An Empath's Good-Bye

Will A. Sanborn

2/4, 2/15/01

People who don't know us always talk about how lucky we are, how the powers, as they call it, give us an edge, but they don't know what it's like. It's not like we're mind-readers, able to dig out hidden thoughts with some third eye's piercing gaze. Even when you tell them that it's just impressions of feelings we're receptive too, they feel like that's enough. It's more than the what rest of the world can do, and that's enough to make them both wary and envious of us.

They don't know what it's like though, to discover those talents, to have them forced upon you actually, and to try and make sense of what you're picking up from those people around you. Even once you've learned to master the gift somewhat, at least having learned to deal with it, it's still not easy. Even after years of living with it, the waves of emotions I'd catch from some people could be overwhelming. I'd learned to block it out as much as possible, but that doesn't work all the time, especially with strong emotions

Imagine what it's like to catch a whiff of emotion from someone and not being able to act upon it, instead just being a silent witness. One time on a bus I could feel the anguish radiating off of one of the other passengers sitting near me. It was strong enough so it was easy to tell who it was coming from, but I wasn't able to ask a complete stranger why they were so sad, I was powerless to comfort them. It all seemed so pointless to me. When my defenses are down, it's easy for me to be distracted by someone's stray emotions, and at times people have seen and recognized my reactions to those intrusions. I can still see their accusing stares, as if I'd trespassed into their hidden lives, instead of being assaulted with the energy they were so heavily broadcasting.

You can forget about having any stable, long-term relationships too. Most people wouldn't even give an empath the chance, no matter how much they may envy us, they don't want to be involved with someone who they perceive as having so much of an advantage against them. Even the ones who claim they're okay with it don't last very long. I remember one guy I was interested in, who had such a low self-esteem that he became convinced I was only with him out of pity, and that he had no qualities that I could genuinely be attracted to. Him knowing how much I could read his loneliness just made things worse, and my trying to help only drove us further apart.

I tried dating other empaths a couple of times, not that there's many of us around anyway, but that didn't work out much better. You'd think that two people both having the same abilities and similar backgrounds would have a better chance at it, but it didn't work like that. With another empath, your blocks don't work as well, so there's even more broadcasts to deal with. That could be straining at times. Not to mention that we've all gotten pretty much used to being outsiders, and it's hard to relate on such an intimate level with someone, even another outcast like yourself.

Finally, after trying group sessions, counseling and various therapies, I took what some might consider the easy way out. It seemed like the only chance I had for any kind of a normal life, and it wasn't that easy anyway. The drugs worked exactly like they'd promised, they worked too good in fact. They did block out the receptive areas of our brains, stopping the broadcasts from those around us, and at first I believed they really were going to help me. That's not all the medication did though. While it dulled, and then eventually completely quieted those external emotions, it also affected my own feelings as well.

At first I'd thought it was just my adjusting to the lack of noise from all around me, but then I gradually began to realize that my own emotions were being quelled. It was slow and insidious, but it happened all the same, leaving me so empty inside. I hadn't thought it could be worse than the feeling of alienation I'd been living with for so long, but I wasn't prepared for the numbness that wrapped itself around me. It's been like this for weeks now, I just feel so flat and lifeless.

I suppose I could always go off the drugs again, but what's the point? Even as numb as I feel now, I know that having to go back to that again would be too much for me. I've had too much of it, and either way it seems too much to bear. I'm just tired from it all, and after all of this, I realized that it's better this way.

I don't know how many people will miss me. I know I haven't been to the group in awhile, but I never really connected with it anyway, just another failed relationship. Still, someone might be curious as to what happened to me. The doctors are going to wonder what went wrong too, not that they'll really be able to understand it. I figured it was easier to make this tape than write a letter, and maybe it gives a better picture as well, to anybody who cares. Perhaps at least it can help someone else out, so they won't make the same mistake I did. To the few people who knew me and tried to help, I'm sorry I couldn't be as strong as you wanted me to be, I just couldn't take it any longer. I just want to go to sleep now, hopefully that'll finally give me some peace...


Copyright 2001, Will A. Sanborn - was1@shore.net