The highly sensitive blogger

Well, howdy!

I've obviously been in the midst of a blogging hiatus. I've been writing, of course, but after blathering on for several paragraphs, I pause, highlight, cut, paste and save, somewhere else.

There are two reasons for me not blogging much lately. First, after a summer of profound and sudden loss, we, as a family, are struggling with many challenges, one of which is understanding temperament and personality traits that have always been present but have recently been exacerbated. Much of this is too personal to share here, because most of it is not my story to tell. The rest is below.

I've always known I am a sensitive person - I weep at any commercial with a dog or a baby and HEAVEN HELP ME if there is a dog AND a baby - but I didn't honestly give my temperament as a whole much thought. Reading "The Highly Sensitive Child" and "The Highly Sensitive Person" earlier this summer was like hearing a clarion call. Suddenly, the knowledge that I am "highly sensitive" colors everything I see and do and think about myself and the world around me. So many things make sense, pieces of me are fitting into a greater whole in ways I never previously understood. Even after years of therapy, I've been simply blown away with new self-knowledge.

This has been deeply unsettling. Add in the other person who shares my temperament and her recent challenges and you have a recipe for MUCH journaling but not much blogging.

The other reason for a blogging hiatus is this: a fracquaintance (we've been to each other's house for several meals but I wouldn't exactly call him up on the phone to shoot the breeze) has been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer that has spread to his bones and brain. (Googling the survival rates for his cancer right before bedtime was not my best move of late. [Um, HELLO, dingbat. Remember you're highly sensitive?]) He is 36 years old. He's never smoked.

He has a wife and two children under five.

I know this happens. I just can't handle it happening to people I know, to "young", healthy people. Fathers. Not after our summer. We were just getting over thinking and talking about death all the time.

It simply breaks my heart into millions of tiny, sad, angry pieces.

I keep trying to write about something else. But thoughts about these profoundly sad and difficult issues are all that come out.

Hopefully writing this will help clear my mind and make room for something else, ANYTHING ELSE, to think, and write, about.


Marie Green said...

Oh, darling, this all sucks so much. I do hope that writing and finding support helps bring you peace... it's such a helpless feeling when someone is sick or someone dies. We have absolutely no control over it, to the point of it being maddening.

This is a time when I wish I could rearrange the map so all my blog friends were nearby. Then I'd come over and chase around your toddler and make you tea and pita bread and bring you a bag of fresh apples and local cheddar cheese. Then it'd be time to go pick up my big girls, and I'd bring Z with me (she and Marin would refuse to separate, so it'd make the most sense just to bring her) and we'd go to the park while E napped.

I really wish I could do those things for you. Geography sucks.

Marie Green said...

P.S. I have a sensitive girl too, and parenting her has been the most challenging and most beautiful experience. We'd talk about that too, over our tea.

Anonymous said...

I feel your pain. We recently had a 32 year old family member diagnosed with likely terminal lung cancer. He has a young child as well. These things make no sense. My hope is that there will not be much suffering.

artemisia said...

Oh, this is all so horrible. It is a testament to your character that you allow yourself to empathize with the people around you. I am sorry for all of this bad news, though.

My thoughts are with you.

Amy said...

I had this feeling when I read "Raising the Spirited Child" and one aspect being that on the "more" scale spirited children tend toward being more sensitive. And that this is a personality trait that one has before birth and will always have.

Like my kid, I too am uber sensitive and it is funny how a parenting book enlightened me about myself.

On all the yucky stuff, I am so sorry you are going through it.

Swistle said...

1. The boy who was my first date at 15 died of never-smoked lung cancer when we were 30. I still sometimes get knocked over by it.

2. I put that book on my library list.

Kathi McCracken Dente said...

I am worried young people dying of cancer will be the defining characteristic of our generation. I am sorry your life has been touched by it all. I have been haunted since Rebecca passed. It gets me to my core. Big hugs to you. I wish I could do more to make it go away for all of us.

Gina said...

Both Thomas and I are "sensitive" people, but my husband and second son - only 18 months old, are clearly not. It makes for some interesting dynamics.

When Thomas was three days old my OB who delivered Thomas had a horrible tragedy occur: her husband was killed in a freak car accident. She had three children and was 37 weeks pregnant with her fourth. The idea that such things can happen still haunts me today. The only comfort I take is in knowing that I have a pretty close family and should something horrible happen to any one of us we would all take care of each other.

clueless but hopeful mama said...

I know it shouldn't help to hear that so many other people have lost young friends and family but for some reason, it does. It truly does. Thank you for your empathy.

Now let's all put Marie Green's fantastic idea into practice and meet for tea!

MG- any time you're in Virginia...!

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