First off, I have to say that I have no proof that the HSP
phenomenon is sufficiently concrete as to be medically recognisable. What I can
say is that there is a condition, or more properly a personality variant, which
is characterised by an exaggerated perceptual faculty and held in common by a
relatively small number of people, including me. (I only found that out a year
or so ago when somebody wrote to me and said ‘I’ve been reading your blog and I
think you’re an HSP type. You match the symptoms.’) I can also say that a
Canadian psychologist recognised this variant over twenty years ago and has
been studying it ever since. She claims to have shown that it’s caused by our
brains being wired slightly differently than those of ‘normal’ people, and who
am I to disagree? The symptoms are certainly real enough, and it’s been my
experience that they both differ sufficiently from the norm and accord
sufficiently with the small percentage of like-minded others that I think it
reasonable to proceed on the basis that it does exist. So let me do just that,
using my own experience as my only guide.
According to that experience, there are two connected
strands to HSP. The first is high awareness, the second high sensitivity. They
both cause difficulty in our relations with life, but it’s the first of them
that gets us most misunderstood. People know what sensitive means. Most people
are highly sensitive to one thing or another that pushes their fear button,
their anxiety button, their sadness button, or whatever, so it isn’t so
difficult to explain that we’re highly sensitive to everything.
The difficulty comes with high awareness. People don’t think
about awareness; it’s something that’s just there in the mind. It’s something
we all take for granted, and I’ve no doubt that we all assume it’s more or less
universal in its operation. I’m sure it more or less is for most people, but
not for the HSP.
Being an HSP is like going through life seeing everything
through a magnifying glass. Difficult issues loom more menacingly, bad
atmospheres between people are more acrid, more detail is seen in the interplay
of relationships, loud noises are effectively louder and bad smells effectively
smellier, the energy of violence is more overwhelming, a small pool of blood
becomes a lake on which floats the enervating perception of suffering, the play
of light on a landscape is more complex, more connections are seen in the
inflated spaces between the main message, objects which invade our space
squeeze us to a sense of near-suffocation. And so on and so forth…
I expect the details vary with the individual, but what we
have in common is the fact that everything looks bigger; and because it’s
perception we’re talking about, if it looks
bigger, it is bigger. Normal people
are conditioned to their own level of awareness, and so they don’t understand
ours. ‘Why is this bothering you so much?’ they ask. ‘It’s only a
such-and-such.’ Yes, but it’s a much bigger such-and-such to us than it is to
them. And it works both ways. We’re conditioned to our level of awareness, too,
so we don’t understand why they don’t
understand. Not until, that is, we bring HSP into the picture. I could tell the
story of how, during my spell in the navy, I was brought to a state of near physical
collapse by the repeated sound of gunfire from the big 4.5” guns. I didn’t
collapse; it’s something you mustn’t do, because then you would lose face and
have the shame to contend with on top of the collywobbles already turning your
insides to a nauseating form of jelly. That’s what being an HSP is often about:
hiding your true reactions so as to avoid being thought either a wimp or a
lunatic. It helps a little to know that it’s because your brain is wired
differently, and I suspect it probably plays a large part in PTSD.
It’s easy to become overloaded with all this awareness, and
it’s easy to get swamped by the combined effect of awareness and sensitivity.
The steadier ones might relieve the pressure by venting it through some creative
pursuit, while those not so gifted might become alcoholics, or maybe go off the
rails with an eating disorder or the proclivity for self harm. Most of us, I suspect,
tend to live more in our own world than normal people do. And think of this:
when society prides itself on punishing two offenders with the same prison
sentence for the same crime, they call it equality of treatment. That isn’t
surprising, but little do they realise that the punishments are far from equal
if one of them is an HSP.
Maybe I should leave it there before the post becomes
unforgivably long. And the news isn’t all bad anyway. High awareness brings
benefits as well as drawbacks. I once heard a man with serious bipolar say that
he’d always refused medication. He said that the highs were so good that he was
prepared to pay for them with the lows. Well, maybe it’s a bit like that. I’ve survived so far without becoming an alcoholic or cutting slice marks into
my arms, and I was brought to the verge of ending it all only once. Not bad,
eh?
Tomorrow I might make the post about gay marriage, or write
a silly ditty, or rant about idiot politicians (Ed Milliband’s rank opportunism
raised my hackles this week.) Or maybe something will push me into the pit
again. That’s how it is.
2 comments:
Well there are some people who probably think I'm a wimp *and* a lunatic. But at least now the waiters at our local diner turn off the ceiling fan when they see me walking in the door (flickering light) and my co-workers turn off the radio when I arrive at the office (can't concentrate with music playing in the background). I just ordered the book The Highly Sensitive Person's Survival Guide from the library. Do you think they'll turn off the horrible fluorescent lights when I go in to pick it up? :)
n.
If they have the slightest shred of common decency, I should think they'll deliver it to your door on a sunny day.
There's a supermarket chain in Britain which I won't use because they play horrible piped music. I think you're supposed to ignore it if it's not to your taste, but we HSPs aren't very good at ignoring things, are we?
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