Emotionally Checking Out
notes on distance formed within relationships
There is such a melancholic phenomenon about emotionally checking out of a relationship you find yourself in. It starts small, but usually, all arrows point to consistently feeling unheard by the person you share any bond with. Excuses come first, wearing the guise of empathy toward their situation, but what about yours? Rationale follows suit, which could also be a disservice to yourself when it comes to justifying your own behavior.
I believe this cycle can occur not as a result of the relationship with the other person, but the relationship you have with yourself.
We shouldn’t aim to change people, which is something I’ve toyed with the notion of endlessly. To change is to evolve, obviously, external experiences and influences will provoke the inevitable change that can be naturally measured by age. However, I wonder if the idea of not wanting to change anyone comes from a philosophical standpoint having to do with relinquishing control or purposely keeping us passive in the experience as an effort to discourage an active pursuit. I realize these may sound like the same thing, but they’re different even if just by splitting hairs.
Back to the phenomenon, I’m not much of a poet, but I have a way with words. In my experience emotionally checking out subjectively feels like…
Replaced effort, reducing what comes naturally to you and mirroring back what you’ve been receiving. It’s difficult actually, can feel like pushing a boulder uphill all the while pretending that level of exertion doesn’t make you sweat.
It feels like…
Neglect toward yourself, because now you’ve only begun to find a new way of investing in expressing your dissatisfaction just for it to fall upon deaf ears. When really that level of dedication could be poured right back into you.
It feels like…
Insanity, the most complex kind of it all, because doing the same thing twice and expecting a different result will surely be your demise. No matter how much you alter the steps, the expectation remains that you’ll finally be seen at the end of it.
It feels like…
Isolation, the borderline irreconcilable point. It can go one of two ways, you commit to abandoning yourself at that crossroad for the external bond or you return to yourself and forsake that behavior in favor of repairing your internal bond.
It feels like…
Comfort, you’ve learned to maintain yourself all on your own despite the bond. You do the things you’ve offered to share with the other person. You get yourself the things you’ve expressed you’ve wanted because receiving it from them is less about a gift and more about thought.
It feels like…
Indepedence, you’ve accepted that they are the way they are. Perhaps it took longer for you to realize that than others, but it doesn’t sadden you like it used to. You go about your life, which had its own rhythm before they stepped in. Was this journey set into motion to realign yourself? Did you bend yourself out of shape when they stepped in because that level of effort was what you’d hope to be reciprocated?
It feels like…
Shame. How long had I been participating in this behavior?
It feels like…
Confusion. Is it them or is it me? No, it’s them, but as a result of me? It can’t be them, but it sure would make it easier on them to absolve themselves if we pinned it all on me. They played some part in this, as did I.
It feels like…
Ego. Me, me, me, me, me… I am not the center of their world. They shouldn’t be the center of mine either, that is not how I should measure my love and appreciation for anyone.
When this cycle is said and done, it feels like I can’t talk to you. We can only reach each
other so far and it’s not quite the middle.
Though we speak the same language, we articulate ourselves in different emotional dialects that we’re still trying to learn. Or at least I hope we both are, I know I am…
And so the melancholy pursues…