My nervous system is on steroids. You don’t know how many times I have Googled that sentence. Not surprisingly, I got another highly sensitive person’s website. But still, I don’t think they quite know the extent of it. People say sensitivity is a wonderful trait, but not sensitivity to this extent. If I could make this go away I would. My nervous system detects threat in everything these days. I have been left with chronic pain radiating down to my fingers from a massage years ago. Recently I started hearing a noise which sounds a bit like an electrical hum or mosquito. I went to the doctor about it a week ago. I wish I didn’t. He poked his instrument in my ears to see if I had an ear infection and my ears have been hurting ever since. Everyone’s confused how such a benign procedure could cause lasting pain. But inserting anything into my body is a huge no I’m realising. My nervous system is totally fucked; it is like having a car alarm that goes off at the slightest touch and doesn’t stop. I have pain receptors everywhere it seems, I can’t sleep, I hear the world ten times louder than most people and am constantly in a fight, flight, freeze, flop, fawn state. My physiotherapist tells me to practice mindfulness but I think it’s a bit beyond that now. I hate being alive. I hate being in this body. I hate being in this world. I’m assaulted by noise even in my own home with dogs barking, neighbours waking me with their violently noisy electric leaf blower, hammering, and basketball game. Saturday night party heads. People are annoying as fuck. Feels like I live in a completely different world to everyone else. Today a friend from high school texted me. She told me her younger siblings have all had babies now. The last I remember of them were when they were school kids, my friend’s younger sister an obnoxious teenager who blasted Big Girls Don’t Cry by Fergie from their chunky desktop computer when I came over to visit them at their old house back in the early 2000s. People my age are starting careers, families and having babies, while I am 32 and have never had a relationship as I am always in survival mode around people and can’t let people get close to me. Feels like the world has moved on while I am stuck in this sickness amber. Trauma does emotionally freeze us at the ages it occurred. People are just wandering around with their heads in the clouds while a subset of the population suffer stuff most people couldn’t even fathom. I just want to go live on a deserted island, or even better another planet. But it’s not going to fix the pain and all the damage that’s already been done. I am depressed and distressed every day and can barely do anything. I suffer for a living. I wish I got paid to breathe. Life is like a turbulent plane ride. As I said in my last post, I have no quality of life and at this point life has become about surviving the days and trying to minimise my distress until I finally die. What is the point in living? I seem to exist just to suffer, and perhaps write a book about it, if I survive long enough for it to get published.