New problem: I’m finding that it’s exceedingly difficult for me to care about things or people.
I find myself in a constant fluctuation between not caring and all, and caring too much.
To the former situation, sometimes I feel like I’m outside my body. No, I’m not high, but occasionally I feel like I’m an observer to a life, rather than a participant. Good things happen, things that make everyone else proverbially jump for joy, I don’t seem to feel at all. I’ll describe it this way - in my head it’s a recognition of a feeling that I’m supposed to have, but there’s an absence of the feeling itself. It’s a hollowness that seems to overcome everything I should be feeling. Worse still, I know what I’m meant to be feeling, and I remember when I used to feel that. And it’s not just of situations regarding me, it goes into an inability to care about the full spectrum of emotions in my life. No happiness, no sadness, no anger, no emotional involvement. Just hollow. Find out someone hates you? Nothing. Something good happens? Nothing. It’s like I can’t care about anything. And that scares me. Because I feel heartless. I should care about the people close to me, but I don’t. And I can’t. How terrible is that? The textbook definition of a heartless bitch.
Now to the latter, I care too much. The other occupies most of the time. But occasionally when I’m alone, usually at night, I feel like the overemotional teen that is so pathetically cliched. My previous emotional retardation only adds to the excess caring. Everything seems to come back to me at once, and I feel really, really sad. It’s the only thing I think about, the overwhelming sadness. I’m still not very sure why, I think it’s because I feel so alone.
And so we conclude Episode 98324 of “Why I Hate Myself”
