On Being an Empath

5 06 2017

Being an empath means calling someone because a little voice told you to pick up the phone and reach out, and when the person answers in tears on the other end, listening to whatever shitbomb the universe has handed them that day, and never once questioning why you walked away from cooking breakfast to make a phone call that seemed suddenly urgent.

Being an empath means that the tug at your belly button telling you to GET ON THE ROAD because you JUST WANT TO GET HOME feels “normal-ish but with weirdly urgent overtones” until you pass a girl being dragged out of a smashed car on the highway and realize after you’re home and safe that the tug at your tummy and perhaps the reason you got a burger to go instead of sitting and eating may have been the girl on the side of the road, and not so much the wish to be driving home.

Being an empath means that you freak out for no reason suddenly envisioning yourself in a car wreck, only to have someone dear to you call, interrupt your panicked vision, and tell you that they’ve just been in a car wreck, and could you please come pick them up because the car is totaled.

Being an empath means that after the shock wears off, and the tears have dried, you find yourself wondering why you picked the red skirt to wear today. Was it chance or did you know that a random stranger’s blood would be drying on the hem by nightfall?

Being an empath means that “processing” the inexplicable is a no man’s land oscillating between disbelief at the sheer number of coincidences resulting in your well timed appearance in the exact place where you’re needed, and acceptance that “that’s just how this weird quirk called empathy works”…  and that logic, the most honed and well loved tool in your personal toolbox has no place here.

Being an empath means that you’re up too late, wishing the girl in the wreck you stopped at tonight had been coherent enough to tell you her last name, so that you could check on her tomorrow, and knowing already that it will be months before she can hold her toddler again.

Being an empath means feeling it in your core when the world is hurting, and having no ability to fix it beyond accepting the job at hand, knowing that it’s a mindfuck of a job, and doing it anyway.

Being an empath means being tired beyond belief, but too hyped to sleep, and so vomiting words onto the internet seems like a temporary balm, because you know that the job will never be done, the universe will keep putting you in places you’re needed, but that tonight’s chapter of “empathy in action” was shitty and took a toll.

Being an empath sucks. But it’s part of me, and I don’t know any other me to be.




3 responses

5 06 2017
Patricia Harding

I am with you girl and I understand everything that you just wrote and felt. Sometimes I just wish my brain wold take a little nap once in a while.

5 06 2017

{{hugs}} Thank you for being the wonderful person that you are. Prayers sent. ❤

6 06 2017
Stu Sotherden

As the father of 3 adult children each with different gifts, I marvel at each of your strengths, talents and abilities. Your gift of empathy although sometimes frustrating is the reason why another father’s daughter received support, nurture and care in a time of great need. You were a blessing and a guardian angel for another and for that I am truly grateful that you are my daughter.

Sent from my iPad


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