. I experienced it fleetingly, and as a mother, I found solace in the love exchanged with my child. Still, emotional detachment persisted—a hallmark of significant trauma.

Writing down my feelings became a refuge, yet facing emotions in person often led to a hasty retreat. This detachment wasn't a conscious choice; it felt like a chasm I may never bridge. But amidst it all, if I extend a greeting, offer a gift, or simply show up, it's significant in my eyes.

Perhaps that's why I settle for simplicity, believing in the power of presence and small gestures. I may not be in tune with my emotions, but I see them, touch them, and occasionally feel their weight. Yet, too often, embracing them has led to disappointment, reinforcing the notion that feeling is synonymous with pain.

"Empty eyes," they call it—seeing the world but feeling disconnected from it. It's emotional detachment, a numbing of the soul. Yet, even as I grapple with this, I refuse to let it define me entirely.