(Play audio while you read)
I felt myself drifting from myself. Does that even make sense?
It’s 2:24 am and I have Glee playing in the background (talk about the irony). Glee is the furthest thing from my emotional plane right now. I can’t even call it sadness or depression. It feels more than and less like these.
Just sheer emptiness.
I don’t feel numb. I think.
I feel waves of tears being restrained behind a dam not meant to withstand the immense burden of my….emptiness.
I feel weak.
I feel all of this so I can’t be numb. Right?
I’m not angry. I’
m not any of the emotions I know or think I know. I’m just…EMPTY.
Just thinking those words echoes through my conscious and sub-conscious.
I can’t blame anybody but myself; so unplugging sounds selfish right? I mean, I have friends who’d miss me, i’m sure Instagram will miss my hourly check-ins BUT I need to unplug.
The paradox of social media screams at my life right now. The more engulfed in it I become the less social I get with my best friend. Well now we’re more like third cousins twice removed.
This isn’t just Facebook or Snap chat, or Instagram or Whatsapp or any of the MANY sites I’ve joined to unknowingly lose myself.
This is about unplugging from my cellphone (outside emergencies of course), unplugging from the internet (outside this journal and my studies), plugging back into my hobbies, reading again, writing again.
Plugging back into me. The young woman I absolutely hated but grew to love fiercely.
You know im not even sure what my hobbies are anymore.
I’d like to find out.
A week is a really short time but its a start.