The hole in me is oceans wide.
From all the love I’ve been denied.
Filling it I have tried
With shopping, busyness, until I’m fried. Continue reading “Empty”
Dreaming of sweet summer days with you,
The world fades away
It is only us
Swimming in the sparkling sea,
Ripples of light dancing through me,
Everything I’ve been missing is crystal clear.
I am your only hope,
I will take away your pain.
I will be your umbrella
In the endless rain
Come to me, my weary child,
And I will give you rest.
Ignore those who oppose me,
For I do know you best.
Thirteen years of social exile,
Slander, fear and pretend.
A broken, fucked up family.
Losing your best friend.
The destruction of our planet,
No chance to start anew.
Radiation and noise everywhere you go,
This world is not for you.
You will not be taking your life,
For there’s no life left to take.
Your spirit died a long time back,
Your smile is only fake.
So when you’re feeling lonely,
Remember I am always here.
You don’t have to suffer
Yet another year.
Wash me away,
I do not want to exist today.
I hide my head beneath thick fog.
Alone,
Lost,
Strong I am not.
My tears turn me to valleys,
They run all the way to sea,
To your heart and to your home,
Can you feel me?
When I was a child, my parents took me to Rainbow’s End in Auckland, New-Zealand. Being the impulsive child I was, I dived at the tallest ride in the park. Before I knew it I was strapped into a seat which took me and a few others up a massive pole. At the very top, one would enjoy views all over Auckland; that is, before we were suddenly dropped. The drop may have only lasted five or ten seconds, but they were the longest seconds of my life. I begged for the ride to be over and it completely killed my motivation to go on most rides again. I used to get a thrill out of being scared, but this fear was another level altogether. That is exactly what my experience with Ayahuasca was like: being strapped into this thing with no control over its course.
Continue reading “My experience with ayahuasca”
I sit before a plainly dressed, earnest woman and my new case worker. My case worker introduces the woman as a psychiatrist in training. No time is wasted before my mind is picked apart, dissected, analysed like a specimen under a microscope. I am asked a series of questions, questions I have been asked so many times I could rehearse it all back to them. Continue reading “Suicide”
Many highly sensitive people/empaths are magnets for narcissists. This is not because we are like them, but because we are light to their darkness, Shahida Arabi writes.
“Regardless of any of our vulnerabilities, we exhibit the gorgeous traits of empathy, compassion, emotional intelligence and authentic confidence that their fragile egotism and false mask could never achieve.”
This post is about some of the strategies the narcissist and other toxic people use to maintain control over their victims. It will cover love bombing, projection, abusing what we’ve told them, jealousy, stone walling, scapegoating, gas lighting, isolation, hoovering, smear campaigns, and finally, discarding. Continue reading “Narcissists and toxic relationships”
A few years ago I discovered the term “disenfranchied grief”. The term describes grief that is not acknowledged by society. I think a lot of HSPs may be able to relate to this type of grief as, like most things, we tend to experience loss and separation more acutely. We love deeply and we grieve just as deep. It is hard for people to understand how we can hurt so much (or for so long) over something which seems relatively small or unimportant. We may find ourselves grieving the death of a relationship as though the person has died. We may grieve a friend as though we’ve broken up with a romantic partner (there is a great article on Psychology Today where Seth writes about how the emotional bond people feel with a close friend is as close or closer than the bond with their romantic partner). It may not even be a person we grieve, but an animal, object, place or loss of physical or mental function. Yet in our society, it is hard to get the same sympathy and support for these things as people do when someone, such as a family member, has died. Or when we’ve broken up with our partner. Sometimes we cannot even speak about our loss due to stigma. It may have been a secret relationship or we may have been diagnosed with a sexually transmitted infection. This also leads to disenfranchised grief. Continue reading “Disenfranchised grief”
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