As cliché as it is, I have no doubt in my mind that everyone will leave me. Maybe not intentionally, but life is impermanent and so are relationships.
I’ve been going on a string of meditation retreats lately. And I’ve been finding it really difficult to connect with myself. Not that it used to be easy, but I used to at least be able to feel things. And lately, I feel nothing. I can do the outward motions – I can laugh when something is funny – but it’s difficult to remember what pure joy feels like. I’ve also found myself distancing myself from my parents, from my friends.
I suppose I’ve taught myself to hedge. If I can’t feel at all, I can’t feel the bad things. If I don’t get close to anyone, when they leave me, it won’t hurt as much. But in the meantime, I’ve left myself only with emptiness, loneliness, and guilt.
So I’ve committed to opening myself up to vulnerability. Not just the outward things. Somehow, I’ve always been comfortable with that. But the real fears that no one knows except me – that I’ll end up alone; that I’m just a last resort for friendship, but no one would actually spend time with me if they had other options; that if I recover from depression, I won’t like the person underneath and neither will anyone else; that I’ll die without having made a real impact on the world.
And I’m committing to admitting my true feelings for people to people. Because when other people share with me, 9/10, it actually brightens my day.
I’m sick of feeling empty.