A Life Hangover

December 2024 

It’s a cold grey and windy day. I can’t seem to get out of bed. At least I have no real motivation to do so. I have gotten up several times, only to return to my bed and crawl back under the covers. I don’t have much desire to do anything really. I’m tired and a little hungover. Not as much from drinking but just suffering from a life hangover.

Yes, the burdens that life can put on you are often similar to how you feel the morning after a big night out. Partying too much, until way too late.  This is exacerbated by circumstances.  When you suspect your life resembles the day you have woken up to. As this day which was, as I said, cold, wet, and grey.

It doesn’t help that I’m alone. But I can’t think of anyone I’d like to be with. Other than my wife. But I also don’t want her burdened by my emotional malaise. I don’t want her to catch my numbness. It’s like my life has a mute button that’s stuck. I try to pry it loose but don’t seem to have the energy to do so. Or know how.

Of course, as I lay there in my own pool of self-pity, I ponder how I got to this point.  How and why so many of us feel this way, at varying stages of our lives. And it follows that I also consider what makes life seem amazing at certain times.  Times when you can’t wait to jump out of bed and attack the day. And other times where whatever you do just doesn’t seem to matter. The days when there seems to be nothing that can elicit much of an emotional response.  Neither good nor bad. I tried to remember the last time I felt something.

Then I recalled a day not too long ago.  It was the day we had our first snow. My 4-year-old grandson woke up and was ecstatic. He could hardly wait to get out into it.  His joy was off the charts! He was so delighted that he could hardly stand it. He raced around our house in a delusional state of ecstasy! We bundled him up and sent him out on our snow-covered deck to play.

I felt quite happy just watching him enjoy such a simple thing.  Trying hard to catch individual snowflakes in his mouth.  Laughing as they hit him on the nose.  Making a snow angel with a smile and a laugh.  Throwing snowballs at imaginary villains.  As I watched, I just kept thinking, wouldn’t it be great if at our age we could get excited about something as simple as a flurry of snow? I was happy at that moment.  Decidedly so.  But I also wondered why joy like this seemed restricted to youth.

Then I remembered my mom’s “onion theory”.  She often expounded in her simple, straight forward way, that life was like an onion.  Over the course of its growth, layer after layer builds up to protect the onion. To keep it safe.  You peel away the layers and expose the delicate parts and it’s certain to bring tears. “It’s the same for people”, she would always say. “We need the layers”.

Simplistic yes.  But an accurate simile for most of us.  We are buried under layer after layer of “life”.  Or at least life’s gifts.  They can contain significant burdens. Hurdles we have painfully overcome. There are so many examples. Like parenting, maybe for far longer than you had planned to have to do so.  Friends and siblings pass through your life. Or maybe pass away. Your significant other may be changing and often show unfamiliar characteristics that can be alarming.  You realize their fragility, even their mortality, as well as your own. Grief is often a large part of this.

Aging in general can be quite a burden.  Creating life’s malaise. Nothing seems to excite you like it once did.  Why is this?  What makes everything seem so much less stimulating? Often, it can be much more painful. I’m retired, so I can’t hide the pain in my work anymore. Which is what we tend to do. Of course I am generalizing, but I think it’s fairly accurate that there are a lot of us out there that “fake it, to make it”. 

The fact is, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Way more than I dreamt I would.  But it doesn’t feel like I expected it to. Sometimes I don’t seem to feel anything at all.  I truly have very little passion for anything. Nothing is as funny as I want it to be. As moving. As exciting. Nothing makes me really happy, really scared, really sad or really… anything.  Why is this? 

As I pondered, I realized I needed to do a little research.  In doing so, I found a great deal to think about.  The fact of the matter is that as I guessed, many people report feeling disconnected from the world around them.  At least on occasion.  Often feeling “flat,” or like life is just on autopilot. Attitudes about events and people seem muted, or almost black and white.  Everything that was once so colorful, somehow has turned to grey.  A “numbness” some people call it.

So many people describe this sensation as “continually running on empty and feeling ungrounded”. The result of this lack of feeling is frequently having a hard time focusing, or even losing track of time throughout the day. This numbness can make it hard to connect with others, which creates loneliness or a sense of isolation in your life experience.

In professional terms this is called “Emotional numbness” and is most commonly associated with depression. But not always.  Its symptoms can include “dissociation or depersonalization — feelings of being disconnected from yourself, your emotions, or your surroundings”.  This is true across all age groups but has a higher incidence in people as they age.  A telling and accurate description. But once again, why?

I consulted a fine, well written and researched article from the Berkley Wellbeing Institute.  A very reputable institution.  They make it very clear that there is no one answer to this question. However, they state that experts have a pretty good theory. “Emotional numbness can occur when the limbic system is flooded with stress hormones. This is the area of the brain that deals with emotional regulation and memory. High-stress situations can tax our emotions and exhaust the physical body. The combination of the two can lead to a feeling of being drained and, consequently, numb.” So, there is a chemical component to this.

To the layman, this takes us back to my mother’s onion. Life can build up layers to help us deal with stress and pain.  To insulate us.  A kind of protection from pain.  We essentially do it to ourselves.  So, we need to find a way to stop adding layers.  Indeed, we need to find ways to peel off the layers we have created and enjoy the onion for what it is. It may be pungent and aromatic, but it is an amazing addition to almost everything. And with loads of inherent hidden benefits.  Just like life, when you let yourself live it!

Of course, researching and writing this has made me feel a little better.  A little less alone.  Ah, the cathartic nature of composition! I think it has reassured me that my symptoms are part of the process and realizing what is going on is an essential step in the journey of life. So, with that reckoning, I vowed to spend less time trying to insulate myself from feeling things and embrace what life throws at me.  To try to bring color back to my black and white existence.  Not all at once, but one day at a time. Make every day like the first snow of winter is to my grandson.

I think we all need to keep looking for snowflakes.  Peering up into a snowy sky and trying to catch the bits of joy as they drift downward.  Find ways to roll in life, like children roll in the snow with such joy and reckless abandon.  To embrace the cold, harsh realities of existence and build a snowman. Or make a snow angel.  Nothing cures life’s hangover like making impressions in the snow!  And why not?