The burden of being sensitive

This is a post I wrote a while ago and just found again. I wonder how many people can relate to this..

I’m sensitive. I’m a big softie. I might not seem it, but I am sensitive. So sensitive, in fact, as to border dangerously on paranoid from time to time. I read things into looks, words and situations that aren’t necessarily there. But I also sense and read things in people that they don’t necessarily want me to know. Or maybe they do. That’s the thing about us sensitive folk – we throw out little clues all the time, but only a fellow sensitiver could pick them up.

We don’t talk; we hunt. Because talking brings with it emotions. Words mean something to us. The written word – a note, an e-mail, a text message – can be out saviour when we’re down, our devil when we’re bordering on that ‘paranoid’ phase. A rock, a constant in that stormy sea of emotion that we all suffer with.

Another thing about sensitive folk, is that we tend to be self-deprecating to the extreme. Unless someone is openly showing and telling is that they care, we don’t feel that anyone *does*. Sensitive folk, when they’ve found someone, make a point of all-out letting them know. Because to us, it’s important. We can’t take hints about feelings – the tendency to self-deprecate will shoot down anything but the most blatant expression of anything positive towards us with an annoying ‘whatever’ attitude. As if anyone could ever feel anything but pity or annoyance with us.

It’s not easy to spot a fellow sensitiver though. We learn to hide it very well. Imagine someone with very strongly, and often felt emotions, expressing it all the time. I can’t. We’re the quiet ones. We learn, from an early age, that to show emotions is a sign of weakness – a sign that someone has touched you deep inside, where, while young, only the bullies tend to go.

“I will not let them see they’ve got to me and see me crying”, is the mantra of the sensitiver when we grow up. So we learn to hide it. And not being able to freely express the immense emotions we feel, only adds to the self-deprecation. After a while, we are unable to express emotion at all. It’s all stored up inside. So when we *do* express, even happiness, everything comes with tears, because there are so many there, waiting to be shed.

All a sensitiver really wants is love. Honest, rare love. A sensitiver has so much love to give, but often can’t get the chance. We are walking contradictions to many people. Adamant in our wish not to be touched (for who of us want a hug unless we know it’s meant? And felt?). Solid in our expressionless faces, yet unnerving in our honesty. If we care about someone – we tell them. We judge, naively how others might feel about these declarations by our own need for these declarations from others. More often than not, we are not believed. The world is so negative and afraid of emotion, that the immediate assumption is that the declaration is the start of a psycho stalker relationship. And people run away, back off *sigh*.

* I’m not a psycho
* I’m not a stalker
* I’m just sensitive

I have a motto in life – “If you feel it, it’s real and so it’s not stupid.”
It’s how other people react to those feelings that causes the problems…

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3 Responses to The burden of being sensitive

  1. Kahless says:

    I understand parts of what you wrote here. Great post.

  2. me says:

    bloody hell this could have been written about me!
    i look for hidden meanings in every little thing, replay conversations in my head searching for meanings that probably dont even exist and tend to dismiss all positive things about me and focus on the negative, building them up out of all proportion!
    glad its not only me…

  3. Sarsparilla says:

    That’s beautiful.

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