Sometimes I Just Want To Read

There are days when all I want to do is lay in bed and read a good book…the phone off, a pot of tea, maybe even some scones and homemade strawberry jam.  Today is one of those days…Claire is at the lake with a friend, it is raining outside, and the temperature has dropped to, comfortable, from stinking hot.  It has been a rough week, not for me, but for my friends.  I know that sounds odd…let me explained…yes, briefly.

I’m an overly sensitive person…I wear my heart on my sleeve…many, mostly family, would say I am overly sensitive, and they are probably right.  As a child my parents had to be careful what I watched on t.v. because I would empathise with the characters so much, that I would cry at every touching commercial, or thoughtful show.  I apparently would cry hysterically at Lassie…the dog was fine every week, but I still could not hold back the tears.  It has not changed much…during the movie, The Notebook, I was so upset that I descended to the ugly cry…where it’s hard to catch your breath, and you leak from every orifice of your face. 

That being said, when my friends are having hard times, I empathise with them.  I worry about how they are doing, wish I could fix things somehow, and am frustrated with myself that I can not.  Illness and death, suffering and misfortune are, of course, a normal part of life.  When it happens to family and friends, especially children, then does it not take a tighter grip on the heart? Most religions would say, yes, that is exactly what is supposed to happen, through suffering and compassion you become a better person.  It stinks though, doesn’t it?

God Bless, Julia


10 thoughts on “Sometimes I Just Want To Read

  1. I know what you mean. My husband and I worked together at the same company a few years ago. I remember that he went around to my friends and told them not to forward emails to me about the tsunami when it happened. He still won’t tell me about news or tragic events (I don’t like to read news – it is never all about fun stuff!) because he knows it makes me sad for others. But being empathetic is a gift if you can remember to recognize but not own anither’s feelings. I am still working on this, too. Great post honey. :). Jo

  2. Julia, both my daughter and I suffer the same degree of empathy you describe. All I can find to say is that I hope you find some comfort. Hugs.

  3. When I was five the theme from Born Free could make me burst into tears; I’ve been the emotional equivalent of a blubbering jelly fish ever since! – but hopefully, like me, your opposing emotion of hilarity/laughter/general silliness/giddy/hysterical, is equally highly tuned 🙂 it makes the tough so much more bearable.

  4. Although it does stink when our family and friends are struggling (and I am right there with you) I find it wonderfully uplifting that you can feel to those depths. When I was younger I often felt misunderstood because I felt that I looked at things differently than those around me, felt more intensely. I am now grateful for that! You have a beautiful spirit Julia.

  5. I like this post.
    I cannot watch child abuse or animal abuse stories when they have them on the news. My husband knows this…if one comes on he immediately changes the channel.
    You are not alone…there’s a book called the Highly Sensitive Person by Elaine Aron…you will probably recognize yourself…

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