Real empaths feel too much.  Real narcissists don’t seem to feel anything, or at least not in regard to others’ feelings.  Showing your vulnerable side to a narcissist in an attempt to explain how his or her behavior might be hurtful will just invite more abuse, whether they’re in a relationship with you or you just happen to be the latest fixation of the narcissist who’s trying to make his or her own deep personal pain go away.  Narcissists–at least the ones I’ve had experiences with–have a deep self-loathing.  That might seem incongrous with their arrogant me-me-me-me-me-me-me attitude on display, but they have a tremendous sense of unworthiness that causes them to lash out at others in an attempt to increase their self-esteem.  The ones I’ve known personally have an unfathomably deep sense of shame about something in their lives, usually in early childhood.  I don’t know if it’s true of all narcissists, but the ones in my observation have abandonment issues with at least one parent, all stemming from something that happened when they were pre-schoolers, and have ensured they never get close enough to anyone again to feel abandoned.

Whereas the narcissist doesn’t connect well or much with others, the empath connects too much.  The empath literally feels what someone else feels, whether it’s strong emotion or physical pain. I know because I am one, and I’ve made friends with other empaths over the years because it’s helped me deal with my difficulties.  I have frequently felt a heavy pain in my chest when someone was near– and by now I can tell the difference (most of the time) between someone else’s physical pain and my own–only to find out that the person was having heart trouble.  I’ve felt the inner anxiety of a person, the hidden stresses behind the smile, the anger no one else could see right before someone lashed out or became violent.  I can explain it in several ways but if you don’t believe that one person’s feelings can be perceived by another, then no amount of scientific, psychological, or spiritual explanation will convince you.  All I can tell you is what I’ve experienced myself, and it’s both a blessing and a curse.

Being an empath is at its most incredible when you’re in a loving, bonded relationship and giddy with the newness of discovering each other.  It’s at its worst when you let your own feelings be overshadowed by someone  else’s, particularly when those feelings are loaded with anxiety or grief.  It’s for these reasons that I save myself the agony of hanging out around airports and medical facilities–too much intense negative emotion by others leaves me feeling…rubbed raw.   But even worse for an empath is being in a relationship with a narcissist.

Non-narcissists on a negative or depressed binge are bad enough but the diagnosed narcissist bonded with a feeling, sensitive empath?  Hell for the empath.  The empath, for example, may be looking forward to celebrating their first anniversary.  She wants to go out for a picnic dinner at sunset.  She’s exhausted after being cooped up with a sick baby for the past week but the grandparents are babysitting, the picnic basket is packed,  she’s put on her prettiest dress, and she’s so happy and excited as she waits for her husband to come through the door after work.  He’s been promising her this outing for the past month, and she can’t wait.  Then hubby walks in and plops down in front of the TV to watch the news.  He’s sullen, unhappy.  He tells her he doesn’t want to go out for the picnic.  He’ll just eat the sandwiches while he watches TV.  He tells her he’s tired.  She knows.  She can feel how tired he is because she’s an empath who feels physical feelings of others.  He tells her his work day was long and disappointing.  She knows it was disappointing–she can feel his inner despair–because she’s an empath who can feel emotional feelings of others.  After eating his share of their anniversary meal in front of the TV, he announces that he’ll cheer himself up by going to his best friend’s house for the next couple of hours.  She’s hurt by his behavior, yes.  Perhaps she’s angry–but that will probably come later.  Right now, in his presence, she feels what he does and it all makes perfect sense that he go to his friend’s to feel better.  It makes perfect sense that he doesn’t want to celebrate with her because he’s tired or in a bad mood.  She can see the event so vividly from his point of view that it overpowers her own wishes for herself. 

I’ve noted that many empath-narcissist relationships echo codependent-abuser relationships. (That’s not to say that all empaths are abused or that all codependents are abused, etc,etc.)   I cannot think of a single empath I know personally who isn’t or didn’t used to be codependent–in other words, a people-pleaser/self-sacrificer/martyr.  I’m a  recovering codependent and I must stay very conscious of doing things for myself and taking care of myself or else I’ll give up everything I want to make someone else happy.  I’m more me-focused now that I’ve ever been and happier than I’ve ever been because I’m no longer putting everyone else ahead of me to the point of self-annihilation, but it’s hard for me to do.  It’s not that I want to control people as many codependents do, but I want to control outcomes.  I want everyone to be happy and fulfilled, even if that means I have to give up what I want again and again. 

One of the most gifted (0r most cursed) empaths I know is in a relationship with a female narcissist.  When he is away from her, such as at his job or on a business trip, his true personality comes out.  He’s a gentle, happy person who spends his time making others feel good, too, or talking them through difficult times.  When he goes home to her, he becomes a mirror to what she wants.  I’ve seen him become irrational whenever she’s been in one of her irrational snits, to the point of sounding as if he’s channelling her.  It becomes her words, her emotions pouring out of his mouth.  If she feels insecure or angry or no matter how abusive she is toward him, he immediately understands and sees himself in the way she does.  I’ve asked him how he can flip-flop between being so calm and collected with us and then seem “possessed” by her when she’s around, and he explains it that when she thinks he’s a horrible person and really feels that he is, then he does, too, because he can feel her feelings that he’s a horrible person.  Her feelings may not make sense but when she’s in them–or when he’s in them–they make perfect sense to the two of them.  Like many empaths, he meshes with the personalities of the people he’s with and becomes like them, losing himself in someone else’s emotions.  When he’s with her, he sees her, the world, himself, everything from her point of view…and as an abuser, she makes sure she’s with him as much as possible so he doesn’t get any time away from her to sort through his own feelings.  I’ve seen this stay-within-my-presence-so-I-can-remind-you-how-great-I-am behavior from most narcissists in relationships, though it’s not necessarily a sign of narcissism but more one of insecurity.  If the empath can be controlled by  being in a narcissist’s presence and the narcissist can feed off the empath’s understanding and devotion, then the relationship becomes very sick very quickly.

Both empaths and narcissists have a big problem with boundaries.  The narcissist has never met a boundary he/she  didn’t cross and the empath has no idea what a boundary is. Narcissists tend to be exciting, dynamic, charismatic people and it’s wonderful to be around them–initially.  But the relationships they form are shallow connections and they’ll move on to the next person who’ll make them feel good without much more than a second thought such as one narcissist I know who goes from marriage to marriage to marriage and leaves just before the thrill dulls.  They’ll do things to others that are criminal (the one guy who arranged to have his wife  gangbanged)  if there’s a thrill in it.  They’ll run away (literally or figuratively)  if the connection verges on becoming too emotional or too risky of showing their deepest vulnerability.  They’ll breach polite etiquette (the dinner guest who went through my things and donned my sexiest underwear in front of other guests, family, and me). 

For narcissists, if you set a boundary, they will try to cross it.  I’ve been stalked by narcissists and they need to have attention on them, constantly, and will cross the boundaries from creeping to harassing just to remind you they’re still there.  I’ve told narcissistic men not to pursue me because I wanted absolutely nothing to do with them ever again because of their past mistreatment–and wow, what a challenge it’s become to get and keep my attention then! 

For empaths, setting boundaries is the only way to live with the curse of feeling what others feel and getting lost in others’ points of view.  The only way to stay grounded and true to your own personality, your own needs and wants, your own dreams is to learn to set boundaries and not let others cross them. 

Here are a few things that have helped me as an empath:

1.  I hang out with positive people and people whose attitudes are more similiar to mine when I’m alone.  I stay far away from negative people and drama queens, if I can.

2.  I don’t make instant decisions after a persuasive argument from someone else.  Too easy for me to say yes immediately because I can so understand their point of view and excited feelings toward a subject without being sure that those are my feelings, too.  If I decide based on someone else’s excitement, I tend to regret it.

3.  If I’m inclined to make a quick decision, I stop to ask myself if this is in-line with my wants, needs, dreams, personality.   If I get a hell-yes from inside with no tiny niggling doubt, then it’s usually a good quick decision.  If I’m overwhelmed by the feeling to say yes but something inside is contradictory in any way, then I’m likely being swayed by someone else’s enthusiasm and not my own. This is such a matter of boundaries!

4. If I find myself becoming lost in someone else’s feelings, I spend a day or two away from that person.  If that person has a problem with my being out  of their influence for a day or two, then it’s even more important for me to take a little break and re-assess my own feelings.

5.  If I’m dating someone who has had many, many, superficial relationships and is over 40, I take an emotional step away. 

6. Once I realize someone fits the pattern of Narcissistic Personality Disorder–or outright tells me he’s been diagnosed!–I stay the hell away.

7.  If I start to feel depression or despair when things are going well for me, I stop and ask myself where it’s coming from.  The day I realized I was an empath was after a horrible experience where I took on the feelings of a suicidal woman I was helping–and suddenly realized that my deep despair and even the way I phrased my despair was out of character.  I know that my true self is serene and calm, so when I become emotionally turbulent, I always (now) look at what’s going on in my life.  If I’ve just been through a breakup or a medical scare, then yes, those turbulent feelings are probably my own.  If life is great for me but I’ve just had a chat with a colleague who is distraught over her son and now I’m depressed, then that turbulence is usually something I’ve brought home with me from having a close connection with my colleague.  Once I can distinquish my own feelings from the feelings of others, I can break the connection…if I want.  Sometimes, if the feelings are very strong, I don’t realize at first that they’re not mine.  That may sound strange to the non-empath, but being able to tell the difference and know that boundary is crucial to an empath’s happiness.

8.  I never apologize for my own emotions.  They are my best guide to living the life I want, but I must be aware of the difference between my emotions and someone else’s I’m bonded with.  If I am feeling good, feeling at ease, feeling happy, then my life is on-track.

Every year around this time, I do a little life coaching exercise that’s featured in Give Your Life Direction.  The idea is to make a list of things I wish I could say but, for whatever reason, can’t.  Maybe because the other person is dead.  Maybe because it would be too dangerous to confront them.  Maybe because the other person lives far away.  Or maybe because I just don’t feel I can be honest with my emotions, whether they are jealous, angry, or wounded.  My fifth chakra, the throat chakra, has often been rather weak, but I’ve been actively strengthening it.

The first year I tried this exercise, I had a list as long as my arm.  It was only  “supposed” to be ten things, but I kept going, shocked at how much I’d kept bottled up.  A few years later, the list was down to the five to eight range. Last year, I had to dig a little harder and still ended up in the five to eight range, thanks mostly to some secrets I was keeping for someone else. Every year of this exercise, the burden gets a little lighter.

I sat down a few days ago to make my list for the year…and nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

The closest I could come was a conversation I’d like to have with one particular man in my life who has been out of town, but I’ve held off only because it would be nicer to have the conversation  face-to-face, alone.  It’s nothing bad–no anger, no jealousy, no I’m-hurt, no why-did-you-do-this?, no nothing of that sort.  Instead, it’s just a nice talk about something personal and lovely.

Right now, there’s little to nothing that I have bottled up, no emotion I’m swallowing because I’m afraid to say it or fear the ramifications if I do.

I kinda like it this way.

Photo by ShotsAtRAdom; creative commons license

When I was a little girl in a Southern Baptist church, the preachers often talked about how we’d all recognize each other when we got to heaven.  Even as a child, I had a few problems with the way this scenario was presented to me.  Sometimes we were told that everyone would magically turn 33 again (the age of Jesus on the cross) and that’s the age we’d appear to be in heaven.  I had issues with this nice little fantasy!

First of all, I didn’t quite understand how we’d get to take our bodies with us.  Our physical bodies were sinful, after all.   Or look exactly the way we wanted to.  And if we looked exactly the way we wanted to, then how would anyone recognize us?  By the time I was a teenager, I already disliked any photograph that actually looked like me, so how would someone recognize me? I had a long way to go before I was 33 and who knew what I’d look like then?  How would I recognize my grandparents if they were walking around those streets of gold, carrying harps and being 33 when I’d never known them at 33? 

Of course, the preachers, Sunday School teachers, and parents all seemed mortified at my questions.  Questions really weren’t allowed in the church I grew up in.  Questions meant doubts and doubts equaled “going to hell.”    So most people kept their mouths shut and tormented themselves in private.

But now I understand exactly how we might “recognize” each other in the afterlife, or next life, or heaven, or whatever you choose to call it.  It works just as well in this life, too, right now, here on Earth.

After my grandfather died, he visited me in my dreams many times.  On one occasion, he appeared to me as a young man, in his 20’s, in a suit from the 1930’s.  It frightened me because I didn’t recognize him.  It was his energy, his essence, but not the way I’d known him.  In my dream, my anxiety saddened him and he became an old man again, and I was comfortable with that.

Since then, I’ve come to understand my empathic nature much more clearly. 

Unless my own emotions are very turbulent, I now will feel sadness, euphoria, or anxiety and know that something important is happening to a loved one.  I can often tell WHICH loved one. 

More recently, I’ve had experiences where I felt someone’s scathing hatred—and I’ve been able to tell who was suddenly focused on me and verify it with physical evidence.  That’s a longer story and a more private story than I can explain here, but having that “recognition” of another person’s essence or energy physically and scientifically validated was a shock for me.  I didn’t have to hear her angry voice, see her enraged face, or even receive an email or IM from her.  I simply recognized the feel of this person’s energy when she focused on me and when she reacted to her thoughts of me, which were expressed hundreds of miles away to someone else at the same instant in time…to the exact minute.  I found it both disturbing (her mental state) as well as somewhat euphoric (my amazement at recognizing the signature of her energy and thoughts).  I’d had this happen with people I’d connected with emotionally in a love relationship but never with someone I wasn’t a fan of and usually not validated in such a physical way as this was.

But I still didn’t think of it in terms of “recognizing” someone without recognizing their physical presence.  Two things happened that made it clear for me—1.  I learned a lot about grave dirt in spells/rituals and 2.   a “stranger” friended me on Facebook.

A practitioner of what some people would ignorantly refer to as “Black Magick” explained how grave dirt is used in her rituals (these were rituals for protection, not harm, by the way, so stop being panicky).  From her explanation of dirt from a grave being “charged” with the energy of that person, I began to understand better that our bodies house our essence or energy and become “charged” so that other people associate who we really are with the bodies that carry us.  When those bodies die, they are still charged with that energy and when buried, the ground around them becomes charged with that energy.  Hence, a person who was a stronger protector in life might leave behind grave dirt that is highly charged with that protector-influence.  It’s like picking up a shirt left behind by an old lover and still finding his scent on it and smiling at the memories its charged with.    For most people, the concept of grave dirt carrying the energy of the person buried there is way too morbid or bizarre to think about, let alone to consider the recognition of that energy as anything other than “bad.”  Me, I find it to be an interesting correlation.  We might sense a loved one at a cemetery but we might also sense them in their homes.

I finally put it all together when I received an email from a name I didn’t recognize.  In the past, I’ve  opened emails and felt that person’s energy attached to their words, sometimes knowing the emotional content before I read a single word of it.  Some people use their emails magickally, and once you open the email, it’s considered “accepted” so that you get the brunt of whatever emotions  or persuasive ideas those words were charged with. Sensing the sender’s own energy or essence when opening an email is an odd feeling, but quite real and very specific to the person.  It’s like walking into a room and smelling gardenia perfume and knowing your grandmother is nearby.  Even if other people in your life wear gardenia perfume, it always mixed with your grandmother’s skin in such a way that it’s a unique scent.  In this case, the email wasn’t directly from the person with the strange name but through a social network, so it wasn’t as strong.  Still, there was something about the essence around that name that caught my attention.   I researched the name, which didn’t even vaguely resemble any birth name or married name of anyone I’d ever known, and found a piece of artwork online.  When I looked at the art, I felt the energy of a girl I’d known 28 years ago who has since disappeared and changed her name to start a life elsewhere.   Had I seen a picture of her, I would not have recognized her.  But her energy?  Yes.

So no, we don’t need our bodies in heaven to recognize each other.  In fact, we don’t need them here to recognize each other either.

Photo by Aislinn Bailey.

A spontaneous moment of genuine happiness.

I am suddenly living my life “in the open.” But that’s not quite the right analogy.

Queen of Metaphors that I am,  I am still searching for the best way to describe this new shift in my life toward even more brutal authenticity of emotion.  For several years now, I’ve allowed honeysuckle and roses to climb trellises around the front of my house and hide much of my home and home life.  I hired Earl last week to clear out the overgrown mess I’ve been working on for several months.  He, with the right equipment, pulverized it in a single day.    It’s the strangest feeling, looking now at my house and how much bigger it and the yards seem—almost like life itself is bigger.  It’s so much more…open.    There’s nothing to hide behind, and I now have room to plant exotic new treats here and there.  My life feels a bit like that  now, like there’s an openness that wasn’t there before and I can fill it with whatever fanciful things I want, or just let the me that was cloaked before shine through.  

It’s ironic that at the same time I feel this new sense of openness, I am closing off much of my private life to others. I’ve closed down my personal blog and my details of daily life.  My journaling helped me through some awful times and helped both me and many others, but that part of my life is done for now.  I can put aside the silliness of grown women who misinterpret my life from many miles away and leave MySpace pages dedicated to trying to hurt me…that I don’t find for a year or more.  My holier-than-thou relatives will have to go back to talking to me to know what’s happening in my life.  My journals were never for them anyway. 

It seems incongruous that I would feel suddenly “in the open” at the same time I’m no longer openly sharing my life, but  I understand what this is about.  I rarely have to work through personal tragedies like I used to and I’m keeping my personal blessings in a tighter circle now, not intruded upon by those who might pass judgment without knowing me…or with knowing me.  At the same time, I’m more authentic in my emotions.  I realize that some people in my life might not be comfortable with my feelings, but they’re mine and mine to deal with. I don’t try to hide or explain away my feelings any longer.  I am letting those feelings remain “out in the open.”  Honest, raw at times, real….

Thank you for reading!  The complete version of this article is now included in Give Your Life Direction.

 Photo by littlesprite; used with permission; all rights reserved.

With rain on the horizon, a lot of local Solstice rituals were cancelled because they were weather dependent. Or because it was just way too hot outside.  Neither was a problem for us.  The weather cooled down the moment the circle was cast, the mosquitoes we’d been slapping all day disappeared for the whole ritual, and the sky ebbed into twilight on the longest day of the year but the clouds never darkened.  And even though there was no rain and no sweat, we ended up soaking ourselves with fresh water!

We wore fresh, bright summer roses behind our ears (for the female) and little oak branches (for the male).  I’ve been in many rituals where the energy was flat or jagged, but this one was very peaceful and loaded with good feelings.  It was spontaneous to a large degree, without any serious stress.  I feel that rituals should never be about “performance” and this one certainly felt that way.

I’ve begun incorporating astrological correspondences much more heavily into my rits and using it as a teaching/manifesting tool.  I had planned to share a more about our Summer Solstice but one of my students posted his thoughts on the ritual in such a perfect way that I’ll let him speak for me….

…We went back home to find Lorna looking radiant and every bit the Wiccan High Priestess. We performed a beautiful ritual- where I got to cast and release the circle. We spent quite a lot of time in the West quarter, after Lorna explained that the Summer Solstice- when the Sun is in the first degree of cancer, the sign of emotions and the Moon- is the best time to focus on the emotions from the past year you want to honor and release, as well as to focus on the emotions and emotional state you want to manifest in the coming thirteen moons. We ”washed our hands,” both literally and spiritually, of all the emotions we no longer wanted or needed, and then drank in new water and new emotions. At the end of the ritual, as Lorna was releasing the West quarter, a small wind started up right in fromt of us- shaking all the leaves in the West of the backyard and cooling us all. It seemed that the West Wind- west being the direction of Water and emotions- had sprung up to carry all of our past wounds away, and to give us a promise that everything we’d asked for would be given.

Then, we had a feast. Not a little family dinner- a full-on Brian-Jaques-Redwall-worthy feast. Roast chicken and rosemary potatoes and watermelon and corn and bread and pie… it was wonderful. 

Yes.  It was.

Part of the idea of “connection” is that I am able to be myself, completely. No facades, no barriers, no walls. If you think of connection in terms of energetic “flow,” then this makes perfect sense.  You cannot exchange energy with someone else if there are walls up.  You may get a little bit of exchange at a surface level or feel the pulse of electricity close by, but it’s shallow, superficial, untouched.  This is why deep connections have always been important to me and I’ve never found shallow ones to be really satisfying–and I will seek out deep connections at all costs.

I’ve noticed that I’ve trusted such connections to stay intact much moreso with women than with men.  I’ve had female friends over the years who have come and gone from my life, and yet, every time we’re together, it’s as if no time has passed.  We may not have spoken or communicated in years, but when we are in physical proximity, the flow of love and friendship is as strong as ever. That’s true ONLY if there is the deep connection I speak of and it never works for friendships where this connection never existed to begin with.  But I have had little to no trouble trusting this connection with women, perhaps because I’ve enjoyed a close relationship with my mother from the time I was small.  I just simply KNOW that the connection is always there, no matter how far away or how long.

If I go to my earliest male connection, then that would be Daddy.  I never had the connection with him that I wanted.  There were barriers.  There were walls.  But I could never really be myself.  Up until not long before he died, I consistently sought his approval and consistently (at least by all outward indications) failed.  Our connection was real only by feeling the electrical static of our proximity and not by the openness between us that flowed no matter where I went or what I did.

In my marriage, I never really had that deep connection I craved.  Yes, we were together a total of 23 years and I know how sad that sounds (and was), but there were always walls and barriers and I never in 23 years really felt that I could be myself with him.  The same is likely true for him because he kept so much of himself isolated from me. Even with children together, that connection was never there.  Our connection was by proximity, not by the deep emotional intimacy of two people completely at home with each other and able to share both their dreams and inadequacies without fear of losing that connection.

And so other men have come into my life in recent years.  With changes in old patterns, I’ve sought/attracted men with whom I can be myself and they as well can be true to their inner being, with few walls between us, those connections have been some of the deepest, most soul-touching of my life.  That’s a wonderful new pattern but it’s been strangled at times by an old pattern that says the connection is only in the proximity and if I’m not receiving confirmation of the connection through communication when out of proximity, then it must not be real, must not be true.

So here under the influence of a very powerful Scorpio Blue Moon, I see all those Scorpionic aspects together–secrecy, sexuality, intensity, trust, and truth–all in regard to my emotional connections with different men in my life…and I understand that if I ever felt that deep connection with any of them where we truly showed each other not just our wounds but also our souls, then those connections have not faded, regardless of blackouts in communication or in the distance of either time or space.