Today I’m writing to you, about my childhood throughout to present day adulthood, how my experiences shaped me as a person and how I began to discover my ability as an empath. It is a common myth that autistic people do not empathise however it has been stated in an article that in fact we do – but without proper training or understanding, we either take on too much input or completely block it out. For now, we will begin at the start of my life, then move slowly onto the present day.
Throughout my childhood, I have noticeably been able to feel quite deeply the pain of others, to the point where I found myself in almost physically agony over what they were going – whether or not we had spoken, crossed eyes for a brief moment or just seen one and another in the street as passers-by. As I was growing up, I noticed – better said, one of my teachers at the time noticed my ability to notice her shift in mood – albeit small changes, I still noticed and it perplexed her as much as it did me at the time. I never truly at that time understood as it was shaken off as over-analysis due to my autism but still the memory of this event fascinates me.
As I moved on into my more adolescent years, I began to notice that some of these feelings were clinging to me and within a short space of about a year’s time, they clung to me like glue – indistinguishable from my own, even in the brightest of lights, I could not make out how then I truly felt. I was diagnosed not much later with depression and it was to many people’s dismay that this had happened. I was always known as smiler – I may feel like the world is falling in on me but I still smile, put on a happy face and sometimes, it’s genuinely how I feel. It was very surprising at the time that I had been diagnosed with this condition and many times I tried to shrug it off.
For just about the year prior, I had managed to relieve myself of the anxiety – what I had noted at the time, albeit fairly late in the process, is the trigger. I had noted that my previous relations and my ties to those previous memories had left me open for attack. In order to relieve myself, I wrote poems endlessly until I tired myself out and burned out the fire that once was my driving force at the time for writing. I still continue to write to this day but what I wrote about then is dead and buried where it should be.
Following this, I took up a degree in Photography of which to my unfortunate demise had lead me back into depression once more, as I was not enjoying my studies, my classes and so I changed courses. I enrolled late Autumn into Contemporary Arts, where I could freely escape my own mind. Over the course of these three years, I developed my writing style to use as relief when I felt the need to write and used other art forms when I felt the same need. At the end of my three years, I had developed a system for relief, turning poetry into music and that into compositions far beyond its original – this offered me peace, knowing that the feelings buried within these were torn like old photographs and then burned into ashes.
Where I am at now, is delving into my mind again after losing my grip on where I wanted my direction in life to take me, so for now, I am going with the flow and resuming the use of my previous system in order to find relief. I am currently researching techniques to enhance my abilities as an empath and to ensure that in future years I am safe but not isolated within my mind, feelings and emotions.