Everything is Amplified
So much of life is not volitional, but we want what we want and insist on our preferences, place our conditions and judgements on everything and everyone. Drop the rope and tug-o-war deflates, like the balloon the ophthalmologist burst when she asked about my vision (“Cover your left eye,” she says, and I can only see the E, one day after right eye cataract surgery. I tell her I can read signs from a distance, all excited about the drive over (Doug drove, not quite ready for that, yet, fairly close), my miracle dashed (cornea swollen, more eyedrops, 14 total).
The tape they use to affix the eye shield pulled off so much skin (not really but it stung) it was worse than the digging in my eyeball I couldn’t feel! I’m very sensitive. Highly so. Google it. It’s a thing.
Everyone calls this an easy surgery but it’s still an assault on the system (a strong word, water it down, your choice. Interference?) I’ve lived with this too-muchness since the day I was born. Everything is amplified. You learn to make accommodations but there’s a price to be paid in shame for this convexicating.
If you say how you really feel, you get a buck up lecture. “It’s not that bad, don’t be a baby, get over it, you’re so melodramatic.” Granted, my grown self realizes it could always be worse, but this lack of understanding, this callous lack of empathy has wounded me deeply (water that down as well. It hurt my feelings. Made me feel bad. Sad. Guilty for being trouble. Troubled. Guilty for being “difficult.” A pain in the neck. I’m sorry. I learned to smile and look pretty. Be nice. Don’t bother anyone. I hid discomfort like my rabbits. Don’t let on (prey animals can’t show weakness. Expose your soft underbelly at your own expense).
Every now and then, I don’t know how to end a poem. Mostly the words reach a satisfying conclusion with little help from me. Like channeling. I just record them, like a scribe. This morning I spoke with two women friends, back to back, in difficult situations. I was “there” for them. It put my own situation in perspective (I don’t really want to do the other cataract next month. It’s just too soon).
Here’s the thing, highly sensitive or not. Everyone has issues. Challenges. Difficult decisions. I was judged harshly for being too “emotional”. As if having feelings is a negative condition one should apologize for. As if overwhelm can be dialed back, like high blood pressure, with just a thought or a pill or a glass of wine (perhaps it can). Bottom line, there’s no place for shame. We feel what and how we feel. It seems so much of life is not volitional.
LBM 7/22/2023
