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I Honestly Didn’t Think I Could be Anymore Sensitive — But I Am

5/25/2020

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Picture
Photo by Joanna Nix-Walkup on Unsplash

​There have been more days than not during the last two months, where my mind and heart have ached during COVID-19. It’s a visceral reaction.

Even my skin feels triggered from my ‘depth of processing’ which Dr. Elaine Aron, founder and researcher of highly sensitive people, (HSP) refers to as one of the four characteristics of being an HSP.

In addition to my own thoughts, I’m picking up on a collective fear, worry and grief.

My sensitivity is on high alert. I honestly didn’t think I could be anymore sensitive — but I am.

Dr. Aron, describes HSP’s as individuals who “[have] a sensitive nervous system, are aware of subtleties in [their] surroundings, and are more easily overwhelmed when in a highly stimulating environment.”

What’s more — how will I move forward? What will my new normal look like?

I know for sure I can’t go backwards, and that’s good.

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When Sadness Visits: The Story of Depression

11/4/2018

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PicturePhotographer: Polina Nefidova
When sadness comes, welcome her as you would joy. She has a message too. Joy is simple to share; there’s something warm to hold onto.

But with sorrow, there’s an abyss that struggles to find the narrowest ledge. Grey drains to empty. The sands underneath shift with torrential rains. Midnight stays, and songs lay low with the bass of sorrow’s belly.

Sorrow is a warrior’s instrument reaching inside and using rib to strum heart. She is alone. Thoughts can drown there. Tiny opaqu
e birds will peck at the remains of the shedding skin too small for what is to come.

In sorrow’s snare spiritual growth isn’t vertical; it wanders like plankton far out to sea – lost and speaks a language of eyes-closed-dreaming-wild. Its words burn defeat.

Sadness will engulf all successes and erase them to a dried shell abandoned on a beach. And there, the carcass waits for life to circle through.

Sorrow’s tears are the sea healing what feels insurmountable. The passage of time ends to let wind blow through the hollow holes of loneliness.

​Only those who can recognize will hear the oboe’s lament. A bittersweet song of hope.
​

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    About 

    Carolyn Riker is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor (LMHC) in private practice. She is also an author of three books. Her most recent book is "My Dear, Love Hasn't Forgotten You."

    Carolyn has a blog on Medium. You can follow her on Facebook page: Carolyn M. Riker, MA, LMHC, or her Instagram page.

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