Silence is sometimes wanted

I’ve been pretty quiet lately in really all aspects of my life. I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been pretty nonexistent most days on Instagram, and my social life is pretty bleak.

I find myself not wanting to talk to people. In fact, I’ve had a tendency to just not respond to text messages from friends for days, if not weeks.

The truth is I’m exhausted. Not physically exhausted, but I’m mentally and emotionally drained.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy conversation because I do. I think most people do. I also really do care what my friends, new friends and random strangers have to say.

I just don’t want to listen, internalize or mentally digest what people have to say.

More often than not, I just want to sit in my own silence, listen to crickets chirp or some soft music in the background.

The only person I care to listen to is my husband, but I think it’s because I also know there are periods of time where we sit in each other’s silence. The verbal and silent communication between us is understood. We both know silence is sometimes wanted.

I can’t say others understand my desire for nothing.

Since leaving the news, I find myself more awkward to be around, more introverted, less willing to strike up conversation. I have plenty of people who talk to me, but I feel as though I spend a large portion of that conversation staring blankly back at the person.

For the first time in years, I’m at an absolute loss for what to say, which makes me feel rude, disinterested or just lacking compassion. None of that is true.

Justin recently had a get together with friends. One of his old buddy’s girlfriend was there, who I have been wanting to meet for some time. It was our first time meeting, and I just had nothing to say, nothing I wanted to share with her about me. I let the conversations die naturally, awkwardly staring at her with a mind like a clean chalkboard, and I felt like she could see that. I felt like she was looking into my eyes and seeing nothing.

I've also noticed a lot of social anxiety recently within myself. I'm terrified to talk to someone, worried about what comes out of my mouth. The thought of conversations with people sometimes sends me into a panicked mode with my heart feeling as though it's about to pound out of my chest.

That’s not like me. I used to really care about getting to know someone. I like making people feel like I care about what they have to say, like they’re the only person I can hear, see and care to listen to in that moment. I like making people feel heard.

Not right now, though.

I sometimes feel I’m just a dark cloud, full of past experiences. Many times, I just don’t want people to know about me, what I’m facing, what goes on in my mind, what my plans are or who I really feel I am at the moment. It's all so draining to explain why I feel the way I feel, why I lack the self confidence or motivation to do what's so normal to everyone else.

“I heard you used to work in news.” so many people have said to me in recent months, wanting to know more, wanting to know what it was like in news, why I got out, what I’m doing now.

Each time, the answer is to focus on my mental health, which inevitably I feel the need to explain. Explaining it all, though – well, it feels pathetic, like I’m asking for sympathy, asking for someone to really understand me.

I’m not.

It’s a topic I’ve discussed with my therapist, but one thing we’ve also discussed is the need for me to have someone to talk to, a friend to tell everything to.

I’ve been working on that, but right now, I’m scared that friend will feel as though I don’t care about their problems, like what they have to say bores me.

This whole healing process has been great. I’ve learned a lot about myself, a lot about how my past has shaped me and how to internalize everything in a healthy manner before moving on. However, it’s difficult. All I really want to do most days is sit at home, sleep, go to the gym and just do nothing. I don’t want to work on all this crap. I just want to go back to feeling happy all the time, not having a care in the world.

I want to go back to that compassionate Anastasia who wants to have conversations with people, who wants to listen to others and who just wants to feel normal.

My therapist says it’s all a part of compassion fatigue, and now it’s time to work on me and what makes me feel whole.