Apr 13 • General discussion
Empty Shell
Lately, I’ve been running on nothing. It isn't sadness, and it isn't anger—it is just nothing. It’s as if I’ve cried every tear and screamed every word I had in me, and now I am left with nothing but silence inside.
I wake up tired. I move through the hours like a shadow of myself. I smile when it's needed and I nod when it is expected, but none of it feels real anymore. The world keeps spinning, but I feel stuck—completely drained of color and meaning.
I find myself staring at walls, watching the light shift across the floor, waiting for a spark that never comes. Conversations feel like scripts I’ve memorized but no longer understand. I hear my own voice speaking, yet it sounds like it’s coming from someone else, miles away.
It’s a strange kind of exhaustion that sleep can’t fix. It’s the weight of a thousand things I can’t name, pressing down until there's no room left to breathe, yet I feel light as air—hollow and drifting. I’m mourning a version of myself that I can’t quite remember how to be.
I’m not even sure when this started. I just know that I don’t feel like me anymore. I wouldn't even say I'm broken... I'm just numb. And somehow, the absence of feeling hurts more than the pain ever did.
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Empty Shell
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