you know, i know that alcoholics have this terrible tendency to think that we’re ‘terminally unique.’ i get it. i do. and i know that i also have a ‘disease of perception.’ check. i also know i’m going to sound like a raving lunatic for what i’m going to tell you right now. fine.

a brief rundown.

i’ve always had a flair for the psychic.
i’ve always been in touch with things premonitory/supernatural.
i’ve always believed in reincarnation and/or an afterlife.
i’ve always known there are many things that we cannot see that affect our lives and there are many things that happen and are happening and that will continue to happen for which we cannot account.
i’ve always concerned myself with things like prayer or ESP or divination or a variety of other things that a lot of other people think are wild, crazy, heretical, crap or whatever.
i’ve always had a huge “sixth sense.”
i’ve always been hyper-aware.
i’ve always had an overactive imagination and a very rich dream life.

and on and on and on. i know this will go on to sound bombastic, egotistical, delusional, and beyond ridiculous, but i have often identified with the lives of saints, prophets and martyrs to some extent. i have identified with their ideas, their struggles, their thoughts and their hardships. i have identified with their grandiose personalities and their particular character defects. i have wondered about the things that they have had to deal with and have had to carry as their own particular burdens.

all that said, i’m beginning to become resigned to the fact that all gifts are not easily held. all gifts are not easily retained and used. in fact, sometimes (more often than not, in some cases), they are better off left on the shelf than brought out in an improper moment. i have this uncanny knack for seeing the soft spots in people. i have an innate ability to see where people are hurting or where they might be vulnerable. i have a way of lasering in on their wounds and scars and where they are most afraid someone might see them as weak or small. i never see in these places as a way to exploit or to harm. i nearly always see them because i wish i could hold intention for them to be healed, to know they are loved. for them to know that they are completely perfect as they are and that they just don’t have to work so hard.

but what inevitably ends up happening is that fear rears its ugly head and these people sense that a very, very personal space is being invaded … a space they might not have even recognized existed themselves. and because they aren’t even quite sure what it’s all about (other than to know that they aren’t ready for all of this emotion and fear and heartbreak), all they can pinpoint is that since i came around, they are feeling. and it’s nothing good. and so i get to be the point of reference for all the anger and the pushing away and the leave me alone and the i don’t want to talk about this and the fuck offness that comes with all of it.

i need to be resigned that this is just a lonely place. being able to see where people are hurt or could use some care, and not being able to do a thing about it, because letting them know i can see just seems to bring about pain and misery for everyone. i just need to sit back and let god work things out. i just don’t understand why i have to see and feel this all if i’m not supposed to do anything. i don’t know why god has me see all of this. it’s terribly heartbreaking and terribly lonely.

it’s bad enough i feel just like they do to start with. and then to have to experience it again through them seems like more than i can bear sometimes. what makes it even more of a stupid exercise in futility is that i never start off thinking, “i’m going to try and heal/fix so and so.” i don’t. it’s always something that hits me out of the blue. ‘OH. this is something about this person. that means something to them. this is something about their deal/character/past/present/soul/dreams/way of thinking/whatever.’ insight/insight/knowledge. i’m not trying to fix anyone. i just get this information special delivery. so, i don’t know what this whole life thing is about or what i’m supposed to be doing here. i really don’t.


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