I'm Not 'Too' Sensitive - Are You? | Ecency

‘You’re just being over sensitive’, the conversation with an ex goes. ‘You don’t need to react in that way’.

‘You’ve always been a bit hypersensitive’, Mum says, in less a critical way than the ex. More a factual observation of my childhood. Easily stimulated. Not helped by asthma medication that would hype up my system in much the way sugary skittles might hype up a kid or too many double espressos might jangle even a caffeine addict.

'Stop being sooo sensitive' my husband used to say, in the early days of our marriage.

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In fact, these substances are known to jangle highly sensitive people like me. Food, sound, people can jangle and jitter 'people like me'. Not ‘over’ sensitive. Not ‘too’ sensitive. Just ‘sensitive’ – no judgement.

Just what is, because my brain is wired that way.

It took me many, many years to realise that the sensations in my body are a reaction to my external world, and it’s chaos and noise. It was not an abnormality on my part, despite the language that can be used to label me in negative ways, even though it wasn’t the intention of those who love me.
What I’ve discovered, over the years of puzzling out why I can’t bear the radio on at the same time as the television, or being in a crowded party, or being in a room of students all day and with my colleagues in the office over lunch (with no silence or space in between) is that I’m more sensitive to environmental stimuli. Whilst others don’t notice the sounds and smells and other sensory input around them, I’ll be much, much more sensitive to subtle stimuli. Just because I’m sensitive to the environment, however, doesn’t mean I don’t have solid emotional coping skills - I am not emotionally fragile, though it might appear that way to some.

What I seem to share with others (because I’m not the only one, despite spending years thinking so) is that I have something called HSP – that I’m a ‘highly sensitive person’ or, more scientifically, SPS (sensory processing sensitivity) according to Dr Elaine Aron:

Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS, HSP, or Highly Sensitive Person) is not a condition, a disorder, or a diagnosis. It is a neutral trait that evolved in 20% of the human population and many non-human species as well, because it is a survival advantage in some situations and not in others. Their survival strategy is to process information (stimuli) more thoroughly than others do, for which there is considerable evidence. This can certainly lead to overstimulation and possibly efforts to protect one’s self against that…SPS is not a disorder, but a reasonable strategy.

To discover that what I have always done and still do is a neural survival strategy rather than something ‘wrong’ is both upsetting to me (why didn’t I know this earlier, thus saving myself a whole heap of self esteem issues) and liberating, as I read through checklists and studies and stories from people just like me. My stories are the stories of other HSP’s.

^{Me, placid and calm, who could be also an 'overly sensitive' child.}

I tend to be very perceptive to people’s moods. In fact, it’s one of the narratives of my childhood. I always remember being quite anxious about Dad coming home, worrying he’d be stressed, because it would make me feel bad. This was ordinary stress, mind, from the business he ran. It’s just I found it hard to cope with. How could my father be loving on the weekends, but dismissive and grumpy through the week? It meant that my first long term boyfriend was incredibly grumpy with the capability of being incredibly lovely. It’s like I’d sought out a person to figure out those lessons from. It took me a while to figure out it wasn’t me - just my sensitivity to his moods. That kind of sensory awareness can be tricky for a HSP person (if I’m going to label myself) to understand.

Like anything, it’s super handy to know you are HSP. Once you know, the shame of being ‘too sensitive’ and unusual (because you can’t cope with visitors for longer than a few hours but everyone else can) dissipates somewhat. How nice it is to know that there’s nothing really wrong with you. Nothing you can help, anyway! I never knew that people had done research into exactly what I was struggling with:

needing quiet time, such as a quiet and/or dark room after periods of being around people
feeling more comfortable in nature and alone that with others
not being able to bear loud sounds (unless I was feeling good, in which case lots of music, loud, totally thrills me)
ready to kill the guy in the office that sprays his man perfume in the morning
thinks hell on earth is a scratchy woollen jumper
freaks out when I have more than 3 things on a list (managed by – more lists!)
avoid situations, such as parties with lots of people I don’t know, so I don’t have to cope with all the moods and subtleties of people’s emotions I’m trying to read even if I don’t want to
have always been told I’m ‘too sensitive’
live a lot of my life in my own head.
desperately needs to ‘shut up shop’ by about 9 pm so I can sleep and recharge ready for the next onslaught.
being incredibly moved by art and music - like, incredibly moved. To the point I don't shut up about it.

But it is a thing. It’s been well researched. Hypersensitivity is common, apparently, with around 15 percent of the population, and commonly, with people who have ADHD, and along with a high level of sensitivity to external input, are also much more likely to suffer from asthma, like me, and be easily overwhelmed by too much information.

Elaine Aron’s research into such high sensitivity lead her to write books about it. She writes on her blog that because there’s so many of us, it’s definitely not a disorder (phew!), but people won’t understand it as we’re less common. She also writes that it is innate – that it’s found in many species, and is reflective of a ‘certain type of survival strategy, being observant before acting’. Our brains will process information and reflect on it deeply whereas others might filter it out more efficiently. Because we notice more, whether we like it or not, we’re more likely to be overstimulated. Overstimulation for me? All those busy weeks at work, planning and teaching, dealing with a million problems spotfiring, coming home to listen to the husband talk about his day or projects, busy traffic, supermarket shopping, tidying up, running a blog, managing people in online forums and so on. Give me months of that over a day, a week, a term - I’m a frazzled wreck.

And so I began to label myself as an introvert - that I just found it hard to be around people. But that’s not the case, and makes me a contradiction, because I love people, and in many ways can be an extrovert. Aron’s research clarifies that introversion, shyness, or being inhibited (not me!) isn’t the basic trait – just a learnt reaction to manage being sensitivity. What’s more, she says that HSP people have ‘low self-esteem’ – because they’re told ‘don’t be so sensitive’. All of what she says really resonates with me, and if it resonates with you, you might want to explore her site which details beautifully what it means to struggle with sensory processing disorder, which is what ‘science’ calls it.

The contradictory thing about HSP or SPS (if you’re ‘diagnosed’ with one, chances are you have the other – and to varying degrees. Think ADD, for example, as at one end of the spectrum, or a child screaming every time the vacuum cleaner is turned on – but not necessarily SPD which is different, which Aron explains on her site) is that whilst I absolutely resonate with all of it, it can also cause people to crave sensory stimulation. I like heavy blankets to weigh me down when sleeping. Warm baths and massages are like heaven. I love fresh air on my face, but cannot bear windy days and will not go out in them if I can help it. Hugs are the best thing ever (unless I’m so stimulated that a hug is the worst thing in the world).

Emotional contagion (whereby you’re highly sensitive to people’s moods) is also linked to people having high empathy. Hence the other label that is often used to explain HSP – an ‘empath’. I have struggled a lot with this label because it doesn’t quite explain the breadth of my high sensitivity. I know I have a high degree of empathy – so much so that I have a jolt of electricity painful shoot through my leg in a sympathetic nervous response when I see people in pain, and my heart hurts when I see people in heightened emotional states (last week I sat in a café and bawled my eyes out watching people march for climate change, similarly, watching Thunberg rage at the inaction of politicians had me trying to stop bursting into floods of tears).

And then there’s the tendency for people with HSP – or degrees of SPS – to have heightened states of anxiety as an adult. Cue me again. This necessitates a good deal of preventative medicine - herbs for my nervous system, massages, being in nature and so on. It’s also about communicating to those around me why I behave – or react – the way I do, something I have taken years to explain to even my nearest and dearest, who love me for my sensitive empathy and compassion, but might get confused when I cancel plans, need my own space, or struggle to cope with the demands of work or social life.
In the process of researching into HSP and SPS, what I have come to realise (again) is that to know what it is that you suffer goes a long way to finding a way to manage both physical and mental health.