“From the first moments of life, our being strives to be in harmony with our surroundings and with each other.” ~ Dr. Sharon Keller

I know what it is to want to belong and yet be unable to. When you face the tears and ongoing agony of a long term unnamed condition, you value every insight that comes your way. I remember being a socially receptive child, but as I grew older, I began feeling more out of place without knowing why. I put on a facade, yet below the surface, I couldn’t make sense of the loud, hard-hitting, competitive climate that prevailed each day.

I adopted a cool detached persona in order to survive. As a loyal people pleaser, I found it exhausting to keep in step with boisterous community standards. There was no escaping the commotion: The desire to be left alone, the necessity of down time, the strain of trying to make sense of social dynamics – made daily life a painful boot-camp existence.

Without a plan of action, having a highly-sensitized temperament is debilitating. It adversely affects your relationships when your heightened emotional responses include unresolved codependency issues.  Without meaning to, you approach love from a place of scarcity.  From a subconscious level, this insecure attachment interferes with your strong need for connection.
~ vincenzo ©

When it comes to excessive noise, chaos or oppressive environments, I feel these with greater intensity. Although I can sometimes disguise it, it can drain me of warmth and vitality.  This is because I have a sensitive artistic temperament. There are other terms for this mode of being like over-excitability, overload or overwhelm. It often accompanies introversion and artistic giftedness. Having this sensitive nature is challenging in a world where the ideal man is admired for having nerves of steel, resoluteness and making hard and fast decisions.

The idea of emotional fitness awakens a keen sense of hope. I long to live beyond the survival mode — learning to manage the personal chaos within and without. Humanly speaking, I cannot comprehend how I made it to the present – how my body could withstand the rollercoaster episodes of the past.

All of the above has made it imperative to carve out my own piece of reality rather than permitting others to define how I feel, think or act. Michele Moore articulates the essence of this article in her credo:

“If we don’t decide what sort of person we want to be and become and then work to become that person, our environment and our experience determine both our identity and our destiny for us. They may not always serve us well.”