Some days, it doesn’t feel like sadness. It’s not even stress. It’s just… nothing.
A heavy, hollow kind of quiet. You wake up, go through the motions, and wonder, “Is this all there is?”
If that’s where you are, you’re not alone. Many people across Eastern Virginia—from Norfolk to the Northern Neck—are carrying this silent weight. You might trace it to a loss or a season of overextending yourself. Or maybe there’s no clear reason at all. That emptiness is real, and it deserves attention.
What Emptiness Feels Like
Emptiness rarely arrives with alarms. It’s subtle. You may feel detached from people you love, notice that the things you used to enjoy don’t land the same, or hear yourself say, “I don’t feel like myself.” Sometimes it looks like holding a steady job, showing up for family, and smiling at church—while something inside has gone dim.
Part of why this shows up so often right now: many Americans report feeling increasingly disconnected. The U.S. Surgeon General has warned that loneliness and isolation affect a large share of adults and carry significant mental and physical health risks—context that helps explain why “numb” can become a default setting.
Why You Might Be Feeling This Way
There isn’t one cause. Emptiness can grow out of emotional burnout, unresolved grief, or big transitions like retirement, divorce, or a child leaving home. Biological and psychological factors matter, too: depression doesn’t always look like tears. It can show up as fatigue, irritability, sleep changes, trouble concentrating, or a persistent “flatness.” These are recognized symptoms—and they’re signals to get support, not to “push through.” (source)
The wider world also weighs on us. In the American Psychological Association’s Stress in America 2024 survey, adults across age groups identified the economy and housing costs as top stressors, with 65% specifically calling out housing costs. In Virginia, a statewide study found a gap of more than 300,000 deeply affordable rental units—pressure that filters into daily life for families across our region.
You’re Not Broken—and You’re Not Alone
Feeling empty doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. Emptiness can function as a signpost—not a dead end, but a turning point that invites you to notice what you miss, what you long for, and what still sparks even a flicker of light. The goal isn’t to force joy. It’s to make space for reconnection—slowly, kindly, one step at a time.
Small, Evidence-Informed Steps Toward Meaning
Step outside—on purpose.
Nature time isn’t a cure-all, but it reliably supports stress reduction and mood. Reviews and meta-analyses show short, regular exposure to natural environments can reduce depressive mood and improve well-being—even for people already struggling. In our area, that might look like a 20-minute walk on the Elizabeth River Trail, a loop around Lake Maury in Newport News, a quiet stretch at First Landing State Park, or sitting by the water in Cape Charles.
Write what’s true today.
If a blank journal page feels impossible, try a two-minute voice note or three lines on paper. Research on writing interventions suggests both expressive writing (naming what’s hard) and brief positive writing (savoring what’s good) can help; expressive writing can prompt useful cognitive shifts, while brief positive writing can lift mood. Try alternating them: one day “What felt heavy?” and the next “What helped, even a little?”
Do one small thing with others.
When meaning feels thin, shared effort can re-introduce purpose. Reviews of volunteering and health link contributions—even modest ones—with gains in social connection and mental well-being. Start tiny: an hour at a food pantry, a shoreline cleanup day, or helping at a community garden.
Mind your inputs.
If nonstop news or social feeds leave you numb or agitated, that’s data. Set a daily time window for checking news, pick one trusted source, and place your phone outside the bedroom at night. Many people notice lighter mood and better sleep within a week of reducing doom‑scrolling.
Re‑introduce rhythms that anchor you.
Eat at regular times. Hydrate. Keep a predictable bedtime. Walk the same short route each morning. These aren’t cosmetic; they give your nervous system cues of safety and predictability, which makes it easier to feel anything again.
Name what matters now.
Meaning rarely returns all at once. It often appears in fragments: a conversation, a meal cooked for someone else, a quiet prayer on a back porch, 10 minutes of gentle movement, a phone call returned. Keep a “three things” list each evening: something you noticed, something you did for someone, something that helped. Over time, patterns emerge—and so does direction.
When to Get Help
If emptiness has become your default setting, if you’re withdrawing from people you love, finding it hard to function, or having thoughts that life isn’t worth living, it’s time to reach out. These are not character flaws; they’re red flags that your mental health needs care. You don’t need a diagnosis to ask for help. You don’t have to be in crisis to deserve support. You just need to show up.
Where to start—right here in Region Five:
- Region Five Crisis Call Center (24/7): (757) 656‑7755
- 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call/text/chat)
- SAMHSA National Helpline: 1‑800‑662‑HELP (4357)
- Get Support from your member CSB
You’re Still Here—and That Matters
When life feels meaningless, it’s easy to believe the lie that you don’t matter. But you’re still here. That emptiness might be the soil for something new. It doesn’t have to define you. It can grow into clarity, resilience, even hope.
If you’d like someone to talk to today, call the Region Five Crisis Call Center at (757) 656‑7755 or dial 988 for immediate support. If you prefer, start small: step outside, write three lines, text a friend. Then take the next right step tomorrow.
