A strange discovery : when I feel anxious it’s not the feeling that’s the anxiety, it’s just an impression of the anxiety in my mind. To put it another way, feeling the pain of being pricked with a needle doesn’t mean actual needles penetrate the skin, flows through the blood and into the brain.
It’s such an odd discovery and it’s taking me longer than usual to make the differentiation because for all my life I was under the impression that my feelings were the needles. To think that my feelings are neutral and that it’s possible to detach from focusing on the pain is like I’m being told the sky is red and not blue.
You see, I’ve created an entire life around the belief that my sensitivity is why I seem to suffer more than those who aren’t as sensitive. Naturally, I thought if I could be impervious to my feelings and dissociate from them then the pain would stop yes? Through sour experiences I learnt that the pain was signaling to me that I’m not in the right place or space and turning that warning signal off made me vulnerable and susceptible to manipulation and injury by those lacking empathy and conscience. It put me at the mercy of those with no mercy.