dolorblindness – n. the frustration that you’ll never be able to understand another person’s pain, only ever searching their face for some faint evocation of it, then rifling through your own experiences for some slapdash comparison, wishing you could tell them truthfully, “I know exactly how you feel.”
I’ve been lucky and blessed in life, with many things going my way and relatively few big obstables or painful moments. I’ve had some, but many less than a lot of people I know. I’ve also had plenty of success (by my definition) in life.
As a result, I think I run into dolorblindness regularly when I run into someone that’s had a difficult event. Losing a loved one, dealing with a health crisis, losing their job, or some other event that creates a lot of pain in individuals. I feel empathy and sadness for them, but I’m often struggling to understand the feelings because I haven’t felt them.
Most of the time.
I often won’t say that I understand because I don’t. Sometimes I do, but often I express support, offer help, or just give them a hug.
Whether you really know how someone feels or are experiencing dolorblindness, I hope you be kind, have compassion, and support those struggling in life.
From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

