New language of feeling
Before I studied psychology, I struggled to understand the weight of mental health struggles. I thought I knew, or at least, I thought I could imagine it. Then, I graduated, passed the boards, gained a little more empathy, a touch more understanding. Yet, I’ll admit—there was still a distance.
But now, I find myself standing on the other side, living what I once tried to dissect, diagnose, and define. It’s hard to explain, this unfamiliar absence of joy, a silence where serotonin once danced. The energy I once wore so easily now slips away, leaving me low, feeling almost empty.
I used to be vibrant, the kind of person who thrived on moments. Now, it’s as if life has dimmed; colors fade, sounds feel muffled. I don’t know what it is, or maybe I do, but I can’t quite grasp it. Perhaps, sometimes, we can’t truly understand the darkness until we’re in it ourselves, learning a new language of feeling.
Nagmumuni-muni, Muning
