The Holidays Can Be Brutal for Empaths
I’ve been an empath my whole life, I just didn’t know it had a name until the past few years. I can feel peoples’ happiness, sadness, and pain. I sometimes have an urge to say to someone on the light rail “Hey, it is going to be ok.” It’s just who I am.
The holidays kill me, every year. This year was probably the worst ever, and it’s making me consider giving my family one holiday a year, instead of 2 in consecutive months.
It’s. Just. That. Bad.
I don’t need to get into the shitty details, but I appear to be the only happy person in my entire family. The complaints. The passive-aggressive muttering under the breath. One sibling not even showing up. Throw in a divorce that nobody is talking about, and you get an anxious empath.
When you are surrounded by unhappiness for 4 days, all stuck in one house, it takes its toll. My shoulders were killing me within a few hours of arriving. I knew it was going to be a rough one, based on that.
I ended up coming home the evening of Xmas, because I physically and emotionally just couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as I walked in my apartment, the tears started to flow. A giant release, and I can still hear myself saying “How can people be so miserable all the time?”
Misery may love company, but I certainly don’t want any part of it. I wake up happy every day, because I WANT to be happy.
Why would anyone NOT want to be happy?
