I feel everything. It’s overwhelming, and I can’t turn it off. I can’t make it go away. I don’t just see the hurt and brokenness around me, I feel it as if it were my own.
Maybe this is why I become so emotionally charged when I see injustice and cruelty on display. Perhaps it is the reason why so often I want to zealously reach out and cut the head off evil. The reason I become frustrated for being too small to save the world.
Leaving my home fills me with anxiety and anger. Walking through crowds I pick up on emotions, with the most negative sticking to me for a long time. I have a massive amount of compassion rolling through me like waves crashing upon the shoreline. As a result, I offer as many heartfelt smiles and greetings I can muster with the hope that it does some good – no matter how small.
I have been like this for as far as I can remember, but it is only recently that I’ve discovered the connection between this ultra sensitive empathy and my insecurities and anxieties. I wish I could better understand why this is. I wish there was a way to either turn it off, or at least minimize some of the intensity.
This intuition, instinct, or whatever one may call it, has not been a complete burden. It has allowed me to see through walls and illusions others in need have put up. It has granted me the opportunity to give comfort and aid.
I’ve had the opportunity to step in to prevent suicides, interrupt abuse, supply need in place of want and lack, and to give voice to the voiceless. It has been those moments which have encouraged me to persevere; to press on towards higher goals.