Dear Robi:

I just submitted two posts about emotional suppression, or emotional alienation, mine (in my new thread: ‘Our World is a Complex Mess of PTSD”), and another member’s emotional suppression (in his thread: “Alienation or abandonment looking for insight”).

I then decided to compare your very first post on tiny buddha, the one from June 8, 2018 (will be 7 years ago, in two days!) with your latest post on June 4, 2025. As I did, I realized something profound, something that to my best memory, we never discussed. (Maybe we did? I don’t remember): Emotional Suppression.

I now understand what’s behind the last paragraph I wrote to you in my reply two days ago: “While I was reading your recent post, I had this image in my mind, that of you in the storage room, minimizing the screen when your parents interrupted your privacy. I had the image of you, fast forward to now, still minimizing the screen, the screen representing YOU, Your Life, what You care about.”-

You’ve been so expressive and detailed throughout the years, here, in the forums, that I didn’t realize that the screen you minimized represents your emotional landscape. You minimized, aka suppressed your own emotions.

Comparing your first and latest posts: Seven years ago, what you shared was a story of deep self-reflection, longing, and a struggle to find meaning. You recounted your life—from a childhood spent in passive routines, to discovering photography in high school and the confidence it gave you, to relationships that left you questioning yourself. Your move to Spain felt like an opportunity for change, but despite moments of happiness, you remained caught in cycles of avoidance, insecurity, and emotional suppression.

Your relationship with your girlfriend brought both love and conflict, yet your personal stagnation—financial dependence, career uncertainty, and lack of direction—kept you feeling lost. Stuck in emotional exhaustion and self-doubt, you were desperately searching for clarity, purpose, and a way forward, yet felt unable to break free from the patterns that have kept you isolated and unfulfilled.

Your words reflected a powerful struggle with identity, self-worth, and uncertainty, and beneath it all, a desperate hope to find clarity. You repeatedly described feeling trapped in cycles of inertia—wanting change but not knowing how to make it happen, feeling frustrated with your inaction but also paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong move. Your history of escapism (video games, weed, passive existence) suggests years of suppressing your own needs and desires.

You weren’t just lost—you wanted to be found. You wanted to start living, but didn’t know how to begin.

While you shared your experiences in great detail, you often described emotions as if they are distant from you, rather than something you were fully connected to.

You questioned your own feelings constantly, saying things like: “What if I don’t love her?” and “But what if I do and this questioning is happening just because I don’t know what I want?”

Your uncertainty about your own emotions suggests you didn’t fully recognize or trust your feelings, which can be a sign of self-alienation—a disconnect between your inner self and your lived experience.

You were very detailed in your storytelling, but you often described events rather than deeply processing your emotions.

Your numbing behaviors (weed, gaming, passivity) suggest that you spent years avoiding emotions, even if you’ve been writing about them extensively.

Fast forward 7 years to your most recent post, there are clear commonalities between your first and your latest one. Your core struggles remain, but there are also signs of progress, self-awareness, and a stronger push toward change.

In his first post, you said: “I just exist and search for my direction.” Two days ago, you wrote: “Where the f** was I all this time? Where did I channel my energy?”-

You are still searching for purpose, but now you are actively questioning where your energy has gone instead of just passively accepting your stagnation.

In 2018, you said: “I feel like I don’t want to do anything… But I’m frustrated for not doing anything.”

In your latest post, you described: “What if you have no vision at all? My vision changes so often that I cannot hold on to any plan.”-

Earlier, you recognized your inaction, but now you are analyzing why your vision is inconsistent—digging deeper into the root of your struggles.

In your first post, you admitted: “I feel jealous… I feel like a failure… I feel lost.”

Two days ago, you wrote: “Feels like a long corridor with pictures on the walls encompassing all those times I’ve tried but didn’t change.”-

The self-judgment is still present, but now it is more reflective—you are seeing your patterns with greater awareness.

Seven years ago, you described yourself as stuck in a passive routine—doing nothing despite wanting change.

Now, you are genuinely making efforts, saying: “I’ve tried mastering my time better, meeting more people, watching less movies, sticking to routines that boost my mood and clarity.”-

You may feel disappointed, but the fact that you keep trying is a major shift from your past avoidance patterns.

You wrote 2 days ago: “Recently it’s been harder and harder to accept my old programming.”-

This is huge progress— you are recognizing how your patterns formed, how they have held you back, and how you need to break them.

Seven years ago, you felt lost but didn’t question why. Now, you are actively analyzing your own conditioning.

Earlier, you turned to escapism—gaming, weed, avoiding responsibility. Now, you write: “Perhaps the roots haven’t had the chance to do their thing. There isn’t one area in my life where I feel rooted, stable, or sure of anything.”-

This suggests a shift— you are no longer only trying to escape pain, but starting to recognize the need to build a solid foundation.

Your reference to The Truman Show suggests you realize you have the power to leave the “cell” you have been trapped in.

Seven years ago, you accepted stagnation as part of your life. Now, you see that you have the choice to break free—but you need to overcome your mental barriers to do so.

While your core struggles remain, your self-awareness has deepened, and you are starting to shift from passive longing to active questioning and effort. You are on the edge of transformation, but still needs to trust yourself and your ability to sustain change.

“There isn’t one area in my life where I feel rooted, stable, or sure of anything.” (June 4, 2025)-

To feel rooted, stable, and sure of things, you would need to reconnect with your emotions, bringing them out of suppression and into the light of expression. That sense of stability doesn’t come from control—it comes from allowing emotions to take their space, to be fully acknowledged rather than minimized like a background window on a screen.

You once minimized that screen, keeping emotions at a distance. Now, it might be time to maximize it—let it open fully, sit with it, and see what unfolds. There are ways to do that, and I’d be happy to explore them with you. Let me know if this resonates. 💛

Anita

Dear Ben:

I’ve been reading your posts on your other thread, and I find myself feeling both concerned and deeply impressed by the progress you’ve made.

Three days ago, in your most recent post, you wrote:

“I do think about physical suicide by times but as long as I don’t suppress it it’s fine. I think it’s normal and I don’t give it too much weight. I don’t like to tell you because I don’t want you to worry. I have to speak the truth.

“I learned that I hate myself so I had to open up to it and allow myself to hate myself. I had to be a mother who accept her child this way. And I haven’t had it since.”-

Your words reflect a powerful emotional strategy—one that few people find on their own:

* You don’t reject your pain—you acknowledge it.

* You accept your emotions instead of suppressing them.

* You “mother” yourself, offering warmth and understanding instead of punishment.

* Through this acceptance, something inside you shifted.

This emotional approach aligns with radical acceptance—a psychological practice that helps people cope with intense emotions by acknowledging and allowing them rather than fighting them.

Your sentence, “I have to speak the truth,” stood out to me deeply. This has been my longing for so long—to speak my truth.

Over five months ago, when you started this thread, you wrote:

“I noticed that when I meet someone with the glassy alienated look in their eyes. It affects me very much… I feel alienated too and I worry big for the person even if I don’t know her… I wonder what this needs from me… Maybe there is a different word for it. Maybe a Pali or Sanskrit word?”-

I wasn’t able to respond to this back then the way I am able to now. So, here’s my response today:

When you see the glassy, alienated look in someone’s eyes, it deeply affects you. Their self-alienation awakens your own. Even if you don’t know them, you feel a strong concern, as though their pain is calling out to you.

This reaction isn’t random—it’s tied to your own history of emotional suppression. You recognize alienation in others because you have experienced it yourself. The way you were forced to push down your emotions created a gap between your inner feelings and your ability to express them.

So when you see that distant, disconnected look in someone else, it stirs something in you—a reminder of your own suppressed emotions, a longing to understand, and maybe even a question: What does this ask of me?

You asked if there’s a Pali or Sanskrit word for this feeling, and there are words that might resonate with your experience:

Saṃvega (संवेग) – A deep, unsettling realization of alienation, urgency, and disillusionment with life.

Dvesha (द्वेष) – Aversion or suppression of emotions, linked to self-rejection or avoidance.

Āsava (आसव) – Mental effluents or old emotional habits that keep you trapped in suffering—suppressed feelings could be seen as āsavas, lingering beneath the surface.

Vedanā (वेदना) – The raw experience of feeling something deeply before it’s suppressed or distorted.

In your second post on this thread, you wrote:

“My psychologist, we mainly do gestalt psychology (inner child), said that she thinks I’m growing up. I have her since one month. Since then my impulses are less strong. I need less sleep. I don’t really feel tired anymore. When I tell myself I love you, I feel it. When I give myself a hug, I feel it.” (Dec 16, 2024)-

I wonder—do you still see that psychologist? I hope you do, because she seems to have had a deeply positive impact on you—helping you connect with your emotions in ways that feel real and healing.

More about Alienation (the first word in the title of your thread), self-alienation, more precisely: it is the feeling of being disconnected from oneself—one’s emotions, identity, or true desires. It happens when a person suppresses, ignores, or rejects parts of oneself, often to fit external expectations or avoid painful feelings.

It can look like: feeling emotionally numb or detached from your own experiences, feeling like you’re living someone else’s life, no longer knowing what you truly feel, struggling to trust your own instincts or make decisions confidently.

Self-alienation can stem from emotional suppression, past trauma, or external pressure to be someone you’re not. Healing involves reconnecting with your emotions, accepting all parts of yourself, and allowing yourself to feel without fear.

In my next post, I will share about my own experience with self-alienation and reconnection. I’m posting it separately in case it might be difficult for you to read—so please feel free to skip it if you need to.

Anita

And please feel free to post anytime, if it helps with the grieving process.

Wishing you the best!

You’re very welcome, Alessa, and no worries at all about any delay. I can only imagine how busy you are with your studies, exams, and the incredible dedication of being a mother—and that’s just two things! Your thoughts about your son are truly beautiful. Take care! ❤️

Anita

Dear Ben:

Your words, June 2023–July 2024: “I do not have space for her pain in these situations because of my own pain… I talk about a situation where I showed myself vulnerable last year… and instead of being listened to, she started with her pain… She was too close. There was not enough space for me… By not expressing myself I protect my Mom from worrying, or meet her need for control… I need a strong mother. I need an anchor… I think I want her to really see me and see me equal… I do not wish to be controlled… It sometimes feels like that I am my mom, and myself is this thing I can’t control.”

Dec 18, 2024: “I might get overwhelmed being held by other people. I have been looking for a family all my life. Maybe I could find this delusive family in the Amazonian rain forest. Or I wait till I can create it in myself. I grieve about this inside. It’s something which is giving me a hard time. I’m tired of chasing dreams.”

Jan 28, 2025: “I need to befriend myself.”

Growing up, your mother was volatile, controlling, highly emotional. She was not strong enough or emotionally regulated to be the solid anchor you needed. In order to create, so to speak, the strong mother you desperately needed, you sacrificed your child-self—diminishing your own emotional expression to make space for hers.

Whenever you expressed pain or vulnerability, she overreacted, making it about her own emotions. This robbed you of the space to exist emotionally—to be validated, understood, and allowed to feel without guilt. Over time, you learned that revealing your emotions meant triggering her overwhelm, so you adapted by silencing yourself, making emotional suppression a survival mechanism.

The Harm of Suppressing Emotion:

* Chronic emotional exhaustion—constantly holding back, filtering, or numbing your own feelings.

* Loss of self-trust—never fully knowing if your emotions are “allowed” or justified.

* Detachment from identity—becoming someone shaped by others’ emotional needs rather than your own natural experiences.

* Fear of vulnerability—connection carries the risk of further suppression, losing yourself, or feeling controlled again.

* Emotional death—the haunting fear of being viewed as false, inauthentic, and ultimately losing yourself entirely.

The Path to Healing:

Your words about searching for family, grieving inside, and being tired of chasing dreams show how deeply you long for something real, something that honors who you are. But the most powerful thing you said was: “I need to befriend myself.”

This holds the key. Healing isn’t about finding something external to complete you—it’s about learning to stand in your own emotions without fear, without shaping them to fit someone else’s comfort.

Befriending yourself might mean:

* Allowing your emotions without needing to prove they’re valid.

* Honoring your needs even when they feel small or quiet.

* Unlearning the idea that you must sacrifice yourself in order to be seen.

* Reclaiming emotional space, knowing that your feelings matter.

You deserve to take up space—not just for your pain, but for joy, love, and self-trust. You are not wrong for feeling deeply. You are not weak for needing something real. And you are not alone.

I want you to know, Ben, that my motivation for reaching out here, in this post, isn’t about fixing you or leading you somewhere you haven’t chosen. I care about the expression of the suppressed, because I’ve experienced it myself. I’ve been where words were swallowed instead of spoken, where emotions felt like a burden instead of a right. What I offer is not advice from a detached place—it’s what I’ve learned in my own journey. If anything resonates, take it. If not, discard it. My only wish is that you never feel alone in this process.

I want to close with a writing exercise that might help. Let’s call it “Giving Voice to the Unspoken”-

– Step 1: Write Without a Filter

Set a timer for 10–15 minutes and write freely without stopping. Don’t worry about grammar, making sense, or judging your thoughts—just let your emotions flow onto the page. Start with:

* “If my emotions could speak freely, they would say…”

Let the words come as they are—anger, grief, exhaustion, longing, frustration, hope—whatever needs to surface.

– Step 2: The Suppressed Dialogue

Write two voices: one representing the suppressed emotions (pain, anger, resentment, things left unsaid), the other representing the part of you that silences or suppresses them (self-doubt, fear, survival mode).

Let these voices speak to each other. Example:

* Suppressed voice: “I am tired of carrying the weight of unspoken words.” * Suppressing voice: “But expressing them might make things worse.”

Let both sides speak honestly—this helps externalize inner conflict and reveal emotional truths you may not realize.

– Step 3: A Letter to Yourself

After writing, pause and reflect. Then, write a letter to yourself, as if you were talking to a close friend who struggles with suppression. Offer kindness, validation, and permission to feel.

* “You are allowed to feel this. Your emotions don’t need justification. They just are.”

.. In fact, I in tend to do this exercise myself in a few minutes from now, in my new thread: “Our World is a Complex Mess of PTSD”. You are welcome to read it, and comment about it there- if you so choose

I’m here, Ben, I care and I am always happy to listen as you walk this path. 💛

Warmly, Anita