I ready a book called the Molecules of Emotion, by Candace Pert. She's a brain scientist. It's extremely interesting for many reasons (a cool biography, too). But the reason it came to mind after reading your post is that she talks a lot about the way that the chemistry of mood happens. Essentially (in my memory of the book), our states of mind are some addictive. If we develop a habit of depression, or joy for that matter, our body gradually becomes more adept at producing the chemicals that lead to those habit states of mind.
When something's going on that breaks the habit, there's an adjustment period in the body where the usual emotions are no longer arising, but nothing else is really taking their place. That flatness often feels like an aspect of healing to me, like the teeter totter is paused between depression and something else, not knowing where to go.
That feeling of looking from the other side of the glass can be a habit, too, as can the emotion of need to avoid others.
Sometimes it just takes a little bit of redirection to start the mood flowing the other way. Small steps forward and slightly to the side rather than plunging right in, just being aware that your adjusting your own brain chemistry in small doses, like twisting the knob on a radio to bring the station in clearer.
You're definitely not nobody. You're somebody who is tired and searching. That's OK. It's OK to be tired. It's OK to be searching. It's not so nice to be starved of something and feel unable to reach for it. That's why finding the small gestures of movement toward can be so helpful.