I Feel F***in Numb
I donât even know whatâs wrong with me right now. I should feel happy. I should feel so damn happy. I have a beautiful baby. I have the sweetest bunny who makes me laugh every single day. I have a camper that I love, a little home that feels like something I built with my own hands. Iâve got things people dream about. Iâve got peace â or at least I should.
But I donât feel it.
I just feel⊠numb.
And itâs the weirdest thing because I know Iâm lucky. I know Iâm blessed. I know I have it good compared to how things used to be. A year ago, I was drowning in chaos, crying every day, questioning if I even wanted to keep going. Now? I have everything I prayed for â and somehow, itâs like my brain didnât get the memo.
I wake up and take care of my baby, feed the bunny, clean the camper, drink my coffee, and itâs all fine. But thatâs the problem. Itâs just fine. No spark. No excitement. No fire. Just going through motions, and it feels like Iâm living in grayscale instead of color.
I keep thinking maybe itâs my meds. Maybe theyâre off. Maybe Iâm too medicated, or not medicated enough, or maybe my bipolar disorder is just playing its stupid mind games again. You know that feeling where youâre watching yourself from outside your own body? Like youâre standing in the corner of your own life, watching everyone else smile and laugh and feel, while youâre just... stuck? Thatâs where Iâm at.
And the worst part is that I canât even tell anyone without sounding ungrateful. Like, how do you say, âHey, I have everything I wanted, but I still feel like garbageâ? People would think Iâm insane or spoiled or unappreciative. But itâs not that. I am grateful. I look at my baby and I want to cry because heâs the most perfect little human Iâve ever known. I look at my bunny and feel this soft love bubble up because sheâs such a ridiculous little creature. I look at my camper and remember all the steps it took to get here. Iâm grateful as hell.
But I also feel like Iâm trapped inside a fog that I canât climb out of.
Itâs like when youâre watching TV on a channel thatâs just a little bit static â you can see the picture, but itâs blurry, and the sound keeps cutting in and out. Thatâs my brain right now. Blurry and cutting out.
Iâve been trying to figure out why. Is it exhaustion? Probably. Is it hormones? Maybe. Is it the bipolar? Almost definitely. But part of me wonders if this is just⊠adulthood. Like maybe we get so used to chasing stability that when we finally have it, we donât know what to do with it. Iâve spent so long surviving that I donât know how to just be.
Itâs easy to feel emotions when your life is on fire. You cry, you scream, you fight, you laugh because itâs all chaos. But what do you do when things calm down and youâre left with silence? When the adrenaline is gone and now youâre just here, existing, with no crisis to distract you from your brain?
Thatâs when the numbness sneaks in.
And I hate it. I hate feeling this way. I hate that I canât pinpoint it. I hate that I canât just snap out of it. I hate that Iâm sitting here, surrounded by everything I ever said I wanted, and my bodyâs like, ânah, letâs just not feel anything today.â
I even tried the âself-careâ stuff everyone preaches. Journaling, baths, walks, stretching, cleaning, deep breathing, gratitude lists. And yeah, they help for like, five minutes. But then I go right back to feeling hollow. Itâs like putting a Band-Aid on a bruise. It doesnât fix it â it just hides it for a minute.
Sometimes I wish I could open my brain up like a computer and just reset it. Just hit âclear cache,â delete the emotional glitches, reboot and start over fresh.
Because itâs frustrating to love your life and still not love living it.
And I donât want to sound like Iâm in some dark, hopeless place â Iâm not. Itâs not like that. I donât want to die; I just want to feel alive again. I want to wake up and feel excited. I want to laugh and actually feel it in my chest, not just make the sound because I know Iâm supposed to. I want to look around and feel joy instead of just awareness of it.
Itâs like knowing the words to a song but forgetting the melody.
And Iâm trying to be patient with myself. I keep reminding myself that healing isnât linear, and that sometimes feeling nothing is just your brainâs way of protecting you from everything. Iâve been through so much these past few years â maybe this is just the emotional hangover. Maybe my brain is catching its breath.
But damn, itâs annoying. I want to feel the sunshine again, not just see it.
Maybe itâs the meds, and maybe itâs not. Maybe itâs just part of being human. Maybe itâs okay to feel like this sometimes. Maybe I donât need to fix it right away. Maybe this is just the quiet before I find myself again.
Either way, Iâm not going to stop living. Iâll still make my coffee, feed the bunny, love my baby, laugh with my man, and clean the camper. Iâll still show up even if my feelings donât. Because thatâs the thing about life â you keep showing up until it feels like yours again.
And I know it will. Eventually, it always does.
But right now?
Right now I just feel f***in numb.
đFollow my chaos â camper life, baby giggles, bunny bites, and the messy middle of figuring it all out.
















