Pieces of Me

Anais Nin once said:

“I despise my own hypersensitiveness, which requires so much reassurance. It is certainly abnormal to crave so much to be loved and understood.”

I know exactly how Nin feels.

My hypersensitivity can be an asset and a flaw. It affects me mentally, physically and sexually.

Hypersensitivity doesn’t equate to a person being weak. It just means they are deeply affected by physical and emotional stimuli.

The best way I can explain it, is your body and brain feel completely overwhelmed by sounds, touch, sights and new information. And you have to shut down because if you don’t — you feel like your system is about to short circuit.

For as long as I can remember, I have been ‘checking out’ of life situations.

Is ‘checking out’ part of who I am? Or a coping mechanism born from trauma?

All I know is that ‘checking out’ feels like the perfect hug or floating in warm water. I feel safe and the external world is unable to get at me with their grubby hands.

I check out of friendships, relationships and social media. I sit with myself for however long it takes — until a warmth rushes back into my body.

I can then return to the world of the living again.

Reply to that email.

Respond to that text.

And reactivate social media.

My intuition tells me the DANGER has gone. And its okay to come back out. But my hypersensitivity affects me sexually as well.

In Episode 11 of my podcast, I talk about my journey through spontaneous orgasms. I believe they happen in response to everything I am processing internally.

And that’s why DICK is so addictive. DICK is not only physically penetrative but it can crack open emotional locks too.

I’ve tried to talk to people about my hypersensitivity but I am always dismissed.

The human race is fucked. When you’re as deep as an eyebath how could you ever metabolise any ‘experience’ that exists below surface level? It is impossible.

They are incapable. I will work it out myself.