I UNDERSTAND YOU.
I'm a HIGHLY SENSITIVE PERSON, too.
Empath, Introverts, and HSPs. I get it, because I live it.
I realized I was a Highly Sensitive Person when I was a junior in college. I was sitting in the library cafe reading an article in the UTNE Reader about a woman who identified as an HSP sharing her tools for living a balanced life. I remember the writer described how healing nature was for her---and how taking mini mindfulness breaks away from people and electronics daily was vital for her mental and physical health. I remember an Aha! light off in my mind---one I couldn't quite process in the moment---but the process would find me when I had gathered the tools needed to understand my sensitive nature with compassion and empathy.
I've felt so much for so long, I had a hard time delineating what belonged to me and what belonged to whomever I was spending time around. Family was a different story. Growing up, I seemed to absorb family issues like a sponge. I was the depressed one (the oldest of four children), who seemed to take on everyones dysfunctions and throw them into a growing sack on my back that made my life heavier and others lighter (or maybe there was not change at all---but my perception told me I'd lighted my loved one's loads).
I was lonely and craving connection, yet in the presence of others I often went into sensory overload and shut down for days afterwards. Thus, I chose not to have many friends. In high school cliques were the death of me. I felt like I was treading water (doing all that I could to keep from drowning) in a gaggle of girls. I kept a sense of self by putting up walls. Very few people could get behind those outer layers to know the free-spirited, kind-hearted, silly, imaginative me.
I still fight with walls. They protect. They create an illusory boundary of safety. And they are needed with some people---but not with all people. My own therapuetic and healing journey has made me trust my feelings---all of them. My feelings are valid. I have gained a sharp sense of what's mine and what's not mine. But sometimes I still get confused---especially when it's someone super close, like my daughter.
I've learned that feeling deeply is a blessing and not a curse. It's about loving life. It's about being who you are in the highly sensitive, empathic skin you were born into.
I realized I was a Highly Sensitive Person when I was a junior in college. I was sitting in the library cafe reading an article in the UTNE Reader about a woman who identified as an HSP sharing her tools for living a balanced life. I remember the writer described how healing nature was for her---and how taking mini mindfulness breaks away from people and electronics daily was vital for her mental and physical health. I remember an Aha! light off in my mind---one I couldn't quite process in the moment---but the process would find me when I had gathered the tools needed to understand my sensitive nature with compassion and empathy.
I've felt so much for so long, I had a hard time delineating what belonged to me and what belonged to whomever I was spending time around. Family was a different story. Growing up, I seemed to absorb family issues like a sponge. I was the depressed one (the oldest of four children), who seemed to take on everyones dysfunctions and throw them into a growing sack on my back that made my life heavier and others lighter (or maybe there was not change at all---but my perception told me I'd lighted my loved one's loads).
I was lonely and craving connection, yet in the presence of others I often went into sensory overload and shut down for days afterwards. Thus, I chose not to have many friends. In high school cliques were the death of me. I felt like I was treading water (doing all that I could to keep from drowning) in a gaggle of girls. I kept a sense of self by putting up walls. Very few people could get behind those outer layers to know the free-spirited, kind-hearted, silly, imaginative me.
I still fight with walls. They protect. They create an illusory boundary of safety. And they are needed with some people---but not with all people. My own therapuetic and healing journey has made me trust my feelings---all of them. My feelings are valid. I have gained a sharp sense of what's mine and what's not mine. But sometimes I still get confused---especially when it's someone super close, like my daughter.
I've learned that feeling deeply is a blessing and not a curse. It's about loving life. It's about being who you are in the highly sensitive, empathic skin you were born into.