I Had to Shut It All Off
There’s a version of survival people don’t talk about enough.
Not the loud kind.
Not the kind that looks strong or inspiring from the outside.
The quiet kind.
The kind where you don’t fight back —
You shut down.
This poem came from a place where feeling everything became too much.
When you’re surrounded by lies, manipulation, or emotional pressure, your body doesn’t just cope — it adapts.
And sometimes, the only way it knows how to adapt… is by turning everything off.
Not because you want to.
Because you have to.
People often misunderstand numbness.
They call it cold.
Distant.
Unfeeling.
But numbness isn’t the absence of emotion.
It’s what happens when there’s been too much of it.
Too much pain.
Too many words that cut.
Too many moments where your mind and body just couldn’t keep up anymore.
So something inside you makes a decision:
“Enough.”
And it quiets everything.
In the poem, I describe it as switching off a light in a room I was still trapped in.
That’s exactly what it feels like.
You’re still there.
Still in the situation.
Still aware.
But the emotional connection to it… fades.
And that distance is what keeps you going.
Numb doesn’t break.
That line matters.
Because when you’re in survival mode, breaking isn’t an option.
So your system protects you the only way it can —
By shutting the door on what would otherwise destroy you.
But here’s the truth people don’t always see:
Numbness comes with a cost.
You don’t just shut off pain —
You shut off everything.
Connection.
Joy.
Softness.
Even parts of yourself.
And that’s the part that lingers.
The part where you know those feelings aren’t gone… just buried.
Waiting.
This poem isn’t about giving up.
It’s about what it takes to stay.
To stay alive.
To stay sane.
To make it through something that could have taken everything from you.
If you’ve ever felt like you had to shut everything down just to cope —
You’re not broken.
You adapted.
And one day, when it’s safe enough…
You’ll feel again.
Not all at once.
Not perfectly.
But in your own time.
Until then —
Survival is enough.
Thank you for reading
Your DislexicPoet 🖤