This is the “I’m fine” post. You know the one where you sit back and look at yourself and where life has got to and say, “What the hell? I am fine. I have always been fine. I have always felt this way. This isn’t stressed!”
And the GP shakes her head, and the cardiologist and the psychologist, and then the other psychologist and finally the psychiatrist.
Oh. Apparently, this whatever it is, whatever I am feeling or not feeling and the degree to which I am feeling it or not feeling, well that is a problem.
My phone says I’m super hyper stressed too. The app does. I sit and chat with a close friend of an evening feeling relaxed after a meal, and check my app with a smile. I feel fine. My app says my stress levels are off the scale. Even I don’t know I’m stressed anymore.
How can you not know you are stressed?
Because stress is all I know. Distress is apparently my norm, so much so that I don’t even know when I am distressed.
Weird huh? Or sad. I don’t know. I don’t feel that I know anything anymore.
Nothing makes sense.
How come I am supposed to have feelings about everything? How come not having feelings about something doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings about it, but that I am burying them in a deep, dark hole inside of myself?
Can a person just not have feelings about something?
What is wrong with numb and what is wrong with working hard to get back to numb and stay there for as long as I have to be in this world?
Numb is survivable.
Feelings is not.
But I’m fine. I’m always fine.