Empathy

I feel a lot.

Sometimes I wish I could just numb the 'feelings' part of my brain(and the "I really like food" part of my brain but that's a different post).

I'm like a sponge taking on the feelings or attributes of those around me. Even the characters in a book or movie. When I saw the movie "Return to Me" many years ago, I cried for three days. Pretty sure my husband was ready to call the Paddy Wagon. I read a book series about people living during the Ice Age and I suddenly wanted a lot of herbal tea and a hankering for mammoth meat. My mom has told me several times that I need to be careful with what I read because I take on any darkness, sadness or light I may read. Needless to say, I avoid Virginia Woolf after I made the mistake of reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. I've gotten better at compartmentalizing what I read or watch but I still can feel any darkness creeping in and I have to read something light, funny or spiritual for a while.

I can put myself in someone else's shoes with relative ease which tends to put me in uncomfortable situations. At girls camp one year, we were doing an over night back packing trip and I shared a tent with my best friend. That night it rained like there was an ark nearby and my friends sleeping bag got soaked. I hate being cold and wet so I told her she could share mine. She was very little. So we squeezed into my sleeping bag but guess what. I am ridiculously claustrophobic so it wasn't long before I freed myself from my own personal hell into another personal hell. I was wet, cold and wide awake all night. My friend slept great.

I cannot watch the news because I just can't handle all the ugliness. A friend posted a video that showed a woman beating her baby. I'm not kidding. she was beating. A baby. It was a "share this so we can find this woman and bring her to justice" kind of posts. I watched a little bit and cried. All day. Because there was nothing I could do for this baby and knowing she was not the only one living that life was more than I could bear.

If one of my kids gets their heartbroken, my heart is broken. I've been known to be upset and crying
long after they have gotten over it. My oldest has already been in some tough situations and every time she has had to deal with these things at such a young age, I break down. Even dealing with the recent issue, I couldn't talk to her without bawling about it.

I know, I'm a total blast.

It kinda makes me feel a little nuts sometimes. It's not a constant thing, I am usually pretty mellow. I contemplate taking antidepressants almost every month just to tone down the feelings so maybe I can handle these moments a little better. I wouldn't say I was depressed (and, trust me, I have been down that very dark and scary road before) but I can get so weighed down by it all that I just want to crawl into a dark hole and be left alone so I don't have to feel. It's times like this that I am very grateful I haven't taken up drinking. I honestly think I would be a drunk.

The awesome thing about feeling so much is the joy. When I have joy, it's a taste of pure heaven! When I can take a moment to stop worrying about EVERYTHING and feel nothing but that moment, it almost makes the heavier times worth it. Like the times I find myself in a place that is so beautiful it takes my breath away. Having a successful and fun outing with the family. A genuine spiritual experience shared with my family. Or an honest and open conversation with my husband over a quiet dinner together. Laughing at something funny a kid has done or said. Watching the pure joy on my baby's face as we play with bubbles or she sees an airplane in the sky, a horse, a flower.

As I laid in bed last night, feeling way more than I could handle, I thought of someone else Who felt way more than any of us could ever handle. I thought of My Savior Jesus Christ as He took on the pains, sins, sorrows and anguish of the world. And He did it all alone while his friends slept. He plead with The Father that this burden may be removed from Him, knowing full well He was the only one that could do it. An angel was sent to hold Him and strengthen Him, but He had to go it alone. The pain was so much, He bled from every pore. After this very long night, He was betrayed by a friend, taken, tried, whipped and hung on a cross by those who didn't understand.(Luke 22:41-23:46)

He did all this for me. And for you. Because of that, He knows my pains, my struggles and He can be my Angel holding me, strengthening me. He didn't pick and choose what He'd take on, He didn't say, "that person does not deserve this", He didn't shut it down when it became too much. He did it all. For each and every one of us.

He knows my name and I all I have to do is ask. He doesn't care about what I did or didn't do, about what I wear or the stupid things I say. He loves me no matter what. And He will take it on with me. He has taken it on for me.

And for that I am eternally grateful.