There is that moment upon awakening when all the issues in my external life come crashing back down upon my conscious mind, where awareness of life’s current circumstances come rushing back at me like a swarm of furious bees. With every passing day of the last week, it got more ruthless, and the dark, intense mood I found myself in had begun growing and growing.
To some degree, this tends to happen to me quite frequently, but rarely this extreme. My emotions get unbearably intense at times, like this awesome pressure building up in my body, pushing relentlessly against the boundary of my skin. The energy concentrates in my head, however, making my eyes feel as if they are locked on high-beam. I don’t blink as much, or so it seems to me, and being stuck in the stare makes me uncertain where to place my eyes.
I am hypersensitive to other people’s emotions, often hateful towards myself when I react to them as if they are my own. The empathy requires that I change their emotions in order to change what I cannot block due to the high sensitivity. I end up feeling intrusive, nosey, concerned about others to levels that I know seem creepy.
Sometimes I feel that I know what people are thinking or what they are going to say and ready my responses. Sometimes, though not often, I can literally hear as an inner voice what they are saying to themselves in their head. The spider of synchronicity, of meaningful coincidence, weaves a web around me. These allegedly psi aspects of my overload periods I often interpret as potential indications of my insanity, conjuring up the fears and dismal feelings associated with my recurrent suspicions that I may in fact be schizophrenic.
The disorganized means of communication that results from the inner emotional pressure seem to worry me the most: in many respects, psychosis and other such mental disorders seem to share the theme of communication breakdown. Is it that it’s hard to think over the high volume of my emotions? That it distracts my thoughts or communication to the point that it comes out disorganized and nonsensical? My thoughts make sense to me in these instances; the way in which I communicate the subjective contents to others seems to be the issue. It embarrasses me, as I fear the confusion towards me, I fear they suspect this might indicate my insanity and they will look down on me, think poorly of me. Yet it is difficult to dismiss the meaningful coincidences or the telepathy, especially the occasions in which it has been clear reception, as the other person has, in at least two circumstances, confirmed what I heard them think.