WARNING! This post contains large amounts of psedu-psychology. If you're not interested in self-help mumbo jumbo, I would advise you to turn around now and go back and look at the pictures I took of my belly back in November. If you continue, please remember that you've been warned!
I've always known something was a little off with me. Ever since I was a little kid I had a sneaky suspicion that what was going on upstairs in the old noodle might not be occurring in the heads of those around me. I noticed things that I felt other people didn't always notice, and I always felt like I could empathize better than others and that people often came to me with problems because of it. I was able to retain very information better than those around me, and I can still remember very specific details of events in my life from when I was very young. I had a very active imagination that usually leaked into fantastically real dreams, both day and night. I loved being around people, but at the same time I usually had the urge to just be alone with my thoughts. I felt like a walking oxymoron because I was an extroverted introvert. Or was it an introverted extrovert? I wanted so badly for the whole world to see me, but the minute that they did I wanted nothing more than to just be another face in the crowd. I hated crowds at events like state tournaments, and I'd get nervous to the point where I'd have to go sit by myself. I was often overly emotional and sensitive. I've always hated scary movies because I can't handle the suspenseful music and cheap scares. I would cry when people would leave or when I would leave others. I lingered on every word that people said to me, trying to assign context and subtext. I acted very shy and uncomfortable in new situations, yet I was overly affectionate to those I became close to. I connected to music, TV, and movies, and I would often obsess on songs until I wrangled all of the emotional meaning out of them. I'm not able to sleep in a bed with someone else because I'm constantly aware of their presence (my parents probably hated traveling with me since this usually meant I had to have a roll-away or I'd sleep on the floor until I was old enough to know what was on hotel floors). These traits continued into adulthood.
I recently stumbled upon an idea that I've done some reading on, and I think I might finally have an explanation. According to research done by Elaine Aron, I am a Highly-Sensitive Person (HSP). More specifically, I'm an HSM (Highly Sensitive Man). It started with a self-test online and led to an interlibrary loan of some of Dr.. Aron's works. As soon as I started reading, I felt like I had finally found a category to call my own. Some of the more interesting common denominators I found were things like when I attend a conference, I become overwhelmed and would prefer to spend time in my room alone. That's me! I sometimes attend conferences and end up skipping sessions, not because I'm lazy or disinterested, but because I feel like I need to get away to process things I'm hearing. In her book "The Highly Sensitive Person In Love," she talks about how HSP's will often avoid being in an intimate relationship because the fear and knowledge of the possibility of being hurt often outweighs the desire and ability to start up a relationship. Ding, ding, ding! I couldn't have said it better myself. She also talks about how HSM's in particular have a hard time initiating physical contact, even in the form of a kiss, because they are always worried that they are missing a sign and don't want to be seen as too forceful. If you were one of the many lucky girls who had the opportunity to try to date me or one of the lucky people at a lunch table who were blessed with hearing my frustrations and nerves about this very subject, you'll know how true this one is, too. Another indicator is that we have a hard time living with others or in communal living because even the slightest change in room temperature, lighting, or noise level becomes grating, and we often times want to have our own rooms when we go on vacations because we need to be able to completely control the environment. Welcome to my Hell! I have a new neighbor that moved in upstairs, and every time he stands up and I hear a floor board creek, I feel like walking upstairs and punching him in the face. On our recent fishing trip, I had to spend about 20 minutes before we went to the bar just lying in my own dark bedroom to just reset. (By the way, bars are a nightmare for me. Waaaaay too many people, sounds, smells, etc. for this guy. Luckily they serve things that help me overcome.) I also get startled by phone calls and unexpected knocks on my door and will often ignore both until I'm ready to deal with it on my own terms. Weird, I know.
The other big one is that HSM's in particular generally relate to women better and often feel uncomfortable around men, with other men often feeling uncomfortable around them. I've often been pegged by family members and outsiders as being kind of off, and in more than one occasion it was insinuated that I was gay (not that there's anything wrong with that). But the thing is, I love the ladies. I wish I was a more manly man who could do manly man things, but I'm not. I can't change the oil, drive a tractor, or kill animals. I can tell you what cardigan looks best with your tie, tell when you're hurt and lend you a caring ear, and drive you to the airport. Dr. Aron says that often times HSM's are made more HSM-ey because they are raised primarily by women during their formative years, lacking a male role model to properly teach him how to deal and cope with emotions in an acceptable masculine way. These traits are also enhanced when the child feels like he needs to be there emotionally for his mother. This blog is in no way an indictment on anything my parents ever did, but the truth is that for a couple of years I spent the bulk of my time with mom and my two grandmothers, and anyone who knows me knows that I'm a mama's boy and that my mother and I have a pretty deep emotional connection that was enhanced during a stint where it was just the two of us.
The other thing that Dr. Aron mentions in her book is that there are people out there that are very high sensation and thrill seekers (HTS). She is a HSP, her husband is a HTS. She talks about how these two personalities can often clash because the HTS wants as much stimulation in the environment as possible, whereas she wants it in little chunks that she can control. She also talks about how rocky the relationship was because in the beginning, she was completely guarded and protected herself, although inside she desperately wanted to give all of herself to him. Then when she finally made the decision to fully trust him, she almost overwhelmed him with affection. In hindsight, I think this is what happened to Jenna and me. Jenna was definitely an HTS, and she was always looking for new things to keep her interested. Stimulation didn't bother her one bit. She lived over 4th Street in Sioux City, across from a bar that had loud music and drunken party-goers screaming outside all night long. She was also next to train tracks and had neighbors on all sides that seemed to lack the common decency to shut the hell up. She never noticed a single one of them. When I'd stay over, I'd make her turn a fan on and made her buy darkened curtains because I almost had a nervous breakdown. On the internal side, I was super guarded because I was afraid to trust her (I hadn't really, fully trusted someone in a loving way in a long time), but when I finally did I opened a floodgate on her that I'm not sure she was ever all that comfortable with. My main goal was to make her happy, because with her being happy, I was happy. Typing that, I'm fully aware that this was an odd codependency, but that is how I operate in all of my relationships. I hate having people be upset with me (or upset in general), and I need to be loved and liked. To know that I'm not liked is too much for me, and I will do anything in my power to balance that back out. In hindsight, I think Jenna was doing everything she could to try to understand where I was coming from, but I think having a man that was so emotional and sensitive was too alien for her and too unlike who she was. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't walking around crying at every turn. But I was very affectionate and didn't hide feelings. I needed her and needed to be needed by her. She needed independence and freedom, and was secure enough to not need me all the time. In hindsight, I know she started pushing me away a couple of months ago, but I couldn't process that and just held on tighter.
Maybe I'm still trying to assign meaning to something that doesn't need that assignment, but I'm pretty sure I'm an HSP and that's what I do. There's some really interesting stuff on why HSP's are who they are, and I could totally relate. If I was a superhero, I'd be Highly Sensitive Man, and my creation story would be similar to 20% of other Americans by her estimate. Oh, and I could fly.
I share with you all of this because I think it will provide some insight into the way I've handled things in the past (probably with you at some point) and the way I'll deal with things in the future. This isn't a defect, but rather a trait that I feel like I've known about for years but never had the verbiage to explain it to others. In fact, I think it is a great strength when used appropriately. I live a rich, complex life internally, and that helps in my day to day operations externally. It helps me be creative, and it helps me be a great story teller. Those who know me know that I love to tell grandiose stories of my exploits, and while all of them are rooted in truth, there is almost always embellishment. I've long said that I feel like my life is a movie with a constant narration in my head, and it is that narration that I like to share with you because it is almost always a little bit entertaining. I also think it helps me be a great friend and co-worker.
It also explains why I'm quick to say that I'm okay in one breath and then retreat to my apartment by myself for a couple of days and disconnect from the entire world as I try to cope with everything going on. My life is an open book, yet I somehow manage to be incredibly private. I just confided in a friend that this is the first blog post that I seriously considered deleting after I had written it because it might have officially crossed my threshold of a comfort level for vulnerability, and I have already imagined the reaction it will create in different people based on their connection to me. However, I'm going to roll with it because this blog is about insight and, right or wrong, I have found insight in the HSP theory.
I'll leave you with this, a song lyric from my favorite band and one of Jenna and I's favorite songs (January Wedding by the Avett Brothers):
I don't feel weak but I do need sometimes for her to protect me
And reconnect me to the beauty that I'm missin'
So, I've got a favor to ask of all of you. Until I find that next someone special, help me stay connected. After living alone for the better part of the past decade, it becomes entirely too convenient for me to disconnect and live in my own little world filled with bad sitcoms from the 80's and Spyder Solitaire. I don't need a babysitter or an events coordinator, but know that no matter how much it seems like I'm dealing with all of this on my own and pushing people away, I deeply want and appreciate all of the support, understanding and love you've all given me.
Well, this post officially sucks and is a major downer, so I promise something more blue skies tomorrow. In the meantime, if you'd like to read more about the HSP, here's a link:
http://www.hsperson.com/index.html
If you took the self-assessment and found that we have similar characteristics, let me know! I've always been interested in shared experiences and commonalities, so maybe we can grab a coffee and be sensitive together.
Sensitively yours,
Jeff
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