Curse Of Being Sensitive

Some people observe others who are happy, sad, depressed, or angry. For me personally, I not only observe this in others but then I feel all of their happy, sad, depressed, or angry feelings. I can feel these things in others from a distance. I can feel these things as a collective feeling of the environment around me. It is as if I'm watching scene after scene in a movie. It is no more difficult than that for me to pick up.

Of course, there is much more to it than my simple description above. It is highly involved. Often I fear that I pick up more than each individual actually realizes is going on within their own mind and body. Most likely, if people actually knew all that I picked up, they would run away from me in a frightened state of panic. I choose to keep this to myself in many ways as a result.

I do realize I am one of those highly sensitive people. Some days, I consider this to be a curse. Even though I know it is helpful to me in life in many different ways, being so sensitive is a heavy responsibility and load that I carry. My interaction with people are not just hello and goodbye. If it were only that easy, I would rejoice. My interactions are much more than this. I would not know what it meant, to be around others and not pick anything up.

While I do not ask for this and some days I curse it, I know it is who I am. I realize that many days I do not fully realize all that I pick up from others. It feels like a flood of information gushing from a giant hose. If I searched for a valve to stop it, I would not find one. Even after living with this all of my life, I still do not understand it. It scares and frightens me. Some days I have no rest from it.

I have been told that being sensitive is a good thing. Yet, at times in life, I feel tormented by it. When I was a young child, I grew up in an atmosphere that did not welcome it. My sensitivity did not fit in. Often, I was overwhelmed by all the insensitivity I lived around. My body felt all that was going on, while my eyes witnessed the events and my ears heard the cries. There were never enough silent tears of anguish for me to shed.

To this day and moment, I feel from such a distance to all that is going on around me. I am not even certain what all it is that I am picking up. It feels like information overload. I seek moments of peace far away from the lights, sounds, actions, movements and people. As I wrote in a poem that when I feel bombs bursting, I seek safety in the ground.

This world and this life is not an easy one to be a highly sensitive person. I have no idea if there is an easy way to live with this or if it will always be this difficult. I have no idea the shape or dimensions this side of me will take as I grow in life. Will it become clearer to me or will it disappear completely?

I would like to believe that with time, I will begin to understand more the ability that I possess. I would like to know that it would be there when it was most beneficial and would give me peace when it was not necessary. I would enjoy finding more moments of peace within my day even if this sensitivity remains on high alert. This is my hope.


(Above Picture - (c) 08/19/10)

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