Really, really hard times we are living in.
A political situation that is beyond politics. It\’s….about morals. About humanity. There is so much anger and aggression and conflict. It\’s getting deadly now-literally.
A worldwide pandemic that has brought the planet to its knees. The few things we are beginning to know less than a year in:
it\’s airborne
once you have it, you are not immune to it
Scary shit.
And how the pandemic is handled is being turned into political–or really, moral–strife and conflict.
As a Highly Sensitive Person, I feel afraid of being exposed to COVID, of passing it to others. I am conscientious, a common trait of HSPeople. I want to feel safe-and I want *others* to feel safe also.
As an Empath, I am simply drenched in the energy of fear and anger, of conflict and divisiveness, of aggression and boiling points. My body and mind and heart are all wrung out, exhausted no matter how much I take care of myself. I find small pockets of peace and stillness in my gratitude for the many blessings and privileges I DO have, even as it feels in my bones like the whole world is screaming. Because I DO have a lot of blessings and privileges. And yet, the energy still overtakes me. It\’s an ongoing battle.
And as someone who lives with PTSD….I don\’t even know how to put this into words. In a way, yes: welcome to my world. I have always felt this sense of chaos and uncertainty and vigilance.
And yet. I cannot get relief from my fear and my dread. I am good at pretending–to myself, included–that everything is okay. I developed that skill from early childhood, before I even knew I h ad PTSD. I have done that since getting diagnosed, as the story <THIS MUST STAY A SECRET> so dominated my life. But nothing prepared me for the fact that when it TRULY is not okay, when something awful is ACTUALLY happening, as opposed to my own internal trigger, it can be depleting beyond anything I\’ve experienced before.
I asked a dear friend, one of my \”framily\” friends, my people, why she felt so differently than I did. It was a genuine question, I really wanted to understand. I asked her: \”is it that you aren\’t that afraid you\’ll get infected? Or that if you do, you\’ll survive it okay?\”
\”Yes,\” she replied. \”Yes to both.\”
Part of me knows that this is a luxury I don\’t have. She knows it too, she doesn\’t dismiss my experience, she receives it and holds it as sacred; she just has a different one.
Part of me thinks: she is naive. Why would she be any less likely to get this than anyone else? I mean, she takes the precautions. But she\’ll do things I haven\’t done yet (drive out of state, stay at a hotel)–and, more significantly, she doesn\’t carry this fear in her body. She doesn\’t think about this all the time, like I do. She isn\’t Highly Sensitive. She isn\’t an Empath. She doesn\’t have PTSD.
All of me is envious of her. Sometimes the longing to NOT be so attuned to what is happening, to NOT have experienced trauma so early and literally developed around it, is palpable for me. Lately, more than sometimes.
There are gifts to all of those traits, experiences, diagnoses I have. There are gifts I wouldn\’t trade for anything. Mostly, I accept who I am.
But FUCK the struggle is real.
If you identify with any of this, if one word of this resonates with you: know that I wrote this for you.
You are not alone.
I see you.
I honor you.
It\’s HARD. All the time, but especially right now.
[image: stock photo of a woman pulling a very large boulder up a hill, by a relatively thin chain]