Journal I
Life's hilarious sometimes - here I am, usually posting short stories about magical realism out of randomness and slice-of-life adventures, but today it's a bit different. Between the spreadsheets and coffee scents that fill my days, I figured my "blog" could use a dose of authenticity. Just this time, I'm stepping away from the made-up worlds and imaginary people to explore something a bit more personal to me - like opening a different chapter in this digital diary of mine (if you will).
To be honest, for some time now, I've been grappling with an odd emotional numbness. It crept in quietly - I can't pinpoint exactly when, but it's been at least a few months. Ironically, understanding emotions have always been my strong suit, I've prided myself on being particularly in tune with my feelings and inner world. Somehow I lost it along the way. Only way to describe it is like watching my life through a thick pane of glass.
What's more strange to me is how seamlessly I continue to navigate daily life. I go through all the expected motions - my accounting job, social interactions, the usual routines. But there's this persistent emptiness underneath it all, perhaps like an NPC (non-player character)?
I've tried to make sense of this state. Could it be work stress manifesting differently? I doubt, since my job isn't really all that challenging. Or maybe it's my mind's way of coping with life's constant pressures. What's puzzling is that nothing specifically triggered this, as far as I know. My life circumstances haven't changed - everything is technically fine. Yet I feel disconnected from all of it.
Perhaps the most unsettling aspect is my lack of distress about this situation. Naturally, I know I should be concerned, but I can't summon the worry. In social settings, I maintain the expected behaviors - nodding at the proper moments, responding appropriately and politely - but it feels increasingly like following a godforsaken script.
I'm left wondering if this is just a phase, or something more lasting. I don't really know for sure. While I understand this could be serious, I can't seem to feel appropriately troubled by it. I find myself merely observing this emotional void with a sort of clinical detachment, wondering when - or if - I'll feel things deeply again.
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