It is so typical, you wouldn't believe. And it is also very true!
It happens that I cannot afford be laying in my orchid position, but have to jump up to the alarm clock. But nonetheless, there are days when I can be lying with my arms outstretched to the ends of my bed, the blanket is cast aside, absorbing the light and air and moisture... well, you can define it as "freedom". And no, it is not an invitation to have sex with me. It is a moment I enjoy upon waking up. It is all. And at that moment I don't want to have anyone in my proximity. Regardless how much I like them.
Waking alone is a luxury. In my case it's a luxury I earned.
High sensitivity applies across a few different categories. There are several traits or characteristics common to HSPs, according to the researchers who identified this personality trait:
" - Avoiding violent movies or TV shows because they feel too intense and leave you feeling unsettled
- Being deeply moved by beauty, either expressed in art, nature, or the human spirit, or sometimes even a good commercial
- Being overwhelmed by sensory stimuli like noisy crowds, bright lights, or uncomfortable clothing
-Feeling a need for downtime (not just a preference), especially when you have hectic days; needing to retreat to a dark, quiet room
- Having a rich and complex inner life, complete with deep thoughts and strong feelings that go with them "
I do understand that a non-HSP could perceive those traits as weird. Does a non-HSP understand that her or his traits are weird for a HSP?
We, HSP, are in a minority. But how can you, non-HSP, exist without "having a complex inner life, deep thoughts and strong feelings"? Are you vegetables? Is snoring all you can offer?
At the age of 40 I've learned that I belong to HSP group (highly sensitive person). And after I've made some reading on the subject, I understood that I am not a freak. We are certainly not in majority, but not an anomaly either.
Snoring: yes. But there are issues beyond snoring. And it is totally fine with me to wake up alone for the rest of my life :)
Upon waking up, I like to be lying for a while with my arms extended to the limits of my bed, the blanket cast away, absorbing de la nurriture - air, light, moisture, sense of freedom - from the environment around me, as an orchid. When I's married, my - now ex- - husband, read it as an invitation for sex.
An HSP would understand why he is an ex. And it is not possible to explain the concept for a non-HSP.
This thread is a roll-call for us :)
Somehow I sense that there could be a lot of us here.
Oh! My condolences and I wish you to find some one to wake up with within soon and that it will feel good for both of you and that the feeling will last for the rest of your lives!
Sure. Though, in my opinionated opinion, a person should understand her or his advice value in a certain situation for a certain person. It is not about allowance to post. It is about the expected reaction.
You are not supposed to know, but for me a person's attitude to the current regimen in Russia is important. I don't expect everybody to know and care. But I do watch those, who utter their support. From my point of view:
Ozzy is putler's supporter. Hence, any of his advises to me are anything else but malign. End of story.
It's the cake that I wan't have and wan't eat. It is malign.
Well... thank you for the practical advice. I am very bad at formulating my feelings: could be a social skills issue, that I lack.
I never had any problem to send an annoying suitor in the direction of the Russian military ship. But I always had problems with ending the communication with people, whom I didn't want to hurt. And the less you want to hurt them, the worse it turns out :(
My absolute record was with my boss, whom I totally admire, when I wanted to express my condolences for her husband's death - whom I knew as a very adorable person - and I was so inept that she had to pronounce all the appropriate words for me. I wished I died on the spot. (But she is known to protect her group from every possible angle, in my case - even from ourselves.) (I wished I to be her in some of my next iterations.)
I took a farewell with all intrinsic to me clumsiness in hope that my counterpart wouldn't feel too hurt.
And if you think carefully, it becomes clear that I am not in prison, but on a space journey.
Judge for yourself. I have a simple, spartan-looking cabin - an iron bed, a table and a bedside table.
There is no time for luxury on a spaceship. The door to the cabin can only be opened from the command center. People in uniform come to me, they say only a few stereotyped phrases, the light of a video camera is on their chest - these are androids.
I don't cook food - an automatic cart delivers it directly to my cabin. My plates and spoons are made of shiny metal.
Just like in a movie about space, the ship’s command center communicates with me. That is, literally a voice from the wall through the intercom says: three-zero-two, get ready for sanitization. And I answer: yeah, okay, in 10 minutes. I'll just finish my tea.
Hello, this is Navalny I'm fine Warm and comfortable in a single cabin I'll be there soon, people.
So, of course, at this moment I realize that I am on a space journey, flying towards a brave new world. Could I, a fan of books and films about space, refuse such a flight, even if it lasted three years? Obviously not. Yes, space travel is dangerous.
You can arrive and there is nothing there. The flight may be much longer due to a navigation error. A random asteroid can destroy the ship and you will die.
But help often comes. Friendly signal. Hyperspace tunnel hop - and you are already there. Cuddling with family and friends in a brave new world.
There is just one big difference with films about space. I don't have any weapons at all. What if the ship is attacked by xenomorphs? I doubt that you can fight them off with a kettle. Perhaps I'll sharpen the spoon on the wall.
Hello, this is Navalny I'm fine Warm and comfortable in a single cabin I'll be there soon, people.
I am asking for a sentence. You decided that it is not leading anywhere and want to tell it your counterpart. I am asking for precise - precise - wording.
I consider my counterpart to be human and have feelings. And no, I don't assume that they have the same feelings about the same things as moi. Therefore I wonder.
Have you ever been in situation when after a while of corresponding you’ve concluded that your counterpart is not whom you’d consider as someone you’d like to go to a date with?
It’s not their fault: they were polite and sincere on every matter, it is not a question of you suspecting a foul play or anything like that. Just one or another tiny sign hinting that it’s not going to work. Just the person as is, is not your pot of tea.
Have you ever been in that situation? How to end the communication without hurting them? Disappear from the radars without a word? Or tell them you are not worth them? Or what?
Comme le fruit tombe sans avoir pu mûrir La faute à l'homme, la faute au vent Comme l'homme qui sait en se voyant mourir Qu'il n'aura plus jamais le temps Un jour de plus il aurait pu chanter Faute au destin, faute à la chance Faute à ses cordes qui s'étaient cassées Son chant s'appellera silence. Il peut toujours le commencer Nul ne viendra jamais danser Nul ne le reprendra en cœur Il n'aura jamais rien fini A part cette blessure au cœur Et cette vie.
Pourquoi J'voudrais savoir pourquoi, pourquoi Elle vient trop tôt la fin du bal C'est les oiseaux, jamais les balles Qu'on arrête en plein vol. Comme ces disputes commencées le soir Faute à la nuit, faute à l'alcool Et dont il ne restera rien plus tard Que quelques mégots sur le sol Il aurait tant voulu frapper pourtant Faute au couteau, faute à la peur Il n'aura fait aucun combat au sang Juste le temps d'un peu de sueur
Lui qui aurait voulu tout savoir Il n'aura même pas pu tout voir Lui qui avait l'amour au corps, au corps Pour la seule qu'il aurait gardée Il a rendu sa barque au port Sans l'embrasser, sans la toucher Juste y penser jusqu'à la mort
Refrain Il écrivait comme on se sort d'un piège Faute au soleil, faute aux tourments Mais comme il prenait pour papier la neige Ses idées fondaient au printemps Et comme la neige recouvrait sa page Faute aux frimas, faute à l'hiver Au lieu d'écrire il essayait, courage D'attraper les flocons en l'air
Mais aujourd'hui il est trop tard Il n'aura pas pris le départ Et son souvenir ne sera Que la chanson d'avant la lutte De l'évadé qui n'aura pas Atteint son but.
Pourquoi J'voudrais savoir pourquoi, pourquoi Elle vient trop tôt la fin du bal C'est les oiseaux, jamais les balles Qu'on arrête en plein vol.
Fun fact: when you say "huilo", a foreigner, who has no Russian and doesn't follow Russian politics, they know at once what "huilo" is. They understand the very content of the word.
They wished me to wake up alone for the rest of my life
Do return to your sewage.