Growing up with hypersensitivity · 3:59pm Apr 2nd, 2021
Hiya, lovely peeps.
My name is Uz Naimat, I am 18 years old and I am hypersensitive.
I was born as a Highly Sensitive Person, or HSP for short. Dr. Elaine Aron describes in her book, The Highly Sensitive Person, that an HSP is, in simple terms, a person whose emotions are on high alert. Us HSPs feel the world in a much more vivid way than everyone else. We are in touch with our emotions and we allow ourselves to feel fully. Hypersensitivity is not a disorder; it’s a personality type.
Growing up with it is hard.
When I was younger, say 8 or so, I used to ask myself a lot of ‘why’ questions. Why do I cry so much? Why can’t I watch scary or violent movies? Why can’t I handle the news? Why do I get a painful stomach ache when my parents fight? Why is my tea always so burning hot? Why do I so excited when my mother says she’ll making my favorite meal? Why can’t I be different?
And I only recently discovered the answers. I cry because my emotions run high. Violence is disturbing and gives me nightmares. Bad news is reality and shakes me to my core. Conflicts gives me physical symptoms. My sensitivity makes me more receptive to pain. For me, simple things which should only make me happy make me ecstatic.
All of that is because I’m an HSP.
My HSP-ism governs every aspect of my life, from the movies I watch to the music I listen. From the topics I talk about to the subjects I study. From my taste in food to my relationships. From the clothes I wear to the events I attend. Everything I do connects, in one way or another, to my hypersensitive side.
“Gee, Uz. Being an HSP is almost like being cursed,” you say.
Well, you’re wrong. Hypersensitivity is, as mentioned before, not a disorder. It’s a genetic trait you’re born with, like having brown eyes, curly hair or tan skin. It’s also not a choice. But I love myself wholeheartedly, and I love my HSP-ism. Because it’s beautiful way of life.
Being in touch with your emotions is more than just crying constantly. Sensitivity makes you appreciate the small things in life. I would savor every bite of that cupcake because it’s a slice of Heaven. I would compare the stars nightsky to twinkling diamonds. I would stare at gardens and be like, “What a lovely shade of green.” I would hug my parents and not let go because they radiate cozy warmth. I would be deeply moved by every love ballad I hear. I would the pain of every marginalized group and sympathize with them.
All of that because I’m an HSP.
Because an HSP makes you appreciate the small things. We also notice the subtleties of life, things others can’t pick up on. I remember one time I was with my Dad and my Mom called us. I answered and the first thing that sprang into my mind was how sad she sounded. When we saw her again, she was indeed sad and desolate. My Dad, who could not infer her tone of voice, asked me, “How did you know?” And I replied, “I just did.”
That said, being able to notice the subtle details tends me to make analyze and infer. When I was 15, I chose Literature in English as an elective for my Cambridge School Certificate. I was drawn to the chance of getting grades for analysis and interpretation, which was something I was already doing in real life.
HSPs live life more vividly. This extends beyond real life and includes dreams. My dreams feel real. I wake up in the morning and whisper, “Wow! That was a dream?” I’m also prone tp daydreaming. My imagination and creativity knows no bounds. You can see that from my stories. Aside from My Little Pony, I’m also invested in Harry Potter fanfiction and original fiction.
Imagination is my coping mechanism; it’s a form of escapism. I get to temporarily leave the world we live in. This is also the reason I enjoy animation so much, because it’s literally imagination brought to life on a screen. Hence why I’m here, on this site. Hence why my favorites media include Disney Princesses, Barbie, and the like.
I feel very strongly for issues that do not concern me because I empathize with people. I understand the struggle of discriminated and marginalized groups, despite never having (thankfully) experienced it. People of color, the LGBTQ+ community, women, the disabled, immigrants and everything in between. This, in turn, makes me more open-minded while simultaneously putting me at odds with my family.
Growing up in a family who isn’t as sensitive as me was tough. My parents, though they love me, don’t understand. As a child and as a young woman, I often hear things like, “Stop being such a crybaby,” “You’re too soft and weak,” and the best one yet, “Toughen up.” It took forever to realize that, while my loved ones meant well, they were wrong. Hypersensitivity, that is often mistaken as shyness and introvert-ness, is who I am. I’m not ‘weak’ or ‘soft’ and no, the world ‘will not crush me’. I’m strong in my own, more subtle ways.
I love myself, and to my fellow HSPs, so should you. Embrace your gentle side and your emotions. Feel free to cry with sorrow and squeal with delight. Love your sensitivity and all that comes with it.
To those who live with HSPs, don’t demean them. It’s who we are, and we’ll figure it out. Crying isn’t wrong; abstaining from scary movies isn’t wrong, feeling pain isn’t wrong.
Let me close by with this:
”HSPs are real and we’ve proven it. That alone is something to celebrate.”
~ Dr. Elaine Aron
I want to say, first of all: I'm glad you felt comfortable enough with yourself to be able to share this. This sort of thing isn't easy to talk about. Mental health, whether illness, conditional, or simply a different way of thinking and processing the world, it's all stigmatized.
Secondly, I think I understand where you're coming from better than a lot of people might. I have a condition called borderline personality disorder which, on the surface, strongly resembles being highly sensitive. I have the same type of strong emotions. I cry easily, I emphasize easily, I feel horrible over little mistakes, etc. It however, differs in a lot of respects, such as a lack of emotional permanence, or sudden inappropriate, intense anger, impulsive behavior, difficulty with self worth, etc. When combined with my being autistic, it results in massive communication difficulties and other problems that I was not able to come to grips with until my late 20s, and still struggle with to this day on a daily basis. Of course there are also other issues in the mix as well, but, that's getting into too much detail.
My point, and reason for mentioning all of this, is that I understand where you're coming from, and I support you, wholly. I get what you're saying on a level not a lot of people would.
As I scrolled down to make a comment, I noticed three comments deleted out of four (as of this date). It kind of makes me squint and ask myself, "Why? What did you two say that you regret saying? If it was worth deleting it, why was it posted in the first place?"
Anyway, one of the thoughts that formulated in my mind is that this life of yours seems to put an intense emphasis in the Heart chakra. If you also receive psychic emotional impressions like walking into a seemingly innocent room that has a bloody history and you just "know" that something is wrong, then I might say you may have mastered the heart chakra. This condition causes life to intensify in every way possible, positively and negatively. At the end of this life, you'll no longer have to wonder what this kind of lifestyle is like. You'd have your answer. Curiosity satisfied.
Also, I wasn't aware that you were so young. Armed with this new knowledge, this doesn't change my opinion of you that much. All it really means, in my book, is a loose indication how much more time you have to experience life and how long it's been so far. It's also a little nostalgic to think back where I was eighteen years ago. In my case, I moved to this place near the end of that year. Prior to that I moved around a lot more than I cared for. This stability has been very nice. Also this is a very nice place.
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“Every time someone steps up and reveal who they are, the world becomes a better, more interesting place.”
~ Captain Raymond Holt, Brooklyn Nine-Nine
I’ve done my fair share of research on BPD, and of you ever need to talk about it, I’m here and willing to listen.
And I support you, too.
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The three deleted comments have nothing to do with the blog itself. The user, who constantly changes username, had... hurt me in the past. They had threatened my friends and called me a bitch behind my back. I replied to their comments on this blog, not knowing it was them because of the new user name. When I did realize, I deleted the comments in a fit of rage.
I’ll be the first to admit: I know nothing about Chakras. I’m religious, but not spiritual. I don’t believe in crystal, third eyes or four-leaf clovers. Bit it’s okay if you do, though. I’ve nothing against it.
That being said, I can read a room. I remember this one time, my Dad came to pick me up from school, and the second I stepped in the car, my mind went, “Something’s wrong.” The tension in the car and the stiffness of his voice were an indication that he had an argument with my mother. I was right.
And yes, I’m fairly young. I actually made a birthday blog last year.