Coming Out of the Closet

I feel more than I want to feel. I see more than I want to see. This is my super power and also my curse.

I am an Empath, a highly sensitive person. I do not feel blessed by this. In fact when I wrote about facing my demons, this is what I was talking about.

I didn't know anything about being an empath. I thought everyone could feel what other people feel. I thought everyone could see beyond the surface of why people do what they do.  I thought everyone could read other people's body language. Can't they?

Apparently not.

I thought there was something wrong with me. I cry all the time, books and movies of course but also when I hear people's stories or see someone's pain or their joy.

I can't watch "bad" TV - it makes me sick to my stomach.  The news disturbs me so I don't watch it or listen to it on the radio. I never read the newspaper.

I make decisions about people because they shine or because they just feel bad. Try explaining that to people.

Even worse, I remember people.  Not just from this life time but from previous ones. I know who I've known before.  It hurts sometimes when other people don't recognize me back. Contrarily, it scares me when they do.

I'm learning to accept all of these strange and wonderful things about myself. But I still struggle everyday. I feel too much. I don't mind sharing your joy or your sorrows.

My problem is your anger. It comes off you in waves. It abrades me, rubbing me raw. It makes me sick to my stomach and makes me cry. No matter how much I love you it hurts me.

I want to be a turtle and hide in my shell. I stop talking and laughing.  Every nerve ending is jangling in pain.

The longer I spend with you the worse it gets.

I don't know how to protect myself so I shut off and tune out. I reject people.  Some people say I'm shy, some say I'm a snob. No, I'm just in pain with no way out.

I'm making friends with this demon that lives inside me. It's not so bad. I understand me so much better now. Because I understand, I can allow myself to cry, to turn off the tv, to avoid those people that hurt me.

Finally, I'm coming out of the closet. This is me and I'm okay just the way I am.