Category Archives: HSP

Is Overwhelm the Same as Anxiety?

Posted in Depression, HSP by

The deck of playing cards attacks Alice in WonderlandI’ve been grappling with a challenge I variously refer to as procrastination, low motivation, or a need for an astronomical amount of down/processing time, for awhile now. Years, actually. As you can see by my list of labels, the crux of the problem is not solving it (problem-solving is one of my natural strengths), but defining its nature (possibly less of a strength). Longtime readers may recognize this state of bemused non-functionality from the inception of Sensitive Type.

Just to be clear, the tasks I’m having trouble with are self-initiated. Some are associated with work, and I will eventually have to be accountable for them, but there is no one looking over my shoulder from day to day. Others impact only me. Ironically, the space to “be where I am” that I built in to my life in response to my previous crisis reduced the stress of pressure from others, but by also reducing the motivating imperative of deadlines, new stress was born.

Finding the Right Frame

I have framed the issue in many different ways, trying to find one that fits. Continue reading →

Thoughts About Overthinking

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Blog posts and discussions about Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS) frequently refer to “overthinking” as an inevitable characteristic of being an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person). This always raises my hackles. What’s “over” about our thinking, compared to anyone else’s? And why are we comparing ourselves to anyone else anyway? Unfavorably at that? Haven’t we all heard “oversensitive” enough times not to apply any more “over-” appellations to ourselves??

And if the embedded judgment wasn’t bad enough, the term is also imprecise. I have detected at least three different meanings associated with the word. In this post, I discuss these definitions of “overthinking,” and propose alternatives for two of them.

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Believe Me

Posted in HSP, Journey by

Cassandra was a Trojan princess and priestess, best remembered for being a prophet who was always right, but never believed. The rest of her story is less well-remembered. More on that later.

To Tell the Truth

Bronze casting of a pensive young woman in ancient dress with holes for eyesCassandra only wanted to use her gift to prevent unnecessary suffering and death. But she told people things they didn’t want to hear, so she was pronounced insane, and ignored. Her own family, who had surely noticed her prophecies always came true, nevertheless locked her away, and dissed her along with the rest. They soon had reason to regret that, but by then it was too late.

When they let her out for a feast, she warned her father, the King of Troy, that the centerpiece, a giant wooden horse sent as a gift by Troy’s longtime rivals, the Greeks, was full of invading soldiers. Annoyed that she was bringing their party down, the king and his courtiers jeered at and insulted her.

Desperate to prove the truth, Cassandra grabbed an axe to break it open and show them what they would not let her tell them, but they took it away and laughed at her some more.

I don’t have to imagine how frustrating this was. I know. Like many HSPs, I often perceive things that others don’t. I learned a long time ago that these truths are not always welcomed by people who have not yet seen them (or are working very hard not to). 

But wouldn’t you think immediate physical danger was a special case? It’s only natural that people would pay attention when it was a question of their own survival. Isn’t it? Continue reading →

Terra Infirma

Posted in HSP, Journey by

I knew I was living in a protected bubble, where life AC (After COVID-19) was not so very different from life BC. I knew there were similar pockets throughout the U.S. While I was grateful for the relative safety of my situation, the sense of removal from the chaotic centers of the pandemic has its down side. Many in my suburban city refuse to change their behavior. They are worried enough to hoard toilet paper, but not enough to keep their distance in the checkout line. They don’t know anyone who died yet.

Two blooming purple lilac flower heads

The disconnect between the quiet streets here, blooming with spring, and the fact that we are in the midst of a global tragedy that must change us in ways we can’t even begin to imagine felt increasingly surreal as I read of very different scenarios elsewhere – Italy, Spain, hospitals in New York. But still, I worked my past experiences with making do, getting through it, living with uncertainty, and sheltering in place from my own HSP overwhelm. I told myself calmly and rationally that the brightest and best-trained minds on the planet are working on this, Continue reading →

Coping

Posted in Depression, HSP, Introversion by

I wonder if HSPs have an advantage in a crisis, as we are already very familiar with overwhelm. While that’s no guarantee that we are better equipped to deal with it, at least it’s not a new feeling. If we have learned to balance our sensitivities with a sense of perspective, perhaps we can rediscover sooner than others that our emotional reaction is not a measure of our capacity to cope.

Global pandemic really shouldn’t surprise anyone, as we have had a high level of rapid international travel for at least 70 years. What’s surprising is that it didn’t happen sooner. I don’t expect that to be a comfort, but I am ever-hopeful it will promote facing and planning for other future challenges (not holding my breath, though).

Hunkered Down

A chipmunk peers warily out from between large boulders
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Risk

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A wild goat leaps from one high rock to another against the background of a valley far below, while another goat loks inquisitively into the camera
I have observed that I have a somewhat different perspective on risk from some of my friends. They measure risk – and decide whether to take preventive steps – based on their assessment of how likely an undesirable event is. I, on the other hand, weigh risk and how much preventive action is warranted according to how much of a hassle it would be if it did happen.

Since sensory processing sensitivity is often described in terms of risk aversion, especially in animal studies, I am curious whether HSPs in general identify more strongly with one of the above attitudes towards risk than with the other? Let’s call them “odds” vs “cost.” If you have a moment, please fill out the poll below. Not scientific, of course, but potentially interesting. (If you don’t see the poll, try a different browser or device).

Minutiae

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If you face each detail – calmly, patiently, steadily – look how the whole can turn out in time.

An extremely intricate octopus papercut, with thousands of teeny cutouts from a single sheet to create the impression of skin textures and overlap, laid across the artist's palms.

Octopus cut from a single sheet by kirie artist Masayo Fukuda (Article)

No Direction Home

Posted in HSP, Journey by

A worried looking monkey stares at its reflection in a mirrorIt continues to astound me how many things about myself I have overlooked, or underestimated the importance of, often for decades. I’m so perceptive about other peoples’ feelings – how could I be so dense?? Is it all due to a childhood during which my feelings and desires were constantly criticized and belittled? Or is there some inherent inability in my personality (☾+♆ in the 12th?) to see the obvious when I am looking in the mirror?

That’s one of those questions that can never really be answered. Any more than I can say whether my convoluted path could have been more direct, or whether those twists and turns were an essential part of the process. That 12th house ♆ is ☌ ♃ so it is entirely possible that my confusion, as unbelievable as I would certainly have found it at the time, was inextricably linked to my growth. Continue reading →

Processing

Posted in HSP, Journey by

I discovered living alone (without other humans, that is) when I was 16, and with the exception of brief sojourns with lovers or short-term transitional situations, it has been my lifestyle of choice ever since.

Close Quarters

Leafy trees show through windows in a wooden door set in a stone wall.Living with other people was what I turned to when I first struck out on my own because it was what I had always done, but I soon realized the omnipresent relationships placed unmanageable demands on my energy. Sometime in my teens I redefined “home” as “the place I go to get away from people and rest.” And that is what home still is to me.

I rarely invite people in. If I feel social, I go out.

Most of my friendships are situational, the sum of proximity + time. That used to feel inadequate, but perhaps my expectations have evolved as I become a better friend to myself. The differences seem less important. Sometimes, as friendships deepen, I discover there are more similarities than I suspected. Continue reading →