Here’s What Nobody Likes To Admit About Being A Sensitive Soul

I feel too much. I feel anything, and everything. I feel it all, in tidal waves, and floods.

I wear the label sensitive,/em>, sewn onto my heart. It has been so long now, the threads have infused into my being, leaving no trail or trace. Sensitivity and I, are now one, and I can’t see a way to tear him off.

This is who I am.

And it’s all too much for my body to bear. Too many feelings. They never let up, they never take a day off. Always following me around, coursing through my blood, suffocating my brain, wherever I go, whatever I do.

But I don’t want to be the sensitive girl anymore. I don’t want this label. I want nothing more than to rip it off. I pray to be unlabelled. Sometimes, I darkly imagine if it would be better to feel nothing.

Because I don’t want to cry anymore.

I don’t want to keep getting phantom bruised and cut, by the people I love the most. I don’t want those I care about to be treading on eggshells around me, thinking every time before they speak, weighing up the decision to share their honest opinion, a silly joke, or how they’re truly feeling. I’m tired of flying off the handle at the tiniest jab, and for the tears that spring uncontrollably into my eyes in a heartbeat. I eventually convince myself they don’t mean it, and are sorry for hurting me, until the next time comes around.

And I don’t know how to stop.

I can no longer stomach, walking past every beggar, every sad or lonely stranger, every tragedy staring me down on TV. Because each time, I feel my heart breaking in two. I feel torn, helpless, and inconsolable. Because I cannot fix this. I know that. And it crushes me inside, knowing I have to live with this feeling. And knowing the exact same flood of emotions will return soon enough, and consume me once again.

And I don’t know how to stop.

I’m tired of taking on the world’s problems. My family, my friends, and people I haven’t even met yet. Because all of their problems, naturally become my own. I listen to people’s worries, their losses, and their dilemmas, unconsciously drinking them in as I do. Giving, giving, and then giving some more. Giving every last piece of myself away. I’m a basket case, overflowing with issues, yet still taking on more every damn day.

And I just don’t know how to stop.

I’ve given so much of myself away to people who came and went in a flash. Because I am the sensitive girl who chooses to trust. I believe in people, and in the good. I open myself up so easily, to strangers I’ve only just met. I put myself in the firing line, unknowingly, because this is simply who I am. I don’t know how to begin being anybody else. And most of the time, people reach and grab what they want, and leave. Leaving me, to pick my shattered pieces up all over again.

I naively think there must be no tears left to shed, yet somehow they relentlessly surface and stream. I crave protection, some kind of armour for my soul. I need a blanket to tightly wrap myself up in, and soften every blow.

If this is what being labelled sensitive means, I don’t want to wear this badge anymore. Please, let me give it back.

Please, make it stop.