There I was, adrift amongst the ocean of monotonous routine and empty acts that had become my life, lost in a loneliness and pointlessness that had no horizon. The vastness and emptiness was consuming. Every attempt to fill this void with false people, empty relationships and hopeless hobbies. I was treading water, trying to keep my head above the surface whilst enduring wave after wave of loneliness, insecurity and frustration. I feared that I would be out here forever. Continue reading “The lighthouse”
I’ve always been one for talking. Ever since I was a child I would talk on end. Even to this day I can find it difficult to remain silent. This is due to a variety of deep seeded insecurities and a fear of coming across as boring or disatisfying. Though over the years I have found that with practice it has become easier. This is not to say that I do not see the enjoyment or satisfaction of a genuine conversation. But my words were often without meaning or place. Continue reading “The art of stillness”
“The only people who will be upset by the raising of your boundaries are the ones who were benefiting from you not having any”
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”
Mistress of the Sea, they call you.
But I now know you were a siren,
And I was a sailor riding your sea of bitterness and sorrow,
Lured by your enchanting music
To shipwreck on the rocky coast of your island.
I cannot shake the idea of you
Your sweetness a computer program installed in my head and heart.
It cannot be deleted
even now I find it’s infected with viruses
that are taking over my entire system,
destroying me from the inside out.