Born without filters

From the stories I have heard about my infancy, I was not an easy baby. While other babies might have been a little colicky, I had colic 24 hours a day. I got chicken pox at the age of one month from my older brother, who, if legend has it right, was the perfect baby. I was the kind of baby the wind or loud noises bothered. These days they call them Highly Sensitive Children. It should be of no surprise to find I have grown into a Highly Sensitive Person. Telling a Highly Sensitive Person to stop being so sensitive is like telling water not to be wet. To know more about HSP, there is a test at http://www.hsperson.com/.

As I have gotten older my coping skills have improved but it is still easy to hurt me. Sometimes I describe it as having all my nerves on the surface. I jangle easily. At one point I could not enter Best Buy stores because the loud carpet and mixture of noises would overwhelm me. Thank goodness the carpet has been replaced with grey industrial carpeting. Mann Theaters have carpet that looks like fireworks and popcorn, ghastly. I will pay more at a small toy store than deal with the sensory overload at Toys R Us. And I definitely have to be in the right mood to go to Cub.

That is just the surface stuff. Hurts go deep. I do not have a good memory and sometimes forget but other times remember. I was sitting here thinking about being gone for three weeks at my last job and then coming back to find that my boss and her cronies did not even ask how my trip to move the parents from NY to MN went. When their parents were in the hospital or sick, I always asked. Their insensitivity or downright meanness floored me. On the other hand, I can say things to others that hurt and not realize or remember. I am so sorry.

My sister sent me a plaque that reads "Everyone is entitled to my opinion." I was raised that way. We are shouters and don't care who we shout at, (except my sister) and everyone knows our opinions. There is someone I know who goes about muttering, loud enough to hear, but not loud enough to understand. Part of me wants to say either talk to me or keep quiet. But today I thought I would do the same thing. I started muttering, too. I hated it. The nasty things I wanted to say stayed suspended in the atmosphere, polluting the very air I breathe. As we say here in Minnesota, "Oh ish!"

The realization I had while muttering, is that everyone is not entitled to my opinion. If I am going to spout garbage, it is best to keep it to myself. No one needs their air polluted by my resentments and bad humor. On one level I already knew this. I leave places that make me uncomfortable. Now I have to show that same level of sensitivity to others and leave if I make them uncomfortable. Better yet, use some filters and don't make others uncomfortable to be with me. What a concept! Miss Sensitivity should be more sensitive to others.

Not where I thought I was going with this blog, but a good place to have come to all the same.