I talk…A LOT as many of you who read my blog might have noticed already. That’s because I feel the need to explain myself clearly so that no one misunderstands what I’m trying to say or why I’m saying it.
I cry and analyze the crap out of everything. A simple decision for some such as what ice cream flavour to have or what to order off of a menu, can be a daunting task for me and seemingly, take forever. Buying a chair or a new set of curtains is not a matter of “which one do I like best” but rather, “what if I were to re-paint…would these go with any colour?” Then, there’s the endless lists of “what type of fabric is it made from, how is it cleaned, will the cat’s claws puncture it and how can one repair it, will it/they fit, what will they do to the room in looks, who manufactures them, how will we get it home or do they deliver, what is the delivery charge, how long will it take, what do I do with the old set, what if we move, will it look good anywhere, won’t it shrink down the room size by look or colour, will it fit through the front door and what’s involved in taking them off, how do we get doors off if we need to fit them through, I wonder why they made our doors non-standard sizes, nothing is square in that house of ours, geese we have such a tiny space to work with…..blah, blah, blah.” I usually have to walk away and think about it more, do research, get measurements, decide if I want to re-paint or not, what colour I might choose if I did and much more until I’m at a standstill and don’t buy a thing new.
I will also look at the face of the cashier, serving me. If she/he looks down, sad, mad, upset or whatever, I will pick it up quickly that’s something is wrong and start a conversation whereby, it will go something like this,
“Long day?” I will ask right out loud.
“No, I just started,” the cashier will respond, continuing to ring through my order. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, just because you look like you’re tired,” I will answer.
“No, I’m ok…I guess,” she/he might say, putting items into the bag or onto the conveyor belt. “I had a fight with my husband/wife so, I’m thinking about that.”
“Oh dear,” I’ll start off. “I do hope that you’re going to talk it over after your shift. I’m sure it will work out.”
“Thank you,” he/she will respond, continuing on with their task. “He/she is just so stubborn that I can’t seem to get through to him/her. I’m upset that we can’t even talk about….” and the conversation goes on until my order is done and the line-up behind me is too big to continue on. I pay and leave.
Does it end there? Nope…not for me. I’ll get in the car and I’ll carry that cashier’s fight and emotions with me. Worse than that, I’ll worry because my dog didn’t eat his dinner and my cat threw up her food. Are they sick? Oh gawd, I can’t afford another set of vet bills right now. I’ve already taken them to the vet twice this month for one thing or another. He must be getting fed up with me or think of me as neurotic. Wait…maybe, I am neurotic? Maybe, I am downright crazy? My friend’s daughter didn’t acknowledge her birthday. Nevermind the fact that my daughter didn’t bother with mine either 2 weeks ago. That just compounds the situation. After all, I know what my friend is feeling because it happened to me too. I feel the empathy with everyone right about now. Another friend calls with her stories of woe and my kettle breaks while I’m listening and talking her through it. Doesn’t everyone need someone to listen to them? Hold the horses here…Maryann didn’t get back to me about her surgery. I wonder how she’s doing? Should I call her to see? What if she isn’t doing well? What if she’s gotten bad news about the pathology? My sister-in-law is concerned about my brother. He’s the last remaining family member I have. I can’t lose him. I’ve got to call him too and see what’s going on and how I can help him. The list goes on and on until I have a headache and am feeling like a bull dozer hit me.
What’s wrong with me? Why do I do this to myself? Is anyone worrying about me?
“Who thinks like that?” my extremely laid back and non-emotional husband asks me. “It’s not your place to worry about everyone else. Even the cashier at the supermarket wasn’t your responsibility to ask about, let alone worry about. You’re never going to know anyway.”
Of course, I know that he’s right. I know this isn’t “normal” thinking patterns. No one is thinking about me the way that I think about them, let alone carrying all of their problems as though they were mine and building a mountain on top of my shoulders.
Then, I remember my mother’s words, “grow a thicker skin.” That’s what I need to do. I know it. I’m far too sensitive and emotional. As a matter of fact, I used to think my real name was Jesus Christ because my father used to say, “Jesus Christ,” before he’d get fed up with what I was saying or telling him I was thinking. My husband does the same thing but, rather than use the words, he says the equivalent of “Jesus Christ”. It boils down to the same thing though and makes me feel equally stupid for having uttered what was running through my seemingly screwed up brain.
Is it little wonder that I feel anxiety, depression and even overwhelmed and can’t sleep while my husband could snore through a world war going on around him? The man has a stomach made of steel and could eat no matter what else is happening around him. I could fall apart and in spite of being nice and slim, he’ll eat anyway.
Today, I found out one thing that may not change who or what I am but, after getting counselling for my warped thinking, I found out that I’m not “ill/disordered”. I’m simply what they call a “Sensitive Person”.
What exactly does that mean?
Much to my relief, I came home and started to understand more about myself in my usual fashion of researching everything to have knowledge. They say “knowledge is power”, don’t they?
Yes and that saying is correct for the most part however, there comes a point where it needs to be turned down a few notches. Knowing everything is not only impossible but, it’s not healthy for anyone…which explains why my husband can eat and sleep no matter what else happens around him while I’m nursing a headache, back ache, stomach ache and shaking over something or other. The man isn’t attached to his emotions at all. As a matter of fact, we are polar opposites in that aspect of things. How we ever got together in the first place is beyond me. What baffles me most is how we are staying together. We both want to knock each other upside the heads most of the time. I want him to think and feel a bit more while he wishes I’d stop thinking, feeling, researching and analyzing everything to the tee. There’s a happy medium. There’s him at one end of the spectrum and me at the other end. Somewhere in between is where we both should be heading but, frankly…he doesn’t care enough to change anything about himself. He accepts himself even when others want to check for a pulse in him. I, on the other hand, want to change everything about myself and am constantly striving to better myself. That doesn’t serve me well though. I’m better off accepting the fact that I’m a Highly Sensitive Person and leave it there, doing what I need to do to get through Life as he does.
There’s plenty more but, if you are a Highly Sensitive Person as I am, overload is not good. Besides, it’s likely that you’re an expert on Googling things anyway already. Google or YouTube away if you wish. I know you will.
Be well, Love and Light
Have a wonderful day or evening.