I live in California, and I am a little bit tense writing about my fears because I haven’t really shared them with anyone in the past. I feel this is an opportunity for me to help people by sharing my experience and talking about who helped me come out of the protective shell that I lived in due to the hurt I experienced in the past from people who neglected me. This is my story. I am a highly sensitive person and I never noticed until my parents passed away in a ghastly motor accident.
This was the most difficult period for me because I sought comfort and I needed to lean on someone, to confide in someone, to pour out my fears of not being able to do everything I’ve ever wished I could do and how much I missed my father. I knew already as a teenage boy that you do not get to show your feelings as society expected us to be strong, but I wasn’t. I needed to talk to someone as I didn’t know how to handle losing both my parents in a car accident. I moved in with my aunt and uncle, but they never really understood. They also looked at me like I was strong. After years of struggling with expressing myself, I slowly became very distant and quiet. I graduated with good grades and had my college degree too, and I started working, but I still felt very empty inside.
As a grown man, I’ve been in different flings, and I did not get anything out of it. Rather I shattered the tiny piece of love left in me. I became very sensitive due to my hidden emotional traumas. I later discovered that we sensitive people run to relationships because we feel the urgent need to find solace. We think people can fill the emptiness in our hearts, but when we run into their arms, we find temporary peace and memories to use as stories later. I felt that my previous lovers were my problems until I realized that the majority of the time, I felt something good. It was never enough because of my high expectations of people, we tend to see beyond, and we overthink things. I wanted to pass through the whole situation and forget that something traumatizing happened. Still, I discovered later that the reason why I couldn’t heal was that I couldn’t expect to heal by putting my emotions on someone instead of pointing out the problems and solving them.
I became a drug addict and an obsessed smoker. I quit my job in 2019 because I couldn’t handle the situation I was in. I had gotten into a very serious state of depression where only drugs could ease the pain. I couldn’t pay my rent, and I couldn’t eat well. I exhausted my savings on drugs, and was helpless at the end of the day. I needed help because I wanted to go back to my everyday life, but at this stage, everyone left me. My aunt and uncle warned me not to come to their home because they felt I would be a bad influence on their kids. I had no one to turn to, I was abandoned and neglected. Even the people I thought could see things from a different perspective and help me thought I was crazy, I was so angry and sad. I planned to commit suicide by the end of the week if no help came. There was a woman who lived opposite my apartment, she noticed I had grown lean, and I stopped going out for days. She had lost her son to drugs so she was concerned about me.
I found it very strange that Mrs. Perkins would drop food on my doorstep and a note requesting to see me every time, but I ignored the notes. December was lonely for me, so I had no other choice but to accept her request and visit her home. She made me excellent meals and spoke to me in a very understanding tone that no one had used since my parents passed away. I opened up to Mrs. Perkins about my fears, and she booked therapy sessions for me and also introduced me to Jesus Christ. We would often go together to see the therapist, and she made sure I was progressing.
After a series of sessions, I healed completely, and I got a job due to the help of Mrs. Perkins. I now live as her adopted son. Although she passed away last year, she has been the most significant form of support I’ve ever had. She was my source of help in situations where I thought I could no longer do life. Even though she’s resting with Jesus, I’ll continue telling people that Mrs. Perkins was the mother I lost and the father I ended up making proud. I hope my story helps someone who feels alone and as if no one cares. I know it feels as if the whole world is sitting on your head, and you feel you can no longer handle the trauma, but be strong and hold on. God is sending someone to help you heal.