I miss the fellowship… it’s hard to explain and if you’re actually reading this I apologize. It’s probably not something you’d be able to understand. It’s just me giving into what most of society would assume to be a delusion. I can try to explain the madness and the insanity, but at the end you’d just doubt me and that is something my heart can not take right now.
The easiest thing for me to be honest about is this – I’m an empath. That means that I experience the feelings of others through a connective process (speech, touch, close relationships, etc.). I feel their feelings as if they are my own. I can not distinguish what is actually me or some one else. Others near me might see me burst into tears or giggle which can occur at highly inappropriate times. It happens when some one connected with me experiences a very powerful emotion.
On the day of the Paris terror attacks I was very unsettled. I keep telling the man no one has the right to end someone else’s life. I didn’t know what kept making me say that. It didn’t pertain to anything going on in my life and yet I was scared, sad, and angry. I found out that night about the attacks and when I calculated the time zone difference it was exactly when I had my “anxiety” attack.
My mood can effect the mood of others with no verbal or physical output. My emotions leak into the air. If I had a bad day at work everyone experiences my tension when I walk in my front door even if I don’t reflect my mood. For the good and well being of those I love, it’s imperative that I always stay positive.
Sometimes people “hear” my thoughts. They know the exact phrase I’ll think in my head even if I said nothing in reality. I really despise this phenomenon. My thoughts should be just for me especially if I never intended to vocally utter them.
I could go on and on about my peculiar quirks. I use to belong to an online community connecting me to people like me. There ended up being too much drama so I dropped it like a bad habit. Days like today make me wish that I hadn’t. I miss feeling like a drop in the oddball ocean. In my isolation I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb. I’m forced to keep this part of me hidden for fear of violent scrutiny.