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Three weeks in and you're already looking for the exit. Not consciously. You don't sit down and decide to wreck this. But you notice yourself picking fights over nothing. Creating distance where there wasn't any. Finding reasons why this person isn't quite right, why this job won't work out, why this opportunity isn't what you thought it was. The thing you wanted is right here. And something in you is already planning the ending. If this sounds familiar, you're not weak-wille

You're halfway through the conversation and something happens. Your partner is saying something, maybe something important, maybe something you've heard before, and then you're not there anymore. Not checked out. Not tuning them out on purpose. You're just... gone. Your face goes blank. Your body goes still. If someone asked you what was just said, you couldn't repeat it. You're looking at them but you're not seeing them. And somewhere underneath all of it, there's a part of

You apologise before you've done anything wrong. You scan rooms for evidence you've upset someone. You replay conversations from three days ago, cataloguing everything you should have said differently. The guilt isn't tied to a specific moment or mistake. It's just there, a low hum beneath everything, like tinnitus of the conscience. You think this is who you are. That you're just someone who feels bad a lot. But guilt that follows you everywhere, that shows up before you've

There's a moment that happens in the therapy room. Someone sits down, looks at me, and says something like: "I know I should feel something about this. But I don't. I just... nothing." They say it with frustration. Sometimes shame. Like the absence of emotion is proof that they're broken, or that they're doing something wrong. But here's what I see: a part of them that did its job so well, it never clocked off. The Part That Got You Through Emotional numbness isn't a defect.

People often come to therapy expecting to talk about what happened. They've carried the story for years. They think that if they can just say it out loud, piece it together, make sense of it, something will shift. And then they sit down, start talking, and it's like the ground gives way. The room tilts. Their chest tightens. They dissociate, or they flood, or they leave the session feeling worse than when they arrived. This isn't failure. It's information. It tells us that th

You know you need to leave the relationship. You know the job is draining you. You know the pattern isn't working. And yet. Something inside you pulls back. Finds reasons to stay. Sabotages the decision. You start, then stop. You feel motivated, then numb. You make a plan, then forget why it mattered. It's not that you lack willpower. It's not that you're broken or lazy or weak. It's that a part of you is doing exactly what it was designed to do: protect you. And until we und

You're moving through the day. Getting things done. Responding when people talk to you. But underneath it all, there's nothing. No joy. No sadness. No anger. Just a flat, grey quiet where something used to be. People ask if you're okay, and you say yes. Because technically, nothing is wrong. You're functioning. But you're also not really here. And that quiet, hollow feeling? It scares you more than you let on. Emotional numbness isn't a sign that you're broken. It's a sign th

You can tell the story. You know what happened. You've thought about it, talked about it, maybe even analysed it to pieces. You understand why it affected you. You can see the patterns it left behind. And yet your body hasn't caught up. Your heart still races when someone raises their voice. Your chest tightens in spaces that should feel safe. You freeze when you need to speak up. You feel exhausted for no reason you can name. Your nervous system is still living in a version