An inability to connect with others emotionally; it is often described as dissociation or depersonalization; it is also the decision to avoid engaging emotional connections, rather than an inability to do so
She doesn't want to talk to anyone, she doesn't want to hear about how her neighbor's cat is missing an eye but it doesn't feel any pain. She feels like the cat. Instead of missing an eye, she's missing a part of her; she's missing him. The only difference is that people are genuinely worried about the cat when nobody gives a shit about her.
She doesn't want to relate to her friend's story about not having a life, although that might be true, and she doesn't want to cry over a story that some teenager tells her about their dog passing away. Maybe she's coming off as insensitive, and maybe that's a problem, but she definitely doesn't care.
Nowadays, she's a wall. Talking to her is as if she's a brick wall. She doesn't listen or respond, she leaves the person trying to connect with her talking to themselves. Lately it's been as if she's in the ocean, floating emotionlessly, trying to keep her head above the water. That's the only thing she cares about now, she cares about staying alive. It's no longer about him, it's about surviving.
I'm not okay.
She's treading water, desperately hoping that her head will stay above the water, hoping that one day she'll feel something, anything, again. She's been swimming for so long that she's becoming exhausted and tired from trying so hard to make something work that was doomed from the start. Her emotional baggage is weighing her down, abruptly pulling her under as she fights to breathe again, but she's starting to give up.
The thing is, she doesn't need water to feel like she's drowning. She's never really related to that concept as much as she does right now. She truly feels like she's in the ocean with a weight tied to her ankle, slowly pulling her down in the depths of the never ending darkness.
She's constantly tired, yet she feels that this tiredness is something so large in capacity that it can't be fixed by something as simple as sleep. And how could the tiredness possibly be fixed by an act such as sleeping when she can't even keep her eyes closed for more than ten seconds a night? Instead she blocks him out, she blocks out her emotions, she blocks out the entire world.
"Where have you been lately?"
And the saddest part is that she's physically been there the entire time; she's listened to her friend's stories about how much fun they have with their boyfriends, or how they're getting a new dog just because they simply want one, or how their parents won't leave them alone about their grades. She listens with closed ears, sometimes mumbling an "uh huh" or an "oh that's unfortunate" to create the illusion that maybe just for a second she actually cares about their above average yet unfortunate lives. How does one answer such an odd question when physically, she never went anywhere? Does she take a sarcastic approach and say something like "The Bahamas," or does she play serious and ask them, "What are you talking about?" However she chooses to answer the question based on how she truly feels inside.
"I've been here the entire time, so maybe you should open your eyes sometime and live your own sad and pathetic life instead of worrying about mine thanks."
She goes for the agitated approach.
