Sensitivity   Leave a comment

If there is one word you could use to describe me, this would be it.

I’m emotionally sensitive, morally sensitive, physically sensitive, sensorily sensitive, and probably several other kinds of sensitive.

I can’t handle conflict amongst friends or even acquaintances and will sometimes literally go hide.

I feel horrible when something comes up that I think is wrong which I can do nothing about, or if I have done something wrong, I find it difficult to receive forgiveness and stop feeling guilt.

When I take a new medication or supplement, about 75% of the time, you guessed it, I have to discontinue said substance because it causes side effects, often side effects that I am not “supposed” to be experiencing.

I don’t go to concerts, aside from classical music, because they are just too loud, too many people, too many lights.  I can’t watch a scary or intense movie before bedtime, because I get so into it that I cannot go to sleep.

Shoot, I can’t even finish a difficult book all in one sitting.  I have checked out Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch twice and I still haven’t finished it.  I’ve got about 130 pages to go and I’m so connected with Theo Decker that I think I am him or his mother or Pippa.  And I just can’t keep reading right now.  I have to step back and find a safer place for a while.

My father in law once said, when I got my fur rubbed the wrong way by one of his off-hand comments, that I was just too sensitive.

At the time I was offended, but now I fully agree.  He was right!  I am.

I might as well be a red-head, which would have been some compensation, because I definitely fit the stereotype of thin-skinned and hot-tempered!  And furthermore, sunlight doesn’t make me tan.  I either burn or make more freckles…..

My life would be more straightforward and I would waste a lot less time getting my feelings hurt, if I weren’t so sensitive.

So I wonder, what is the good of this ridiculous sensitivity?

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Posted August 29, 2014 by swanatbagend in identity

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