I am sensitive. I was sensitive even before.
I am sensitive to smell. Even the normal fabric softener I love smells like a flower bomb exploded in my nose….and not in a good way.
I am sensitive to taste. What use to taste like magic…basil, garlic..spices, spices, spices! Now taste 2nd rate. I actually don’t really want to taste any of that. My body doesn’t (but my heart does).
I am sensitive to sounds. Too loud, too soft, too harsh. Negative sounds, negative words weigh heavy on me. I cry and find something "light" to help me feel better.
I am sensitive to sights. My eyes sometimes sees things that don’t even exist. Things look more. My usual glances turn into stares with each color and each shadow and each contour holding meaning it never held before. What are they trying to say? Have they changed or have I? Plus, I see way more more spiders.
My subconscious is sensitive. My dreams are tender and emotional. They tell me things I’m not ready to know yet.
My heart is sensitive.
My mind is sensitive.
My body is sensitive.
My thoughts are sensitive.
My spirit is sensitive.
I am a mother.
I am an animal.
I am a mammal.
Without choice, I am fiercely protective of something I can’t feel, see or hear.
I stand at ready surveying the environment ready to attack, destroy, ROAR if anything trys to harm you.
I feel exhausted.
I feel inadequate.
I know my nature but still fear I will throw the covers over my head and decide….not to.
There you are, the first on my mind. And really the only thought that means much anymore.
I don’t even try.
It’s just natural.
Without choice, I’m sensitive.
With choice, I am learning what that means.