I ran two races at once to win lives that were precious to me. My opponent was Death.
Death had a head start.
Sometimes I ran strong, hopeful and determined. Other times I faltered, exhausted, confused about where to go, feeling I had already lost. Always, whichever race I was running, I felt myself falling behind in the other.
In the end, Death won them both.
Both of my cats are still alive, so you can guess what I am thankful for today. Turns out there are a lot of people around who have been traumatized by euthanasia decisions, which does not surprise me at all. It’s the emotional equivalent of asking someone to decide to put their own child to death. In states where euthanasia has been legalized, that only applies to adults, because a child can’t legally consent. And I think we recognize that asking a parent to make that decision would likely haunt them for the rest of their lives, no matter which way they decided.
My life has been in crisis for the past 2 – or is it 3? – weeks. Time is elongated, and the last time things were “normal” seems like a long, long time ago.
I knew my animal companions were getting on in years, and could not live forever, but I shoved that awareness to the back of my mind, because I couldn’t conceive of how to live with losing them. It’s been getting harder to ignore since a scare earlier this year, and now it may be unexpectedly upon me. And I still don’t know how.
Caretaking animals is not so very different from caretaking humans. Sometimes, all you can do is keep them clean and warm and dry, but it’s worth doing. After a day at the vet with one cat, I came home to find another hiding under the bed. It’s been almost 36 hours since she would eat anything, and she is a walking (or rather, stumbling) skeleton already. There is nothing left to do for her if she won’t eat. Continue reading
I haven’t written much about my short-lived summer job. I meant to, but it got shuttled to the back burner by the premiere of Sensitive: The Untold Story, and other more time-sensitive topics, and by the time that was over, it was old news.
I felt a certain empathy for my boss and her issues, but eventually concluded they were impacting my life to an unacceptable degree. I was so proud of myself for figuring out that I needed to make a change before the need became urgent. This time, I’ll find another job first, I thought.
However, she must’ve sensed it, because she blew up out of nowhere over something trivial, and abruptly I was out of a job without a replacement income. The time since has been nerve-wracking. Each month, it has been a miracle that I managed to pay my rent. I’m pretty pissed at her. I was a good employee, and I deserved better.
Then I learned that she was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness two weeks after I left. I was shocked and saddened, of course, and I hope she survives. But I can see how very much that is a part of her path, and I can also see that I don’t need to go down that path with her, which would’ve been a lot harder to avoid if I was still working for her. Interesting timing, isn’t it? Continue reading
My feline companion of 15 years is sick and I can’t afford to take her to the vet. Her symptoms are common – I know they would need to do expensive tests. And it’s possible, surely it’s possible, that she is only looking so shaky and frail because she ate so little for a few days. Now that I’ve gotten her different food, she is eating more.
I don’t believe in a god or gods, exactly, but I am nevertheless praying to wherever prayers may be heard that she will be more like herself soon. Pray with me.
Because I am not ready for her to leave me, especially not when the decisions I’ve made for myself leave me helpless when she needs me most. I’m willing to take my lumps, but she didn’t have any choice in the matter, so why should she suffer?
Meanwhile, I’ve had bad news about a “little” job I have, just a few hours a month. My boss has no visible skills, except for torturing underlings with more ability but less status, while showing an entirely different face to those in higher echelons. You know the kind of person I mean. As awful as he is to me, I can’t quit, I need the money too badly. I’ve been gritting my teeth and hanging in there by my fingernails because I thought he’d be moving on in a few weeks.
Turns out he won’t be.
Merry Christmas to me.
Did I mention he makes $90,000 a year?
I know the world is not a fair place – I’ve known it for a long time. But there are some days when it’s harder to make peace with that.
This is one of them.
Here are a few of my favorite HSP-related videos for your viewing enjoyment, or to share with people in your life who may not be ready for the whole movie yet.
Ane Axford & friends act out traits of HSPs. This list has some things I hadn’t heard elsewhere – it was the first place I heard that HSPs are often perceived as flirting when they’re not, which explained a lot. I think my favorite is #7. Or maybe it’s #9. Or is it #8?
I most enjoy this video for the list (from 1:50 to 6:00), which is bookended by text that won’t be news to anyone who already identifies as HSP. However, the opening and closing verbiage and humor of this video makes it a good one to gently introduce someone to the sensitive trait. Continue reading
This cartoon by Yumi Sakugawa caught my attention for two reasons. First, it affirms my introvert/HSP/recovering depressive need for downtime.
But the second reason is something I’ve been wrestling with for several weeks now. I’ve become aware that a lot of my abdominal muscles live in a constant state of contraction. This is so automatic that I’m utterly unconscious of it most of the time. Even when I turn my attention to those muscles, it’s hard to figure out how to relax them. And the minute I start thinking about something else, they revert to their habitual contraction again.
The contracting is complex. There are at least three different areas involved, and if I try to relax them in the wrong order, the first group contracts again when I relax the second.
One set of muscles is around my waistline, and sucks my abdomen in under my diaphragm. You know, into the space where air is supposed to go when you breathe deeply? I have often noticed that I had trouble taking deep breaths during exercise or yoga. Now I realize it was because I was fighting against the inflexible girdle of my own muscles. What impact has constant under-oxygenation for all those decades had on my physical and mental health?? Continue reading
I’ve never liked the concept of leadership, since leaders necessitate followers, and followers are what’s wrong with this planet. Not that we can’t all learn from one another. We not only can, we’d better. But the “one another” part of that is crucial. True role modeling is an all-way process, lubricated by the understanding that everyone has something to teach and something to learn.
Whenever a process congeals into an object, watch out. “Role models” are a whole nother animal from “role modeling.” Suddenly the egalitarian give-what-you-have, take-what-you-need model has mutated into a hierarchy where those who only teach make decisions for those who only learn. The latter greatly outnumber the former, but have abdicated their power en masse, so effectively that they are quite convinced they have none. Meanwhile, the meanest, greediest specimens of humanity are steering the ship. Is it any wonder there are rough waters ahead?
I had a conversation with a stranger about this once. I don’t recall how it came up, but the example under discussion was deciding what to do in a dangerous situation. She said in a situation like that, she’d be glad of someone to tell her where to go. “Even if it’s the wrong way?” I asked. She didn’t know how to answer this. As an opinionated person, I know perfectly well that force of belief is no measure of correctitude (it is too a word), but in her mind, authoritativeness and knowledgeableness were so inextricably linked that she couldn’t conceive of one without the other. Now that’s really dangerous.
The tragedy that can result from unquestioning acceptance of authority was all too graphically illustrated in the senseless, heartbreaking deaths of almost 300 passengers (mostly teenagers on a school trip) on the Korean ferry Sewol last year. The crew ordered them to retire to their cabins to await rescue, which they did. The crew were then rescued from the deck, while the ship slowly sank with the young passengers, trusting and trapped below.
So what’s the alternative to “leadership?” Continue reading
Sensitive: The Untold Story is making waves. Gentle waves, in keeping with our subtle sensibilities, but discernible (to us, at least) nonetheless. How can I tell? Articles about sensory processing sensitivity are not only becoming more frequent, they are becoming more accurate.
Here’s one from Huff Post. The article is just a brief summary – the real content is in the video, which is a nice blend of first-hand account from an HSP, the scientific perspective, and then there’s the co-producer of the film, who isn’t identified as such, but she’s wearing the movie t-shirt.
Perhaps the distaste for being watched is more a trait of introverts than HSPs – I can’t really tell, being both. But other than that, there is not much to quibble at in the Huff Post video, which is rare and refreshing.
I’m not sure I’ve heard of Kelly O’Laughlin – the HSP in the video – before. Her memoir, A Highly Sensitive Person’s Life, came out earlier this year, and she’s raking in the positive reviews on Amazon. One reviewer noted that the book content is mostly from her blog, highlysensitiveperson.net.
I love that her most recent post is a self-described rant about a recent article on HSPS that also irritated the heck out of me. I never quite feel like I ought to be ranting, not that that ever stopped me. Thank you, Kelly, for modeling that it is OK for HSPs to rant, and feel good about it :)
BTW, Diana Hereld, the researcher featured in the video, is a grad student in music psychology. Check out her research page (scroll down for papers). HSP, right?
Before I forget, I received an updated link to stream ($4.99) or buy ($9.99) Sensitive: The Movie. I just want to say again how much I appreciate that it is affordable.
If figuring out how to make a living is not your life issue, as it so inexorably is mine – first of all, take a moment to be seriously grateful about that! Then, ripple on over to the Sensitive movie merchandise page, and pick up a hat, mug, t-shirt or candle to support the Foundation for the Study of Highly Sensitive Persons in continued research and education.
The title of this post is also the title of an Emerson, Lake and Palmer song, which you can hear here. Kick back and take a meditative journey through the golden age of folk-rock. The video of which it is the soundtrack, though entirely unrelated, is an interesting journey too.
Came across this quote from author Shannon L. Alder when searching on “sensitivity.” Obviously this woman knows HSPs! Then I checked out her Goodreads page, which features many other thoughtful and insightful quotes – I’m pretty sure the HSP she knows is herself.
Sensitive people are the most genuine and honest people you will ever meet. There is nothing they won’t tell you about themselves if they trust your kindness. However, the moment you betray them, reject them or devalue them, they become the worse type of person. Unfortunately, they end up hurting themselves in the long run. They don’t want to hurt other people. It is against their very nature. They want to make amends and undo the wrong they did. Their life is a wave of highs and lows. They live with guilt and constant pain over unresolved situations and misunderstandings. They are tortured souls that are not able to live with hatred or being hated. This type of person needs the most love anyone can give them because their soul has been constantly bruised by others. However, despite the tragedy of what they have to go through in life, they remain the most compassionate people worth knowing, and the ones that often become activists for the broken hearted, forgotten and the misunderstood. They are angels with broken wings that only fly when loved.
And while I’m at it, here’s another quote from author and cartoonist Lynda Barry, from her book What It Is:
There are certain children who are told they are too sensitive, and there are certain adults who believe sensitivity is a problem that can be fixed in the way that crooked teeth can be fixed and made straight. And when these two come together you get a fairytale, a kind of story with hopelessness in it.
I believe there is something in these old stories that does what singing does to words. They have transformational capabilities, in the way melody can transform mood.
They can’t transform your actual situation, but they can transform your experience of it. We don’t create a fantasy world to escape reality, we create it to be able to stay. I believe we have always done this, used images to stand and understand what otherwise would be intolerable.
Heck, why don’t I just give you the link to all the quotes – I’m sure you’ll relate to many of them, just as I did. http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/sensitive
sensitive type 