Thanks to finally engaging in therapy I'm able to put a name to the way I've been feeling for the past few years.
At the moment I'm living in a constant state of low-level misery and discontent, trapped inside myself.
I feel like a shell of a person with no meaningful relationships outside of my marriage. I have nothing to say to anyone, nothing to offer them other than superficial pleasantries.
My wonderful husband loves me but I've already mentally checked out of my marriage as a method of self-preservation while I wait for it to fail. If it does I'll be prepared for it and I'll be just fine on my own.
I long for connection and fear it at the same time, worried that I will never be able to give someone enough of myself. I have no hobbies and my self-esteem is at rock-bottom, so on the rare occasion I have something to talk about I'm convinced that no one will be interested in hearing it or I will come across as ignorant.
I think I'm even boring my therapist.
I'm never grumpy, never angry, never ecstatic or excited or bursting to tell someone something. I'm just...not here. Vacant.
Enthusiasm and passion feel like such ostentatious emotions, the kind of thing that looks great on other people but would look vulgar and embarrassing if I were to try them. To others I must seem perpetually underwhelmed.
I used to be creative, I used to be good at things.
I can't see a way out of this. The thought of living like this for the rest of my life terrifies me. What a waste.