Sometimes, it’s like the world forgets you exist.

“There is a specific kind of quiet that feels less like peace and more like being erased.”

This space at Not Just Me is dedicated to exploring how we move beyond the isolation of these conditions. This post explores how we can bridge that gap through integration and Mind Body Wellness.

Not Just Me : Finding Myself Beyond Anxiety and Depressionhttps://notjustmeproject.blogspot.com/

The Invisibility of the Shutdown

We often talk about anxiety as a "loud" experience—racing hearts, intrusive thoughts, frantic energy, and a desperate need to fix everything at once. But there is another side to the survival spectrum that is rarely discussed because, by its very nature, it is silent. It is the feeling that you have become transparent. You sit in a crowded cafe, and it feels like the noise is passing right through you. You walk through a grocery store, and the eyes of others seem to slide off you as if you aren't there. You post a piece of your heart on social media, and the silence that follows feels like a cold, digital confirmation that you’ve finally disappeared.

At The Soojz Project, we call this the "Ghost State." It is that haunting sensation where it seems like the world has collectively forgotten you exist. But I want to tell you something critical: this isn't a social failure, and it isn't a sign that you are unlovable or inherently "less than." It is a biological state of extreme protection called Dorsal Vagal Shutdown. You aren't being forgotten; you are being hidden by your own nervous system.

Loneliness doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes it feels like standing still while the world keeps moving past you.

The Science of Disconnection: Why We "Unplug"

To understand why you feel invisible, we have to look at the Polyvagal Theory. Most people are familiar with the "Fight or Flight" response—the frantic, high-energy state. But when a threat feels too big, too constant, or too overwhelming to outrun or outfight, the nervous system has a third, older option: Shutdown.

Imagine your nervous system as a house. When there is a minor surge, a fuse blows (Anxiety). But when the entire grid is threatened, the main breaker flips to prevent the whole house from catching fire. This is the Dorsal Vagal state. Your body pulls its energy inward to preserve your most basic internal resources. Your heart rate slows, your blood pressure drops, and your voice loses its melodic inflection.

Biologically, you are "playing dead" to survive. The hidden cost of this state is that it severs your sense of Social Engagement. Because your system has "unplugged" its external sensors to stay safe, you lose the feeling of being connected to the world. You feel invisible because, on a physiological level, you have retracted your presence from the environment to save your life.

Related 

1. On the Science of Shutdown (Polyvagal Theory)

• The Polyvagal Institute: What is Polyvagal Theory?

• Psychology Today: The Polyvagal Theory: The New Science of Safety and Trauma

2. On Functional Freeze & Dissociation

• Healthline: What Is Dissociation? Signs, Symptoms, and Treatment

• Verywell Mind: Understanding the Freeze Response

3. On Somatic Reconnection & Glimmers

• The Gottman Institute: Small Things Often: The Power of Glimmers

The Loneliness of the "Frozen"

The tragedy of the shutdown state is that it creates a painful, self-fulfilling prophecy. When you are in a functional freeze, you aren't sending out the subtle, unconscious social cues that invite others in—the "micro-expressions," the eye contact, the warmth in the tone of voice. To those around you, you might look distant, bored, "spacey," or unapproachable.

Inside, you might be longing for someone to reach out, to notice the flicker of life behind your eyes, and to pull you back into the light. But because you look "closed for business" on the outside, people often give you "space." In your state of shutdown, you interpret this space as abandonment.

This creates a heavy internal narrative: "The world has forgotten me. I don't matter. I am a ghost." This narrative is what I call the "Dorsal Fog." It distorts your perception, making you believe that the disconnection is a permanent fact of your identity rather than a temporary, protective state of your biology. You aren't being forgotten; you are currently sitting behind a biological frosted window.

The Soojz Method: Gentle Re-Emergence

If you feel like a ghost today, the answer isn't to force yourself to be "loud" or to jump into a major social event. That will only feel like a threat to your already fragile system and push you deeper into the freeze. Instead, we use Micro-Glimmers—tiny, low-stakes "pings" of reality to prove to the body that it is safe to be seen again.

1. Sensory "Waking" (The Five Percent Rule)

The shutdown state is characterized by a dulling of the senses—a literal numbness. To come back, don't try to feel "everything." Try to feel five percent. Trace the outline of your own hand with one finger. Hold a piece of fruit and notice the coldness of the skin. Taste something with a sharp, clear flavor like a slice of lemon or a piece of ginger. These small data points tell your brainstem: "We are still here. We are still sensing. The world is safe enough to touch."

2. Non-Human Presence

If human interaction feels like too much of a "demand" on your energy, find a non-human object to "connect" with. Look at a plant in the corner of the room, a bird outside the window, or even the way the afternoon light hits the floorboards. Acknowledge that the object exists. In the simple act of observing the world, you are confirming that you are still a part of it. You are a witness, and witnesses exist.

3. The "I Am Here" Somatic Declaration

Place both feet flat on the ground. Press your heels down until you can feel the floor resisting you—the solid, unmoving earth. Place your hands on your thighs and feel the fabric of your pants. Say out loud, very softly: "I am in this room. The floor is holding me. I have a body." This isn't a "positive affirmation"; it’s a physical, undeniable fact. It helps the nervous system transition from the "hollow" feeling of the ghost state back into the "grounded" feeling of the present.

Lessons from the Fog: My Personal Testing

In my own life, I’ve experienced this "ghost state" most often during periods of heavy burnout or after a prolonged season of "functioning" too hard. I would find myself sitting in my studio, surrounded by instruments, yet feeling like I was miles away from my own hands. I would go days without speaking, convinced that if I disappeared completely, no one would notice. I felt like a spectator in my own life, watching the world move in high-definition while I remained in grayscale.

The breakthrough came when I realized I was waiting for the world to "find" me, but my nervous system was actually the one doing the hiding. I started using music—specifically the low, resonant vibrations of the Daegeum. I wouldn't even play a melody; I would just blow a single, long note and feel the vibration in my chest and throat.

That physical vibration acted like a gentle knock on the door of my shutdown state. It reminded me that I had a physical form, and that my form could create sound. I didn't need the world to remember me first; I needed to remember that I was still inhabiting my own skin. Once I re-connected with myself, the "frosted window" between me and the world began to clear.

Are you tired of defending your character? Learn why toxic people create a "fictional version" of you and how to finally stop editing their script. I wrote a guide on how to survive the "integration zone" of healing. Read it here: https://recoveringmeproject.blogspot.com/

Coming Back to Life: A Natural Conclusion

If you feel like the world has forgotten you today, please hear this: Your invisibility is a shield, not a sentence. Your body is doing its absolute best to protect you from a world that felt like "too much" for too long. It has put you in a quiet, safe room within yourself.

At The Soojz Project, we believe that the path back to connection isn't through a grand entrance, but through tiny, quiet steps of self-recognition. You don't have to be the loudest person in the room to exist. You don't have to be "productive" or "social" to be worthy of taking up space.

Breathe into the weight of your body right now. Feel the chair beneath you. Feel the air on your skin. You are not a ghost. You are a living, breathing being in a temporary state of rest. The fog will lift when your nervous system feels safe enough to let the light back in. Until then, I see you. You are here. You exist.

"If silence is the blueprint for growth, then this music is the air that fills the room. Quiet Peace : Back to Me was born from the realization that I am my own safe haven."