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So I’m Not Crazy

I have just recently learned that I am an empath, at 52 years old. My whole life I knew I was different. Time after Time, I was ridiculed for how I was different, from my family and so-called friends. I was too sensitive, a cry baby, crazy, delusional, anti-social, paranoid. So I learned how to keep it all inside, I didn’t want to be the weirdo all the time. I really thought something was wrong with me. I know almost instantly upon meeting someone, if they’re bad, that they’re up to no good. I know when someone is lying. It’s caused me so much turmoil over the years. I didn’t want to know these things, I wasn’t trying to judge anybody, or be mean to people. And I wasn’t paranoid. And I tried, but I couldn’t pretend to like people knowing they were bad or going to do something bad, especially to my family. I couldn’t turn it off. Eventually, my marriage fell apart because I embarrassed my husband by calling people out and refusing to associate with them. He would take their side, saying that I just didn’t want him to have any friends. Of course, I did, it’s not my fault the people he chose were bad, liars. I tried to look the other way, to appease him. I couldn’t do it for long though. Usually, the first chance I got alone with the power, I would make it clear that I’m on to them, I’m watching. I wanted to be wrong, but I never was. What is so sad to me is how rarely I come across someone decent.

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What else is sad is that if my husband would have trusted me, he wouldn’t be in prison now, and I wouldn’t be alone.

It’s the same with my current boss and the people he hires. I will probably lose my job soon. It appears that I’m a troublemaker, even though I’ve been right every time he hires liars and thieves. He’d save so much money if he’d just take my advice instead of trying to prove me wrong.

What’s troubling me the most is how extreme my emotions run. I don’t simply feel heartbroken, I feel so heartbroken I have chest pains, my heart is literally breaking. I have actually cried till my eyes bleed. And I feel for my husband. He did some really bad things to me before he got locked up. A normal person would be happy that he’s in prison, not helping him. Nobody understands my dilemma. I am angry and devastated by what he’s done to me, to our marriage. We won’t recover. But at the same time, I know what he’s going through, I feel what he’s feeling, the regret, fear, his sadness. Even though we’re miles apart, I feel what’s going on with him, every single day. So I do what I can to comfort him, to comfort myself. I can’t escape this, I can’t turn it off. I’ve prayed on it, I’ve even considered hypnosis. I don’t know what to do, I’m exhausted, my stomach is torn up. And everybody thinks I’m crazy. They’re not just against me helping him, they’re now actively trying to stop me from helping him. They say he needs to suffer, but they don’t understand that when he suffers, I suffer.

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What do I do, can anybody help me? Please, help me.

-By Broken Babydoll

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