Good Thing: The Highly Sensitive Person

There are a handful of books which I can unequivocally say have forever altered the way I see the world. The China Study is one. Amazing Grace, which prompted my entry into social work, is another. And then there is The Highly Sensitive Person, which my sister referred me to last winter. I intended to post about the book after reading it, but forgot until I recently received an e-mail from a friend who just started reading it herself.

I used to joke that I must be autistic or something because of my sensitivity to things like noise, crowds, and heat. I often get easily overwhelmed. Without sufficient quiet time, I start to unravel. If I see dead animal on the side of the road (even a possum), or a homeless person, or a depressing story on the news, I can feel profoundly sad for hours. I find that I am often more deeply moved by books or music or art than those around me. I recently figured out that I am better off avoiding violent movies due to the stress they cause me. If I have done or said the wrong thing, I often feel the guilt or embarrassment of it for hours, sometimes even for days. I cry about things that most other people do not seem to get upset about, and I seem to have a much harder time "shaking things off" than others do. The smallest bits of chaos or disorder in my environment can cause me a great deal of stress.

In the past, if I wasn't joking that I was borderline autistic or OCD, I would proclaim that I must just be plain neurotic. To me, none of the things above added up to just one thing, but rather were just slightly freakish things about me that, quite frankly, often annoyed me because they seemed so incongruous with the rest of the world. When I read The Highly Sensitive Person, it was as though a light bulb went on, as though I finally understood the ways in which I relate to my environment. In retrospect, it seems obvious that all of the things above would add up to sensitivity. But somehow, I didn't put everything together, and giving those qualities a name--being highly sensitive--gave me a sense of control and relief. Understanding that I am highly sensitive makes it so much easier for me to navigate the world and to comprehend my seemingly abornmal reactions to things. Reading this book gave me the profound experience of reading something by a total stranger and unquestionably seeing myself reflected in it. I felt understood and affirmed and distinctly less freakish.

The few people I know who have read this book, and who have known from chapter one that it was speaking about them, have had a profound reaction to it. Like all labels, not everything in the book describes or defines me, but overall, the label of HSP feels like a comforting blanket to me, one that makes me feel more secure in the world, not to mention less alone. This is a book I refer to mentally again and again, and if you think you might be an HSP, I can almost guarantee that you are sure to do the same. It has truly changed the way I see myself and my place in the world, and it's nice to no longer worry that I may need a psychiatric assessment. :)