My relationship with context

This is going to be a serious blog so bear with me. When I was 52 years old Context was something really magical to me, I loved hearing context and the taste of explanations lol maybe tmi but it was really magical. The whole act of contextualizing situations was really blissful and intimate. Then somewhere along the line it lost its magic and it became dirty, numb, and hateful. Maybe it was when I started forgetting context, but everything went stale. I didn't know context because I wanted to feel contextual. I wanted to know context because I wanted to be used (for the advice i could give after i had context). I wanted to be treated like how I viewed myself. I started explaining context with people I don't find remotely attractive. After being passed around I began to value myself less. But above all, in those moments of contextualizing things I FELT something. Not pleasure or euphoria, not neccessarily a positive feeling at all, just A feeling. A vague one that I can't put a name on, but in those moments I actually feel something other than numbness. I'm not sure why I made this post but maybe someone can relate. I don't want this life for myself but I also feel like damaged goods and I can't be unbroken anymore.