Half An Empath

What is an empath?  

I best describe it as the entering another’s person’s feeling and emotions intuitively at times.  My therapist said it’s a horrible trait but one that you can’t help and takes a lot of work to manage (I hate work).  

Think of a sponge – you absorb other’s emotion and physical pain but then the sponge doesn’t leak.  So now there energy is hanging inside you heavy as hell, weighing you down as if you yourself are going through it.  At times it’s like I’ve misplaced myself in this other person.

So I’m an empath, cool – what does that look like for me?  

Being an empath means I jump into relationships – they begin fast and are intense quickly because I dive deep and grab intimacy before I should.  Then that relationship fails because while now I’ve brought you into this deep and intense environment; I will also require distance and regular times of solitude but if you don’t want it I will not get it because I want to give you what you need.

Being an empath means people get addicted to me because I take them in.  I want to make their life better, I want them to feel important in this big bad world and I will do it at the demise of myself.

Being an empath means I am exhausted a lot because I say yes to things without thinking of what it would do to me, forgetting about my own needs and my own happiness.  Furthermore, the compassion that comes with an empath means I make excuses for other’s bad behavior – was it their childhood that made them this way?  Maybe the paranoia comes because of being hurt in the past? So many excuses that I can come up with for you.  Hate that shit about me.

So yeah this empath life is both a curse and a blessing. It takes works to not allow all energies in but then there is also the part of you that knows that the person trying to give you their energy, needs you.  So how do you choose what to allow?  I have no fucking idea, when you find out – please share. 

I called this piece “Half An Empath” because although I have this trait – I also at times ignore it.  My sponge opened it’s pores and took it but then I am wringing it so that it begins to drain out – it’s survival.  You’ll know when I’m practicing this, it’s when I shut off my phone and sometimes for a full day or two.  That is a type of boundary; my therapist and I worked on ways to get better at being an empath because it’s inevitable these may not be the same boundaries for you but toy with them and see if it helps: 

  • Limit your time with people that end to unload on you without permission 
  • Schedule your alone time; yes even if that means setting a reminder in your calendar
  • Grounding myself whether that’s meditating or writing my thoughts 
  • Stone practice – I haven’t tried this mainly because I haven’t taken the time to go and buy them and what to do with them but the stones are Labradorite, Smoky Quartz, Black Tourmaline & Hematite
  • Be with nature – I help my parents garden a lot – it’s quite therapeutic and I count walking my dog for 15-20 minutes too
  • Be intentional; don’t ask how someone is doing if you really can’t take that on.  They could need to vent and you may not be in that mindset today, so don’t ask – let them lead the conversation
  • Mantra:   “I RELEASE ALL THE ENERGY FROM THE OUTSIDE BACK TO ITS OWNER AND REQUEST ONLY MY ENERGY BACK, PLEASE & THANK YOU”

See how much work it takes; I’m working on it as best as I can which isn’t daily.  

xx- JC

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That One Question

Yes it took me a while to open up, yes I’m still not okay but something happened the other day when I was asked a question. A question that hit me so deep this time and I say this time because this question was nothing to me before, in the past I would answer to anyone that asked. This time it legitimately may have been what I needed to move forward. My past lovers knew my answer to the question – shit even strangers playing a game of good ole’ truth or dare would know my answer to the question.

What is or was your ultimate sexual fantasy?

My answer – consensual forced sex. I never considered it a taboo subject – I fantasized about someone I know and someone I wanted to forcefully take me while I pretended it was out of my control. A fantasy so vivid that I thought of the different scenarios and backdrops.

I now know why this question, a question that never affected me before but this time shook me as it did. I had forced sex. A keyword is missing there though…CONSENSUAL. So now revisiting the question, the answer & what happened to me – I can understand why I CHOOSE to put it in on the back-burner for so long.

I tend to always want to know the reason for things, the why…so I did what I do and I dug deep – the weak side of me said “shit this was my fantasy somewhat, maybe I deserved it”. The intelligent powerful side of me said “girl, shut the fuck up – what happened was not your fantasy, not even close”. Why did I allow the weak side to not let me run, to not change my number, to cut off all contact? Maybe I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time because I knew the person?

Let’s be clear, I am not condoning at all but what I am doing is trying to figure out why I didn’t protect myself better after it happened. Was it because in my subconscious this was my fantasy?

I didn’t WANT this person to do this to me. This person that I fantasized about wasn’t supposed to be mad at me when it happened; it wasn’t supposed to be an out of revenge action. It was supposed to be a fun, sexy, erotic moment and this was far from those three adjectives. So yes, forced consensual sex was my fantasy for many years. Now, I don’t have any fantasies pertaining to sex and that’s okay. And yes, that one question rocked me this time but it also may have been what I needed to stop.

XOXO, JC

Hiding, Changing or Whatever

First, let’s paint the picture…five girls sitting around the dinner table, friends for over 20 years. It had been about five months since we last all got together so of course the mama bear of the group asked the question to all of us – “so what’s new with you”. I purposely moved by position to look at each of them one by one and let them answer while still drinking and hoping one of their stories was so good that it would take over the conversation for the night, and it did.

Now had that not happened and I had to answer the question, I knew what I would say because I practiced it while I drove to the restaurant and also while the other girls were answering. My answer was going to be “nothing much you know, same old same – work, sleep, mom and repeat”; but what I should say is “nothing new at all, I am stuck in the same rut for the 3rd year and it’s not okay and I need help to get out of it”. But I put the coward hat on, yet again. Yup, I called myself a coward – that’s self awareness, isn’t it? Do I get points for that at least? Serious though – I’m a coward because I am not being truthful; I am not telling them I have changed. Instead I am turning on my switch, putting on mask and going back to the old happy, go lucky, nothing can stress me persona – when that is so far from the truth.

Trauma doesn’t just disappear and now I understand that it could change a person; there are parts of me that have expired. I know, maybe that is not a bad thing – maybe I’ll evolve and shit and turn into a even better person, but for now, I don’t like it. I want go back to being the woman that went into a conversation genuinely interested in understanding the other person, the woman that just was happy waking up every morning, living each day to the fullest day by day.

Instead, the new me is waiting until I can go home and take a shower and lay in bed – get sucked into hours of Netflix or reading a book. It takes work and I’m not ready for that – call it cowardly, that’s fine. I called myself that earlier, remember. I am not ready to work on something because you know what, it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that I was changed – it wasn’t my choice.

xx, JC

Tired

I’m tired, tired to the point where my knees get weak and I feel as if they will just fold under me without warning.  My public façade is good, Oscar-worthy even but I’m not “fake”, I’m surviving. 

I know what you’re thinking, am I reading about her being tired.  Yes –  you are.  But this is a deep tired, a tired that isn’t fixed by a gallon of coffee or a weekend of sleep.  A tired that requires the curtains to fall so my performance can be over and this curtain fall does happen.  It happens once I get in my car after a day of work or once I am in my home alone or sometimes it waits until I lay my head on the pillow.  It’s a tired coming from the soul.  My soul is tired.

I am a type of person that wants others to be happy, so because I want others to be happy then I can’t show that I’m not.  I can’t put down my façade and show my sadness, my fear, my truths.  Because if I do, I’ll have to explain why.  Why am I now this way?  What happened to change me?  I’m too tired to explain why, so I just don’t.  Remember this isn’t a regular tired, it is my soul that is tired.

I don’t know how to fix a tired soul.  Now, I’m an intelligent person, I know that I need support.   I know it is going to take me speaking my truth but I also need energy for that and I’m not there yet.  I don’t have that positive, optimistic energy to motivate me and I need that for this type of weight I carry.  My soul is heavy, heavy and tired.

Society has messed us up and that people need to see dysfunction to help.  That is fucked up!  Why do us as humans want to see people not function, not get out of bed, suffer, shit even attempt suicide before we think they really need help.  So call it fake if you must, I call it surviving and until I can speak my truth and ask for support I will continue to survive.

 

XO, JC

2016

Since the summer of 2016 I’ve been hiding, lying, avoiding, hating… you know all those things that you learn as a school age child to not do.  I’m disappointed about it, disappointed at myself for doing this for so long.  But let me explain – please.  Let me explain why I hid, why I lied and why I allowed hate.  And while I explain – remember, not everyone can just replenish themselves when so much has been taken from them.

In the summer of 2016, I was introduced to certain “places” because of a darkness that was first forced upon me.  Yes I said forced because although I didn’t allow what happened to me , I did in these last 19 months allow myself to stay in the darkness.  I think I did this because I didn’t want to relive it but guess what I still relive it, DAILY – me hiding it didn’t stop that.  I cannot escape it, and yes I did try – I tried to distract myself, I pretended it wasn’t there but then it came back daily and now I have accepted that I will always think of it daily so here I am, introducing you to my “places” because they are me.

DEMOTIVATION – I didn’t get lazy, lazy would’ve been me not waking up every day with a smile and moving on with the day.  Instead, I woke up – I put my mom hat on along with my work hat on and kept it moving.  I wanted to be lazy, trust me, I did.  I work for an amazing company that if I had called, I could’ve used my benefits and take short term disability to stay home and wallow.  My daughter’s father would’ve taken her without hesitation, had I asked.  So no I didn’t get lazy; I just got demotivated.  Demotivated to be a mom and a employee like I was before.  I became the mom and employee that just did what I had to do to survive 16 hours before I went back to bed and hit replay.

ANXIETY – Let me begin with apologizing, when people would tell me they had anxiety, I thought it was an excuse.  I would say just slow down, breathe in from your nose and out through your mouth, etc…  Well again I apologize, I get it now.  I get the whole trembling through moments while your heart is racing and your breathing becomes painful.  I understand now – those feelings of worry, fear, helplessness and when it comes I rather die.  Legit, die – that’s how horrible it is.

FEAR – I’ve had fear before 2016, but not like this.  Now my fear is real, it’s not “what if” scenarios in my head. My fear comes from what has actually happened, my identity, my self-esteem, my self-worth has been taken away from me.  I have fear because I have been violated both emotionally and physically, there is fear of never being okay again.  There is fear of that person that gets to close to me in the elevator or the one that compliments me too many times.

So there it is, my places – as ugly as they are.  Don’t worry, I’m not staying here for long although yes it has been 19 months and I’m not much further along than I was 12 months ago but guess what, there is no time frame on healing.  The 19 months has done something wonderful, because I now WANT to give my life a second chance.

People notice I’m not the same Jeannette – they tell me I’ve changed, that my “light” is gone, that my energy no longer exudes positivity.   When I hear these things I want those things again, I want to be those things for other people.   I want to love myself, I want to see the good in people, the one that just wants everyone to be genuinely happy.   I will get there and I have promised to be more honest and transparent, with myself patiently.

Unlearning abuse also means unlearning the abusive behaviors that you inherited as survival tactics

 

XX, JC