There are some days—sometimes even weeks—when I feel completely detached from everyone, the world, and even myself. During these periods, I can’t bring myself to check messages, scroll through social media, or meet up with friends. It’s not that I’m unaware of this distance; if anything, I’m so aware that it often fills me with guilt.

I always assumed this feeling would fade, yet it keeps returning, almost unconsciously, like a stubborn winter cold. Each time, it feels as if I’ve forgotten what it is—and each time, I’m surprised by these distinct, persistent emotions.

I’m not sure if this is my body telling me I need a break, or if it’s simply the deepest part of my introverted self craving solitude. This feeling can last for days, sometimes weeks. During those days, I lose myself in my hobbies. I focus on my work, my studies, the things I love, and I actually sleep on time. I still feel exhausted, but somehow lighter than before.

Still, when people ask me to meet up or when I have to go somewhere, I feel so anxious I could cry. Over time, that anxiety softens into longing. I miss people—not the ones I see every day, but those I truly feel connected with. I don’t see them often, which makes me miss them even more. And yet, even in that longing, I can’t bring myself to reach out.

In those moments, I wonder: where did it go wrong? Or perhaps nothing went wrong at all, and this is simply a rhythm I haven’t yet learned to follow.

Why am I distancing myself from the world? Is this my form of hibernation? Perhaps. I feel unsettled and irritated—a tension I can’t ignore. I hope that this season, answers will be found.