I never really used to think about my childhood (because it overwhelms me with guilt), but I have a niece now, so my mom is always talking about when I was little. I was really sensitive as a child (and still am). I used to ask my parents to change nursery rhymes in which someone experienced being left out because I felt so sad for those characters. My brother wasn’t always nice to stuffed animals, and I’d never be able to deal with him hurting them and would have to “rescue” those little things and try to heal them. I was really into people like Jane Addams with all of their volunteering. I worried that everyone walked around with a dark secret and felt privately incredibly sad and alone (so I wanted to treat everyone very nicely). I felt tons of overwhelming guilt as a child. I’ve had insomnia for as long as I can remember, and I’d just lie there awake trying to place my guilt. I was also a perfectionist as a child, and I felt very responsible for everyone and for any sadness they’d feel.
Now, I’m 19 and in college, and I’m still very sensitive. I’ve NEVER been the type of person who shares my feelings (it took an eating disorder forum to be able to share them anonymously online). I’m just very into trying to make others feel good and into listening to others and being supportive, however, I would NEVER cry in front of someone or be anything other than super upbeat in front of people. I accidentally squashed a bug when trying to clean out the shed we store our lawn mower in, and I tried to revive it (that sounds weird, and bugs petrify me, but they can feel pain and I accidentally caused it pain and took its life); I felt horrible. My mom told me about a teenager from one town over who died in an accident (I didn’t know him), and I didn’t realize it until she said, “I wasn’t sure I should tell you, but I didn’t want you to hear it on the news,” but I’m freakishly sensitive (she didn’t feel the need to tell my brother what had happened lest he hear it on the news). It happened over the summer, and I still think about him and his family, and if people talk about it I want to cry (and I do cry privately over it; I just keep on thinking of his family and of what he may have wanted to do with his life). I think about every person I pass on the street and wonder what their lives are like and about how they feel and about what they might need in their lives, and I pray that they feel special (and that makes me sound beyond evil and self-centered and creepy, but I don't mean to be).
It’s probably insanely weak of me to be so sensitive, but I don’t even know how it happened. No one else in my family is overly sensitive (and I’m there when they’re drunk and pouring (or ranting) out all of their feelings). I understand that a combination of nature and nurture contribute to one’s personality, but I feel like I turned out to be scarily sensitive (I feel guilty all the time and become overwhelmed by extra guilt randomly, and I just can’t separate myself from the pain in the world, if that makes any sense at all—I act super perky, but, like I said, I can’t separate from the pain of the world). Is it normal to just be sensitive? Is it okay to feel a lot? I feel like it’s immature to be sensitive, but I just want for other people to be okay.
I appreciate your time. Thank you.
Now, I’m 19 and in college, and I’m still very sensitive. I’ve NEVER been the type of person who shares my feelings (it took an eating disorder forum to be able to share them anonymously online). I’m just very into trying to make others feel good and into listening to others and being supportive, however, I would NEVER cry in front of someone or be anything other than super upbeat in front of people. I accidentally squashed a bug when trying to clean out the shed we store our lawn mower in, and I tried to revive it (that sounds weird, and bugs petrify me, but they can feel pain and I accidentally caused it pain and took its life); I felt horrible. My mom told me about a teenager from one town over who died in an accident (I didn’t know him), and I didn’t realize it until she said, “I wasn’t sure I should tell you, but I didn’t want you to hear it on the news,” but I’m freakishly sensitive (she didn’t feel the need to tell my brother what had happened lest he hear it on the news). It happened over the summer, and I still think about him and his family, and if people talk about it I want to cry (and I do cry privately over it; I just keep on thinking of his family and of what he may have wanted to do with his life). I think about every person I pass on the street and wonder what their lives are like and about how they feel and about what they might need in their lives, and I pray that they feel special (and that makes me sound beyond evil and self-centered and creepy, but I don't mean to be).
It’s probably insanely weak of me to be so sensitive, but I don’t even know how it happened. No one else in my family is overly sensitive (and I’m there when they’re drunk and pouring (or ranting) out all of their feelings). I understand that a combination of nature and nurture contribute to one’s personality, but I feel like I turned out to be scarily sensitive (I feel guilty all the time and become overwhelmed by extra guilt randomly, and I just can’t separate myself from the pain in the world, if that makes any sense at all—I act super perky, but, like I said, I can’t separate from the pain of the world). Is it normal to just be sensitive? Is it okay to feel a lot? I feel like it’s immature to be sensitive, but I just want for other people to be okay.
I appreciate your time. Thank you.