Fragility in A transparent lockbox

Something I am always trying to understand is the depth of my emotional vulnerability. So many times, I feel so fragile and like I can be seen through, but it’s only within my own little world. When I interact with others, I am guarded and relatively tough, really quite calm and don’t care about much. But when I’m home alone in my bed, it feels like I am absorbing everything that is around me. I’m sensitive to the lights, the feel of the blankets, how loud the music is, and I just feel so raw like my soul is bleeding out into my hands, and I just let myself feel it. The dichotomy is what is so confusing to me, how I can be so calm and collected outside of my comfort zone, but when I can finally rest, I feel as though I’m made of glass.