Sensitivity: realization

I always had this issue in life where I would take things too personally. Little comments, remarks, small gestures, they would have such a huge subliminal impact on me to the point where it would bother me for ages. Sometimes I would act on it, albeit overreact and give people the rise they may or may not be wanting, or I would used to shelve it, and it become a massive mess when I would go volcanic. Instead of shelving any pain, I have been just trying to get it out of my system by exercising, and learning not to take things so personally. Rather than seeing anything as a personal attack on me as a person, I just try to understand where they are coming from, what their intentions are, and what I did to affect them to cause such behavior, or if their attitude was just normal to begin with, and I was misinterpreting their actions.

Half the time I get hurt or affected by the behavior of others, it is because something is stressing me out already, such as getting a job, family or friends-related issues, for example. I am already at a vulnerable state at that point, so little things would just get under my skin easily. I would always get so bothered to the point where I would not stop thinking about comments or remarks that irked me, and I would even lose sleep over how angry or annoyed I would get. It was not a pleasant habit, in the slightest. This kind of toxic, grudge-forming behavior is what caused a lot of problems for me in the past. I would burn so many bridges and be outcasted by so many people because I would get so easily hurt and would push other people away so quickly.

Unfortunately, that sensitivity had stages. The second paragraph described stage 1 of my toxically sensitive behavior. The second phase, it would get worse. I would not stop being affected by the fact that I pushed people away. That sort of guilt, it really does eat away at you. I would feel more remorse than you could imagine over hurting people like that, and it quickly turns to self-resentment. And I’m sure I’ve written enough about that to the point where it is guessable where self-resentment would eventually turn to. Like I said, sensitivity to that extreme, it is a vicious cycle that I have been trapped in for two occasions of my life already. At that point in time, I thought that I couldn’t really do anything about it, but that’s not the case. There is a way to break out of the cycle.

Distract yourself from these things by not thinking about them, but rather, focusing on things that you enjoy doing once you cannot do anything more in pursuit of your goals. Do not let the little things and thoughts bother you. Don’t read to deep into things, and try to excavate hidden meanings beyond what is actually there. Some might call it a naive way of living, but I call it building up a wall of indifference so that you have the space and time to grow thicker skin to these kinds of comments and remarks. I genuinely can’t stress enough how important it is to not take things to heart so often. When you do, it opens you up to that vulnerability, and if you are an overtly sensitive person to begin with, it will only end with you taking everything too personally and getting offended quite easily. Learning to relax, let go, and not get offended, that’s what it means to live a featherlight life.

 

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Magic: dream 22

If you expected this post to be about a world of magical unicorns and Harry Potter-related topics, then go away. This is more of a post dedicated to the MysterySkulls’ song, Magic. It’s this upbeat, jazzy, almost Michael Jackson-esque song about falling in love and never giving up. Which, now that I am describing it, sounds really creepy. Like watches-you-when-you-use-the-bathroom creepy. Whoops, I just ruined one of my favorite songs. It’s not the first time this has happened. My friend ruined Love Myself by Hailee Steinfeld by redubbing it “Rub Myself” and making it about masturbation. Yeah, I’m going to stop talking about ruining good music now. That will be done in the rest of this entire post. I am about to tell a story that gave one of my favorite songs a very awkward connotation.

So going back to the song Magic. It was my summer 2016 jam. Well, that and Love Myself. Both of the songs just give me fond memories of when I was an intern in Washington D.C., and how much I was looking forward to my final year in college. And both also remind me of a very… interesting incident that happened to me during that summer. So going back even before summer 2016, my friend, who we shall call Rose, and I, we had this thing called the “Monthly Bitch-Out” where we would go to some restaurant, far, far away from our campus, get buzzed, and rant about whatever shit we were bothered by, no-consequences. It was great, because I had a lot of shit I was subjected to as a secretary to a dysfunctional culture club at the time. But one of those things Rose mentioned was her friend, who we shall call Alex for the sake of gender neutrality. Rose complained a lot about how Alex was single and available, but me being the poor drunk I was, just told her that this was our time to talk about ourselves and that Alex can fuck off. I was too tipsy to realize Rose might have been trying to set us up by gauging my interest. Whoops. And then flash forward a couple months, back to summer 2016, and guess who I accidentally sent a friend request to on FaceBook? I did not mean to send it, nor did I realize who I sent it to at first. Until I scrolled through Alex’s photos and saw photos with Rose, and then realized who this person was. So I quickly un-sent the request, only to receive one from Alex. And I felt like I needed to accept it, because I already un-sent mine. Fuck me.

So that long-ass story basically set me up with this awkward expectation that I would meet Alex, and that we could possibly start dating? Yeah, I know. This was a low-point for me. Going back to my whole obsession with being in control and anticipating any situation, I started to fantasize. A lot. THIS IS EMBARRASSING TO WRITE ABOUT…. Okay, powering through the blood flushing to my face right now. I thought about how I could be this power couple with Alex, because we were both really well-accomplish and established people within our college. Alex was a biology and business double major with a minor in dentistry; they were a pre-dental and pre-law student and in multiple organizations, including the business fraternity Alpha Kappa Psi. I am an accounting and Food and Beverage double concentrate with a minor in business, and I was a president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer in four different clubs at that time. I thought it was cute that in the long run, I could give people cavities with my desserts, and then Alex could fix up their teeth. So naturally, me, not having had romantic feelings for anything since the 9th grade, started to really think about being in a relationship with Alex. It got bad.

To this day, I still have not met Alex in real life. Not that I am complaining. If I had met Alex when I was still obsessing over that possibility of us dating, I probably would have lost it. Right now, as I am, I don’t really care as much about being in a relationship. Those sorts of feelings, they should not have been repressed, but rather, not had to begin with. I had not met Alex, so why was I so set on being in a relationship? I know I’m desirable to some extent, so I should not settle on a complete stranger, but rather, I will find my significant other, by being at the right place at the right time. Hasn’t happened yet, nor will I wait on that happening. I’d rather just live my life first. While the song Magic makes me incredibly happy, it still reminds me of that awkward moment when I basically was like a high school fangirl who couldn’t control her hormones over a complete stranger who I have not even met. It makes me smile…and laugh at myself. I still can’t believe after all these years, the possibility of dating somebody could have gotten me this riled up. It just goes to show that I am a human being, and that I have emotions and urges. Yuck. I don’t know if there is any real lesson here, or if any of this has to do with my ideal world. I guess in an ideal world, we can know what to expect out of our lives romantically? That way I would not have set myself up with the expectation that I was going to get into a relationship with basically a complete stranger. There we go. Let’s leave this post at that!

Caring: realization 7

I was always somebody who cared too much. Ironically, caring about what others thought about me was a more recent thing. Typically, I cared too much for others and for organizations I was a part of. There was just something about another person entrusting something to you, carrying that sort of legacy, that really spoke to me. It made me feel like I was a part of something bigger. That is why I really cared about the causes I was a part of, or the people who gave me their time of day. I felt empowered, knowing that others relied on me.

But there is a such thing as being too caring. That’s what I realized when I became a mentor/older sibling figure to several through one of my clubs. I had to look after not even just a family of younger sibling figures, but basically two families’ worth of siblings; thirteen people to be exact. It got to the point where I would lose sleep over being that concerned over all of their wellbeing, their future plans, their lives. It was all-consuming, stressful, and when I felt like none of them even reciprocated that sense of care, it just felt hurtful and depreciating. I let their treatment of me affect me that much. For me, it was excruciating to care for that many people. But when my attention and care is being distributed amongst thirteen people, it gets diffused, diluted, to them, it probably did not seem like I cared that much.

I still don’t understand why I cared so much. Some people seem to know how to not care a lot easier than me. My guilty conscience, it’s probably my biggest weakness. I feel bad knowing that I let others down. It’s like there’s a voice, nagging at me, telling me I could have done more, I could have done better. I guess it stems back to elementary school, when I was frustrated with my fourth grade teacher. To put it bluntly, she was a creativity-smiting, fun-hating, heartless bitch. And in response, I basically went on strike and refused to do almost any of the assignments or tests. And naturally, my grades reflected in that, and my mother would cry hysterically, thinking that I was going to be a failure. So I begrudgingly tried, even though I knew that my doing well in school would reflect well on that oppressor as a teacher.

When it comes to things I love, I care. When it comes to things that pertain to people I resent, I will refuse to try, unless that person can hold something hostage that I do care about; in the fourth grade teacher case, it was my mother emotionally, as that teacher controlled my grades, which in turn, controlled my mother’s emotional security. I guess learning to not care will be a process in itself. Un-investing myself in friendships that aren’t worth it,  causes that waste my time, it will be something that I understand the need for, but still need to work on in the future. I need to know when to and not to care, regardless of what is emotionally charging me. Only then can I live a feather-light life.