I fiercely protect my energy — and let me tell you why. For most of my life, I’ve been the type of person people could count on. A good person. Someone who would show up, give, listen, and hold space. But when you’re wired like that, people often mistake it for weakness. Instead of honoring it, they take advantage. They lean on it. They drain it. I call them time bandits, energy thieves, and soul snatchers — people who see your kindness as an open door to take, take, and take some more. And when you don’t have boundaries, they will absolutely drain you. And for me, being an empath only intensified that experience. I feel things deeply. I absorb the emotions, chaos, and energy of the people around me. At first, I didn’t even realize it wasn’t mine. I carried other people’s burdens like they were my own. And when it got too heavy, when the overload became unbearable, I didn’t have tools to release it. So I numbed. I distracted myself. I tried to bury it. But here’s the truth: a lo...
.jpeg)
I fiercely protect my energy — and let me tell you why.
For most of my life, I’ve been the type of person people could count on. A good person. Someone who would show up, give, listen, and hold space. But when you’re wired like that, people often mistake it for weakness. Instead of honoring it, they take advantage. They lean on it. They drain it.
I call them time bandits, energy thieves, and soul snatchers — people who see your kindness as an open door to take, take, and take some more. And when you don’t have boundaries, they will absolutely drain you.
And for me, being an empath only intensified that experience. I feel things deeply. I absorb the emotions, chaos, and energy of the people around me. At first, I didn’t even realize it wasn’t mine. I carried other people’s burdens like they were my own. And when it got too heavy, when the overload became unbearable, I didn’t have tools to release it. So I numbed. I distracted myself. I tried to bury it.
But here’s the truth: a lot of what I was carrying was never mine to begin with.
Over time, I started to understand something deeper — not just about empathy, but about energy, trauma, and survival. Because after surviving a major accident and living with ongoing physical limitations, my energy is not just emotional anymore. It’s physical. It’s neurological. It’s finite. Healing takes energy. Movement takes energy. Even basic daily function takes energy.
So I’ve had to learn something I never fully had to learn before: I have to save my energy for my own healing first.
This is why I protect my energy now. Fiercely.
It’s why I set clear boundaries in both my personal life and my work. And it’s also why I’ve had to learn something uncomfortable: not everyone who is “helping” is actually aligned with what I need to heal.
For example, I currently have two people in my life in supportive roles — one is a friend I had approved through IHSS, and one is a caregiver through IHSS. And I’ve had to learn, in real time, how exhausting it can be to manage people while you are actively recovering.
One is unreliable and inconsistent. The other is chronically late, despite repeatedly saying they’re working on it. And I hear the intention. I understand that. But consistency is a different language than intention.
When someone is late every single day, it doesn’t just affect scheduling — it disrupts healing. It creates stress in my nervous system. It takes energy I don’t have to spare. And I’ve learned that trying to manage, correct, or emotionally carry that pattern is more draining than the behavior itself.
My other caregiver also tends to come and go on her own schedule, often arriving after 5:30 pm, doing only the tasks she prefers while avoiding the ones I actually need support with. And I’ve said it clearly: I cannot sit in my wheelchair all day. I have to lie down. I have to rest my spine because I’ve had two broken vertebrae and multiple rib injuries that are still part of my lived reality. My body has limits now that require respect, not negotiation.
And the hardest part isn’t even the behavior itself — it’s learning not to internalize it. Not to escalate it. Not to turn it into more stress in my body.
Because if I react in anger or frustration, I don’t just lose energy — I create more trauma in my system. So instead, I’m learning a different kind of strength.
I’ve had to learn to accept people as they are, while also honoring what I need. That balance is not easy. It’s not passive. It’s active discernment every day. And sometimes it means lowering expectations just enough to preserve my nervous system — not because I don’t deserve better, but because my healing has to come first.
This is the part of empathy no one talks about. It’s not just about feeling deeply — it’s about learning what is yours to carry, and what will break you if you keep holding it.
And I’ll be honest: I am no longer willing to be broken by what isn’t mine.
I’ve worked hard to learn tools that help me clear, ground, and release energy that doesn’t belong to me. I’ve learned to recognize when I’m being pulled out of my body for someone else’s chaos. And I’ve learned that protecting my energy isn’t selfish — it’s medical. It’s emotional hygiene. It’s survival.
This isn’t about resentment. It’s about clarity.
I will no longer be drained. I will no longer override my body to accommodate inconsistency. I will no longer abandon my healing to manage other people’s patterns.
I am an empath, yes. But I am not here to be depleted. I am not here to absorb chaos at the cost of my recovery. I am a force of nature learning how to stay in my own body, in my own energy, and in my own healing path.
And when I fiercely protect my energy, I create space for the right kind of support — the kind that is consistent, respectful, and aligned. The kind that understands that healing is not optional, and energy is not infinite.
That’s the life I choose now. That’s the standard I live by.
And that’s why I fiercely protect my energy.
How to Protect Your Energy
Avoid people who take advantage of you.
Keep your home energetically clean.
Notice where your body contracts and listen.
Set energetic boundaries.
Take breaks from news, noise, and notifications.
Bathe in water or sound to clear residual energy.
Let go of the need to be understood by everyone.
Breathe deeply before reacting.
Disconnect from places that leave you drained.
Get outside for sunlight and movement.
Choose foods that provide wholesome energy.
Prioritize rest without guilt.
Step away from exhausting conversations.
Stop justifying your intuition.
Don’t compare yourself to others.
Protect your frequency—it’s like your reputation.
Be cautious of how you share your energy.
If my story speaks to you and you want to support my recovery, you can do so through my GoFundMe.
Your support helps me continue healing and rebuilding my life.
Comments
Post a Comment