Arrival: Next Destination.

Feeling Type. Empath. Highly Sensitive Person.

This has been the truest and hardest struggle of my life. A lifelong struggle, hidden behind a plethora of more apparent issues.

Feeling Type. INFJ to be specific. I value the feelings of others in social situations. I will always feel the need to make sure there is no conflict within the group. If everyone could get along with everyone, I would have perfection. Unfortunately that is not reality. As a self-aware, self-confessed rigid asshole, I do not get along with the majority of society. I also have a big bleeding heart and as much as I would love to love you, I still passionately dislike most of you. The duality of man has never been so obvious to me. …”I’m a sinner, I’m a saint…I do not feel ashamed…”

I struggle to not judge myself when presented with this duality. If I am stating my truth, at this moment in time I have an extremely hard time forgiving others for not being honest with their truth. This strongly hinders my ability to get along with and accept people I view as dishonest. If presented with confrontation with said people, 10/10 times I will release a barrage of emotional bombs aimed directly at your soul, leaving that bridge smoldering. Turn that coin around and see my heart lying there in ashes as well. It kills me to be so harsh. I feel my own pain, and the pain I have caused you. This kind of repetitive pain leaves scar tissue layer after layer. Thick skin and heart on my sleeve.

Empath.  Example. At work I sometimes take calls from upset customers. It only takes a voice. The energy of that person inhabits me. I feel their anger, their urgency. I can see myself in their position. This person could be on the verge of cussing me out and my heart is racing and I can feel theirs too. I feel other people's energies and if I let my guard down which happens daily, that energy can stay within me. It can join together with my bad mood, and the guy’s at the corner store who yelled at his son, and the son’s, all those negative energies can be alive at once inside of me.

Highly Sensitive Person. Lights low. Ambient music in the background. Comfortable clothes and hair tie and clean glasses and correct temperature 76 degrees to be precise. That is how I start my day. If the dogs bark too loud, my heart jumps and races and it takes about 10 minutes to regulate. The sound of the phone ringing hurts my joy. (All tones are infuriating.) The news is a gamble. I know I will huff and puff at the injustices and I accept that as normal. For the more extreme and or tragic stories my body physically reacts. Usually heart rate increases which leads to anxiety. If left unchecked, that anxiety will manifest at some undetermined moment in the near future. 

Thankfully, I have learned that I can check my anxiety and the tendency to give into sadness. I can control this. The fact that I am aware of the causes of these crippling emotions now gives me the power to change how I react. I started therapy a little over a year ago because I needed to help myself. These 3 things that make me who I am, also almost killed me. I was so beat down by the overwhelming emotions, feelings, and endless energies. It had knocked me off my bike and I was too damn afraid to get back up. I know so many others are overwhelmed with one or all of these attributes. Identifying these specific characteristics as culprits has helped me see a way out. Without understanding myself in this way, many innocent people took the blame for emotions that I assumed were their fault. More so, I was always a fan of kicking myself when I was down. It’s compulsory when you think something is wrong with the way you are. “Stop being such a baby…You deserve it because blah blah blah…If you weren’t such a bitch…” Well folks, I’m not a baby. I don’t deserve it. I am a bitch, if we are being honest. I’m a highly sensitive person who is empathetic and feels ALL the feels.  I still am trying to find a balance between being honest with myself and who I am, and wanting everything to be copacetic with the people that affects. Perfection is unattainable but in my opinion getting back on the bike is a nice change of scenery. 

freespeech

So I will speak to you. A blank white canvas to be painted red with words. I will speak to you because you have no agenda. You have no opinion of me. You have no hate or love. You let me take care of all the emotions. I can color that rainbow full spectrum, my reds and my blues are infinite.

I am lonely
I am hurt
I am bitter
I am resentful
I am embarrassed
I am scared this is me.

I am strong
I am kind
I am thoughtful
I am underestimated
I am fierce
I am a fighter
I am tired.

chew on this

There's a bug in my heart and needs to be caught.
I feel him rustle about when I give him a thought.
The thought rushes from my brain.
Takes the shortcut vein.
Arrives right on a platter.
Make that bug fatter.
Eat this thought you hungry fat shit.

This bug has indigestion .
It causes palpitations.
From the vein to the brain,
Its excrement inhabits my cells. 

Metamorph

The early sun shines truth upon my fearful face,
drawing me out of my menacing cave.
I am thrust into the warmth with sleep in my eyes.
It washes over me like old, sure hands.

The weight of the darkness falls down my belly like an anvil cut loose.
The impact penetrates every molecule of my existence.
It's red hot and shooting out of my ears.
It melts down my body leaving a fresh coat of paint.
You embrace me and the wet paint matches your eyes
Eyes and paint drip as we stand together for the first time this way.

Me, Myself and the astonishing vastness of it all.

Some days my head is so loud and the world is so quiet.
I prefer it that way you know. 
Only hearing my own chaos while secluded from the rest of yours. 
My mind races faster than my brain can find the proper manila folder. 
Emotions try to manage this office and they should quiet rightly be fired. 

I want more than anything on these days,
to find someone to bring into my world.
Only a few exist out there that qualify.
Only a few that would enjoy the space I think. 

My mind is a maze.
It's very easy to get lost, sidetracked, backtracked, soundtracked, Lion King. Nathan Lane. Mulberry Lane. Pillsbury dough-boy, biscuits have too many calories.
But back to the point. 
Emotions gushing from my heart hot off the press.
They are not to be trusted. The editors have their own agenda. 
I need a secondary source of thought sandbags. 
I need to feel your flow criss-cross mine. 
It's lonely alone in my head.

This playground feels like it's quarantined.


 

Dirty Dark

Haunted.
Cobwebs stuck to a splintered soul.
Locked up tight and dark.

Foreign matter, intrusive, invasive, spreading like mold in a damp shallow grave.

Intertwined in my DNA.
To my grave you'll go along with the fire.
The fire. Desire. The fire burns all the air.
Consumed by your smoke. Your ash tastes like sweet lips.

Smother me in comforting vines.
The more thorns the better, bleed my skin raw.

Once again as always, you've left me a mess.

Kitchen & Tulips

"That there, that's not me."

Anyone that has known me before this stifled version of myself has been sneakily living out my life for me, knows that I have a fire that burns quite hot. I have passion, I have rage, and I have love.

I wish I could say exactly when I became afraid of myself. "As sleep does, it came slowly, then all at once."
I was determined not be the person that made so many mistakes, that offended so many people. And my  biggest mistake to date, was assuming that parts of me could take credit for representing all of me. I have been body-snatched. I go through the motions of being polite, respectful and appropriate for the sake of everyone else. I would get so furious at myself for letting the old me occasionally slip through the barricades. Usually the security guard of my true self would get a little lazy in the aftermath of a few intoxicants. After a thorough reprimand, good behavior was reinstated throughout the land.

FUCK GOOD BEHAVIOR.

I am a goddamn lion. You can't dress a lion up like a fucking turtle and expect that shit to fly.
To get raw for a change...(sarcasm emoticon here), I have been having a shit-tastic couple years. Voluntarily stepping away from toxic people and simultaneously mourning the metaphoric death of these discredited staples of my life-long existence can really put a damper on your day-to-day. Being afraid of my own intensity has left me about as interesting as belly button lint.

Now that I am in...dun dun DUN...therapy, I have a refreshed perspective. I can no longer shun myself for being true to myself. I can no longer pretend to be a socially acceptable, ever courteous, well mannered shell of the personality that is welded to my entire sense of being.

Getting older is truly a mind-fuck in most aspects. I do not appreciate several unwanted slaps with the gravity-stick, the party tolerance of a grandmother, or the habitual disdain for those even a half decade younger than I. However, I do welcome this necessary fear of consequences that tends to escort maturity. You always must be careful when playing with fire and I think, I hope, that I have passed this LONG, BORING, UNEVENTFUL safety course appropriately titled "Self Deprecation 101".

That said, I have had it with being my own security guard, my own warden, my own judge, juror and executioner. I am delightful. I am a handful. I am kind and I am a fucking bitch. I am loyal, I am honest, and I am over this lull. It's hard to accept yourself, with a voice constantly telling you that you're shit. It's a struggle for me and for many people. To be your own worst enemy is no way to live this short life.

So here I make my stand, to the abstract internet audience, or lack there of. I make a stand to myself, to my friends, and to the ones who have stood by my side as I walked around in my own shadow, consequently covering them as well. I make my stand because if I don't, I fear I will lose this fire, this element of life. Now or never, take it or leave it. I'd rather roar so loud it hurts than tuck my head in my own shell and just shit around my cage.