For those that are sensitive

For those of us that are highly sensitive, emotional and overly expressive, we can’t help it, it’s in our make up. Asking us to change our sensitivity is like asking a left-handed person to use their right hand for writing, asking someone with blue eyes to change their eyes color to brown or demanding that a dog speak English.

 

We are who we are and we can’t change, even if we want to. So give us a break, stop trying to make us into something we’re not. We are going to open with our feelings, we can’t help it, really. We are overcome with empathy and concern for others and why is that such a bad thing? Why are so they so threatened by it? Why does it make YOU so uncomfortable?

 

I refuse to be shamed for my sensitivity and I want all the other sensitive beings to know that they’re not alone, there is nothing wrong with them and they should embrace their sensitivity, not be ashamed by a society that doesn’t understand our uniqueness. So walk tall and continue to love, express yourself and speak your heart and truth, whether the rest of the world gets it or not. Peace

Advertisements

Compassion

Instead of reacting with anger, instead, come back with compassion and understanding. Sometimes a knee jerk emotional reaction kicks in when our buttons are pushed, and sometimes our emotions cloud our judgment and we say things that hurt, they cut like a knife, and when the smoke has cleared, we hang out heads in shame about the daggerish words we have used to cut others down, regret is a heavy consequence of this battle of words.

So instead of throwing salt on the wound, I choose love and compassion even though others may be blinded by rage and hurl treacherous words, They say these things because inside they are hurt, they are hurt because I’m finding ways to heal and they are still on the ground in agony. I choose not to hurt them any further. Because bitterness only serves as poison; eating away at my insides, it’s killing me and I just want the poison out of me. I want to love them; although they may hurt me.

We hurt others because we are hurt ourselves, I’m not better, I’m guilty of it, not a day goes by where in someway I haven’t hurt someone, either through my actions or my sharp tongue ( which is my own worst enemy) I pray for redemption and forgiveness. I am not perfect, father but I take comfort in the fact that no matter how far I stray from your path, you’ll lead me back and can give me the strength to have compassion when it seems so damn hard on some days.

 

Image may contain: David Aguilera, smiling, tree, sky and outdoor

God isn’t the problem, the church is

I think Christianity and God/Jesus gets a bad rap, a lot of people love to hate Christians, they paint them as overly pious, moralizing, judgmental of anyone who doesn’t fit their “version” of Christianity, they are intolerant of anyone who is different from them, they are hypocrites; preaching one thing and doing another; spouting love and compassion one minute and the next ignoring the new church member beside them looking for a friend in Christ, some Christians. I think these are the things that non-church goers feel and their observations aren’t far from the truth. I feel that way and I consider myself a Christian. Some of the most judgmental people I have met have claimed to Christians, it disheartening and very hurtful.

But here’s where I disagree with the kinds of people who make these statements; they equate God and Jesus with the actions of the church. God is love and accepting of all, God isn’t going to abandon or ignore you like some in the church. But because of the actions of those in the church, it turns many away from God. How can Jesus be love and compassion if these are his followers, that’s difficult for me and I struggle with it.

I have to separate God/Jesus from Church/Religion. You can have God in your life, be in prayer, read the bible, practice the principles of Christianity and never set foot in a church. They say community is vital, worship is necessary but what if you don’t feel accepted?. How can I reach God here when I all I feel is hurt and bitterness? I can forgive but it doesn’t negate the fact that I feel uncomfortable in church settings because I know I’m being judged. I attend church begrudgingly and it sucks up my energy. Instead of making me feel closer to God, I feel further away, as far as I’m concerned he’s somewhere outside in the parking lot.

I don’t think I’ve ever truly, felt welcome at church, well maybe as a kid but not as an adult. I feel coldness and indifference, I feel no one really takes the time to know because they’ve developed their “holy cliques”. It’s like George Carlin used to say “They’re in the club and you ain’t in it”. That’s how I feel, out of place, misunderstood, ignored and people don’t want to know you because they’ve already pegged you as someone they don’t want to talk to, so you stand in the corner as people pass you by like you don’t even exist. Sigh, I wonder how many people have left church or never found God because they felt so unwelcome among these so called accepting Christians. And it’s all because of how we treat each other.

I personally find God in nature by myself, through the conversations I have with others, through miraculous things that defy explanation, through writing/art/music, through prayer, reading the bible and the love of my family but never in the church. But don’t think I’m not a Christian or don’t have God is my life. I love God but I struggle with his children, they’re the problem.

 

No photo description available.

 

 

My writing is published

I wanted to tell all of my followers that I submitted one of my poems to a writing website, it has been approved and they are going to publish it. I am not getting paid but this will give my writing more exposure, I am so excited right now because I have never published writing outside of my blog and social media. And I was really afraid of my piece being rejected but clearly it’s worth publishing to them.

 

I am so grateful for all of the support I have gotten from my blog and my social media platforms, I never in a million expected this. I wrote and continue to write for therapeutic reasons and I really didn’t think I would get such a positive response from sharing my writing.

 

I felt so alone for so many years and I kept my feelings inside; not expressing them for fear of judgement. I had so much hurt and pain, that I was just a broken person. But once I started writing, it became a flood of emotions and I wrote and wrote and wrote, I just needed to get it all out. And afterwards I was able to finally heal. And my purpose was to help myself but I had no idea that it was helping others as well, which warmed my heart, that my writing could encourage someone else to open with their feelings, that was never my original intent but words have power, don’t they?.

 

For everyone who has supported my writing and shown me love and understanding, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means the world to me and you have given me the confidence to share my writing and grow as a writer. Thank you for coming along with me on my writing journey and I will continue to write, it’s an essential vitamin at this point.

I saw you

It’s funny, the things you remember. A long time ago, I was at the movies with my friend, we’d go every Friday night. We were hanging after the movie, waiting for his dad to pick us up. I think I was about 17.

 

All of a sudden, I saw you standing there with your friends, I was intimidated because I didn’t know them and maybe knowing me would embarrass you, we didn’t run in the same circles. I called your name and you kind of laughed hard, like you weren’t sure of who I was. I remember you said something like “Oh hey man, it’s you” or something.

 

I realize you were totally gone and it was weird to me because I always saw you when you were straight and I didn’t know how to respond and I realized you weren’t going to remember me talking to you so I quickly went back to my friend.

 

Not sure why this memory came up. It was 20 years ago and irrelevant but as I write, I find this memories popping back up and I must make sense of them. The curse of being a writer, I guess. Why do memories and the past matter so much to me? And why can’t I look back without feeling the pains of sadness and a lump in my throat. And why do I remember things that other people have long forgotten?  It’s a mystery to me, I’ll never understand.

 

No photo description available.

The masks we wear

Whether we realize it or not, we all wear masks, to protect us from the elements, to survive in harsh social environments. We mask our true emotions, our sadness, our hurts, the crippling rejections we face from time to time when we make the mistake of trying to connect with others.

 

Rejection stings like a thousand bees but we never show it, we carry on with fake plastic smiles, so others won’t feel uncomfortable with the pain we carry with us, a heavy knapsack of boulders; weighing us down but we can’t show weakness, so while we lay on the ground in sheer agony, we laugh it off to avoid the judgment of onlookers. No need for help, I’ll help myself. No need for medical attention, just leave me on the ground for a few more days and I’ll somehow manage to crawl back home.

 

Me, I have a mask and I wear it on occasion but most of the time I leave it at home, in a drawer somewhere. I forget my mask and all I can be is myself, I don’t have the luxury of hiding my pain for the benefit of others, what you see is what you get.

 

If life has given me joy, I might crack open a smile, giddy at the prospect of happiness, even if it’s short lived.

 

If negativity invades my space as it oftentimes does, a frown or an eye roll is sure to come. I don’t have a poker face, I can’t hide my emotions as easily as you, although I would like to at times, to be just like you.

 

I feel bitter because I want the happiness you so easily fake, if I had those skills maybe you’d like me more and want to be around me instead of avoiding the black cloud of emptiness that is my existence

 

I don’t know if this is me talking or the illness talking. I speak out of hurt and need to process all of this because the truth is fleeting, when your own mind decides to feed you lies and you believe every line, every damn time.

 

Image may contain: David Aguilera, selfie, closeup and indoor

Being open about suicide

I was just watching a video where Anderson Cooper is interviewing Howard Stern last night and I’ve always liked Anderson Cooper, he has a calm demeanor and he just seems like a really nice guy, really intelligent and caring and passionate about journalism.

 

But it just hit me, there’s another reason that I like him so much is that I found that his brother committed suicide just like mine. And what I like is that is that he is open about it; just like I am. I admire the fact that he moves forward with his life and usies that tragedy as a way of educating people about mental health.

 

In this interview on CNN with Howard Stern, they both recount when Anderson was Howard Stern’s show and Anderson was talking about the suicide of his brother and Howard Stern mentions how he used that the story to learn about the issue of suicide..

 

That’s what it is about; using our stories to educate the public about an issue that has so much stigma. And if a public figure like Anderson Cooper can be so open about the suicide of his brother, so can I and without shame. I just thought I’d share this with you. Thanks for listening and for caring ❤