For a phenomenal poem, one that feels somewhat related to this experience, please read Jeffrey McDaniel’s The Quiet World, here.

Sometimes, I feel like I have no words. When I try to explain this phenomenon - some people interpret my attempts as fishing for compliments on my ability to eloquently express myself.1 I say that I can’t seem to be able to explain my state of mind and people respond with reassurance and validation, compliments about my ability to communicate, and I’m often left feeling misunderstood or unheard.2

Sometimes, I feel like I have no words. I cycle through logical explanations to rule out reasons for my brain’s short circuiting. Am I hungry? I’m bad at interpreting my body’s signals. Do I need to eat a snack? Do I have to pee? When is the last time I went to the bathroom? I never know that I have to pee until my bladder feels like it’s about to explode. Am I dehydrated? At work, we have a timer to drink water every hour.3 At home, I forget sometimes. Am I tired? How much sleep did I get last night? Was it restful? How many times did I wake up in the middle of the night? This is all basic information, why can’t I remember anything about myself? I inspect my brain like a scientist with a puzzle, curious and determined to find an answer; frustrated when I can’t figure it out.

Sometimes, I feel like I have no words. On these days, in these moments, friends ask me how I’m doing, and I don’t have an answer. It’s happened in therapy too. It’s okay, people like to say, you can tell me anything, as if my inability to correctly describe my emotional state is a lie to cover up that I don’t want to talk about something. I get even more frustrated when people try to guess what might be wrong. In my experience, I don’t know is not the correct answer to how are you, especially if I’m talking to a fixer.4 If I don’t come up with a satisfactory answer quickly enough, an answer will be assigned to me based on my body language and facial expressions.

Sometimes, I feel like I have no words. This is a temporary problem. I try not to get too frustrated with myself, but it is my experience that if I don’t speak for myself, other people will speak for me, and other people don’t always know or understand my experience, and also don’t always have my best interests at heart. Losing language makes me feel incredibly unsafe.

Sometimes, I feel like I have no words. Sometimes, I’m disoriented and disconnected both from my physical body and my mind. During these times, my expressive face5 might communicate something to people around me, but I have no actual emotional connection to what my body language might be saying.6

Sometimes, I feel like I have no words. During these times, I am grateful for my journaling practice, which sustains a tether between me, myself, and I. I am also grateful for my movement practice, which allows me to return back to my body with a soft landing.7

Sometimes, I have no words. In these instances, I want to hang a sign around my neck that accurately describes my state of mind. Out of order. Closed for construction. Temporarily out of office. Please allow five to seven business days for response. Thank you for your patience.