Writing about my feels is hard, really hard, to the point where I don’t know if it’s possible. I don’t understand how to inject my words with emotion like I see so many others do. I’m envious of that, I remember there was a time where I was able to project my thoughts through scenes in my mind, as if from a movie, that sometimes I would try to transpose into a drawing or script. There was perfect clarity then and I don’t know where that went, I don’t understand why but in the past couple of months I’ve entered into an emotional fog. The only thing that’s been clear to me is the frustration that I feel when I look at an illustration, writing, recording that I made only to see that there is not a single trace of evidence that a human touched it. The only way that I can interact through the world is cliché and patterns, conversations are automated, where I go, and what I do is all for the sole purpose of making sure I don’t stop the next day. I know there is something that I wish I was saying that I’m not, my frustration is evident of that.
Even when I cry it’s as though it’s just another thing I have to do, I know what makes me feel sick, sad, and angry, and I give myself doses of each every so often for the sole purpose that I gave above. Any progress I make, or any regressions I experience are not new. I don’t know if this is detachment, or suppression, but I’m tired of it.
The running theme of the Unruly Bodies class is that the individual deserves the choice to do what they want with their bodies. This idea has caused a lot of internal turbulence for me, should I have more control over myself? Who does my body belong to? If it is my body belongs to me, I can do what I want with it. I’ve done that, specifically this past week I’ve become increasingly considerate to only myself, and I hated it. It seems like I really don’t care about myself because I treated me like shit. I didn’t clean myself, I didn’t feed myself well, I avoided people, and I didn’t commit to any responsibilities that I didn’t want to. It was pretty awful. This wasn’t brought about by this class by the way, I’ve been feeling increasingly separated from others, and that’s left me with less reason to consider them.
I don’t mean for this to be an argument against the value of self autonomy, I especially don’t want this post to be seen as an argument to justify the removal of self autonomy at a systemic level, which is what we are often discussing. I don’t think anyone’s idea of self autonomy is the isolation and separation that I’m writing about.
I didn’t write anything above with a purpose in mind, I’ve read it back and come some conclusions. I need other people, without knowing my wellbeing is a concern for other people I won’t care for myself. I’ve also realized now that I’ve been taking that for granted my whole life until now. This isn’t to say I would rather live to meet other peoples expectations, but the pressure to do better for the people I care about has value that I can’t deny. That being said, I have also made sure to not make close connections to anyone here. I have a feeling that everyone I meet here will disappear when I leave, it’s not a certainty, and it’s not something I have no control over, but the feeling is strong.
Unruly Bodies 
I think I felt sort of like this when my Depression was at its worst. It was a while back, so it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember feeling completely hollow. When someone said something nice or funny, I had to figure out how to move all my face muscles the right way and hope that it resembled a smile. Joy didn’t come naturally — in fact, it rarely came at all. All the negative emotions did come though, and I would often seek them out just to feel something. I didn’t have any direction; I was just moving through my days because I was supposed to. I don’t know if what you described in your post quite aligns with my experience, but I wanted to share it in case you can relate. Knowing you’re not alone can be a huge relief.
I know people say “things will get better” and it always feels meaningless, but I think that’s partially because that’s not the full story. Most of the time, things don’t get better completely on their own. You have to work at it, which is hard when the whole problem is not having any energy or drive. But it really is possible. I don’t know you and I’m not in any way qualified to give medical advice, so I’ll just tell you what helped me (aside from seeing a therapist, which is the advice everyone gives — and rightfully so, therapy is amazing). It sounds really silly, but I started keeping a gratitude journal. It sucked a lot at first; it felt pointless on good days and downright painful on bad ones. But the act of forcing myself to think of new things to be thankful for every day kinda rewired my brain. I started looking for things to be grateful for and making a mental note to write them down later, and it became a habit. I started writing down everything that made me laugh too, since moments of genuine laughter were basically what I lived for. By the time I finished the journal, I realized I felt like a person again.
I hope this can help you in some way — even if our experiences are totally different, just know that some stranger cares about you.