I felt I needed to be tough. I, in fact, was not. I am a highly sensitive person, and have always reacted to stressors with physical ailment. In my teens, I developed the mental illnesses of an eating disorder, depression, anxiety and psychosis. I did not want to admit defeat. When did life become a battle for me? I remember in sixth grade I was transferred to a catholic school, and began to play on an elite soccer team. Even though I managed to make friends in both places, I also experienced some bullying from other girls. In seventh grade I transferred to a private prep middle school, and there I had trouble with popularity, and learned some hard lessons. In eighth grade I smartened up and had a very good year, but in ninth grade transferred again to a preparatory Jesuit high school and had some issues once again with girls, and soon later developed an eating disorder in the hopes to be liked, to be loved, and to fit in.

I had a fairly happy childhood, though I was sensitive to stress, and we were a very active and busy family. The lesson I take away from my past and my childhood is that I was in fact very sensitive. Being a bit of a tomboy, I always desired to be tough, and there were some times when I was able to prove to the world that I could be so. I excelled in sports, and made friends with the boys, though in fifth grade there was some bullying there as well. I do not wish to say that I was greatly bullied as a child, because I was attractive, intelligent, and witty. I did not experience real bullying the way some children do. It may have even been a quite normal amount of conflict and bullying. Being a kid and a teenager is tough.

As I grew into my twenties and young adulthood, and developed the disability of mental illness, I experienced drinking more extensively. I still had struggles with fitting in, but was also able to make friends along the way. I had my partner, and with Steve, everything changed. We were now a couple, and I always had him at my side. But I still strove to be somebody. I painted and went to school. I worked jobs. I wrote a memoir. I planted a garden and landscaped my yard. I don’t know if I did all this to prove something, but as I aged, and as I started therapy and eventually quit drinking, I found that as a disabled person that I was better off focusing on recovery rather than a job, or even a career in art or writing. I have humbled myself now before my disability and my sensitivities, and am very much at home in my own skin. I did not always feel this way, but now I am very happy, and I believe getting stronger from the inside out, because I am giving myself the space that I have always needed to recover.

Recover from what exactly? I suppose from just being alive, and being sensitive in a very difficult and complicated world. I think of my niece often, who is eight years old now, and she has always had some mood issues. I want to protect her from so much, but as we all will learn, we must have faith that our children will find their way as they grow up. Now that I am forty four, I am finally accepting my sensitivity and weakness. Animals help me greatly, as do recovery meetings and spiritual circles. I have let go of resentment towards people that I believe do not accept me, both from my past and present. As I have developed a spiritual aspect to my person, I have less need for approval from others, and as I work my program, I work to forgive and let go of any and all who have harmed me in any way. This feels amazing. I am ready to focus on my life in the here and now. So much is fleeting, and time can evolve at a quickened pace. I must savor time with my parents and partner. I need to, and do, slow down to realize what is important in my life, because I will not be around forever.

I have written extensively on having a gift rather than mental illness. It can be so. There are aspect to addicts and alcoholics, as well as mentally ill people, that are very special. Somehow in this corrupt world, our gifts and potential talents turn into addiction and illness. We must find a way to preserve ourselves and to recover. There are ways out there for us. There are spiritual circles, either religious or not, where we can communicate our selves, pray, meditate, and become accepted. There are programs and support groups out there for us if we are willing to look. I think the most important thing is to accept that I may be unique, though I am not terminally unique. There is always someone out there that may relate to my story if I am willing to look and listen. I, am not alone. In these spiritual and therapeutic communities, I may find that once I have nurtured my weaknesses, sensitivities, and gifts, that I can become new and start over. Life is very hard and the world is very cruel. I hope you are able to find love and acceptance for yourself this holiday season, as you honor your sensitivities, and begin to soften to who you were always meant to be.