Out of habit, I turn my emotions off when things get hard. I'm so good at it that I don't even recognize I've done it. For the first 19 years of my life, I didn't even know I had this habit. It comes naturally, subconsciously. It's a such a smooth transition that I rarely know when or why I've done it. I don't even get a chance to identify the emotions I'm shutting off, and I can't ever recall when I shut them off. It's that quick and easy. Today, I realized I was numb. 

Last night, I began reading a book with characters that felt raw emotions. The emotions were extreme sadness, loneliness and depression, and I was drawn to them.I couldn't put the book down. Today, when I woke up, I finished the book. It was all I could do; it was all I could think about. I had to keep reading because I couldn't feel on my own, but I could read about the raw emotions of the characters and it was stirring something in me. I finished the book, and it sent me into a frenzy - literally. I wasn't ready to be done almost feeling these things. They were so close to the surface, but they had not yet surfaced. I could not yet consciously identify these feelings in me, but there were no more pages to read that would bridge the gap. So I did what the character in the book does. She runs. I went running. I ran until my body hurt. I ran to parts of Moka I've never seen. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care. I just needed to run until I cracked, until I laughed or burst into tears or collapsed from frustration. I needed to feel something, anything, and I thought running to the point of exhaustion could make that happen. I ran up hills. I ran down hills. I sprinted. 

Nothing.

Just a sore body.

So here I am, aware that I am numb and unsure of how to feel once more, aware that the emotions I will feel will be difficult and painful - loneliness, isolation, longing, a sense of uselessness. They will hurt. But they will be real and they are a part of life. It will be better than this. Please, God, may I feel them soon.