One of the primary struggles in Martin’s experience is the dichotomy between the physical limitations of his body and his vibrant inner life. The book’s title itself alludes to this dichotomy, as expressed early on when Martin writes, “I lay like an empty shell, unaware of anything around me. Then one day, I started coming back to life” (7). The idea of an “empty shell” suggests a bodiless spirit, conscious but unparticipating in his own life. The limitations of Martin’s body, juxtaposed with the freedom of his spirit and his imagination, lend an added layer of complexity to Martin’s struggle. His spirit, unfettered by his body’s illness, was perhaps the most central part of his identity, his true self that remained concealed for so long.

As Martin writes, “I used to immerse myself in such fantasies to escape the feelings that threatened to overwhelm me when I thought I’d be trapped forever” (67). Later, when Martin’s body becomes more connected to the world around him, Martin admits that the world of his imagination was often more comforting, a refuge from the intense hardships of his gradual process in being able to once again communicate with the world around him.