Alexithymia and the Audit: From the bricks of clinical labour to the wind of the birch trees

I’ve been sitting with a specific kind of silence lately, and I wanted to see if it resonates with others. I am 61 now, and since being diagnosed at 58, my audit of the last few years has led me back to a word that feels like a bit of a riddle: Alexithymia.
It’s a strange thing to say you’re beginning to feel a lack of feeling—it’s an oxymoron, I know—but it’s the only way I can describe the quiet weight I’ve carried since childhood.
I spent the weekend just gone working quite hard to architect a different post here, but this time round, I feel the need to try a different approach—one of doing by not doing. I want to start this conversation and then simply leave it running for people to make their own way with it.
For 25 years, I worked as a physiotherapist in high-pressure wards—ICU, stroke rehab, and chronic pain clinics. Looking back, I realise I was absorbing the bricks of other people’s pain and fear every single day while maintaining a professional Windows mask. I used to feel like I was behind a glass sheet—protected, but muted.
I realise now that my Alexithymia wasn’t a lack of feeling; it was a necessary survival strategy. My internal switchboard turned the volume down so far that I stopped feeling the breezes of subtle emotion just to survive the gale of everyone else's dysregulation. I’ve spent decades only noticing the bricks when they hit.
But lately, in this audit, I’m learning to lower that threshold. I had a moment this weekend where I just sat and watched the thin branches of a birch tree moving in the wind. I realised that my best life isn't about being fixed—it’s about thinning the canopy of that old emotional labour so I can finally start living authentically in the moment and feel the wind again.
I intend to use the experiences you share here to help me explore my own healing. If I can join in with the force of six ounces I will, but otherwise, I will let the thread find its own path.
The Question for the Group:

Has anyone else realized their numbness wasn't a flaw, but actually a long-term protection against a world that was just too loud to process? How are you learning to sense the subtle signals of your own life again?
Parents
  • I can resonate with this, from childhood to a degree but increasingly so through adolescence into adulthood. I'm now 57. Absorbing the bricks of other peoples pain, I like that description, although on reflection I didnt know what to do with it or how it should affect me. In respect of myself putting up a barrier of protection to block the hurt I didnt know how to deal with when caught up in situations effectively causing me to shutdown. Also spending 10 years as an EMT being exposed to lots of traumatic situations it may be survival mode that kicks in, or maybe I havent processed the situations properly especially if I process differently from your average joe.

    So I guess the numbness can be seen as long term protection but not yet sure how to change from shutting down to cope and prevent being overwhelmed.

Reply
  • I can resonate with this, from childhood to a degree but increasingly so through adolescence into adulthood. I'm now 57. Absorbing the bricks of other peoples pain, I like that description, although on reflection I didnt know what to do with it or how it should affect me. In respect of myself putting up a barrier of protection to block the hurt I didnt know how to deal with when caught up in situations effectively causing me to shutdown. Also spending 10 years as an EMT being exposed to lots of traumatic situations it may be survival mode that kicks in, or maybe I havent processed the situations properly especially if I process differently from your average joe.

    So I guess the numbness can be seen as long term protection but not yet sure how to change from shutting down to cope and prevent being overwhelmed.

Children
No Data