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I haven’t posted in almost three months because I feel I have nothing to say. Well, at least nothing I think people want to hear. Maybe it’s the result of living in a social media-based world, wanting to be more positive and feeling that writing about unsettling or unpleasing topics and feelings is ever so uncool.
In that vein, I thought I’d go ahead and post Something About Nothing. Like Seinfeld, the self-described TV show “about nothing.” But there is always something to be found in nothing. A silver lining to every dark cloud.
Sometimes I long to feel nothing, and sometimes my prayers are answered. My old friend Anhedonia creeps in, putting my feelings on ice, wrapping me up in a delicious blanket of numbness and don’t-give-a-damn. Merriam Webster defines anhedonia as “a psychological condition characterized by inability to experience pleasure in normally pleasurable acts.” This condition also makes you impervious to emotional pain, at least that’s how it works for me.
Nothing. The absence of something. The absence of stuff, baggage, fears, sadness, happiness, inhibitions, guilt. I’m riffing here.
On another note, grief is settling into my bones, becoming more a part of who I am,
not a negative, fearful thing. Merely a thing that exists, like the scar on my palm after I cut it on a cat food can. I’m a slow healer, so it will always be there.
I am making plans for this year, not resolutions, but plans. Resolutions is too strident a word for me.
Nothing is part of my plan. To let nothing stand in my way. To let nothing tear me apart. To let nothing and no one tell me who I am or what I can and cannot do. To enjoy the entirety of life and accept the love I receive without question, without trying to control it or judge it. To embrace life in all its nothingness and something-ness. To take NOTHING for granted.
Nothing can be a good thing.
Suburban Hobo 
One day at a time; or else it gets too overwhelming. Life.
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I get this, deep down in my bones, I get this. Both the grief and the nothing. Grieve, and not, at your own pace, no matter what anyone else says.
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Thank you, April.
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Fascinating, and doable as long as emotion is kept out of every part of every thing you tackle. There will be tests. Nothing can indeed be a good thing as long as you maintain an “always tested, never beaten” stance. Highest and Best!
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Thank you, Jen!
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You are very welcome!
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Sounds like zen, Erica. A spiritually healing place.
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Thank you, Matt!
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Best wishes for the coming year. Peace and comfort.
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Sometimes a day of nothing can be more than a day of something, it just depends upon the angle you look through… jc
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Erica, I hope the nothingness gives you time for healing without hurting too much. You’re a very special person and it’s your own path to choose. I pray the path brings you good people, creatures and experiences along the way. 💗
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I love everything you express and how you express it in this writing. And that last paragraph is pure wisdom. Nothing can be everything. ❤
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I think it sounds like you’re on your path to healing, even though it doesn’t feel like this magical relief. What you said about grief becoming a part of you – I so relate. This past year, I lost my mother and my dear cat friend Ali, and it’s like that – the grief is part of me, and some days it opens and bleeds, sort of like a scar forming but not quite there yet. Thanks for always being so honest here and showing your scar. It’s so hard, but I hope it brings you some catharsis. Thinking of you.
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Alysa, I am so sorry for your loss. Sending warm thoughts to you and your family. xo
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