Just because your nose runs, your eyes water and you can't stop coughing doesn't mean you have a cold. What if modern medicine declared tomorrow that the common cold doesn't exist? What if your doctor informs you at your next appointment that it has all been our collective imagination?
Well, if you're at all like me, the first thing you're gonna do is to buy up the NyQuil to hoard before they take it off the shelves.
Why have I just discovered the term, empath?
My immediate reaction was, "Great googly moogly, my madness has a name!"
It was the same feeling that I can recall so vividly when I saw the term, obsessive compulsive disorder, in Time. It must have been 1972 or '73. So it turns out my pal, Harry, is officially crazy. His condition has a name. It's not even a particularly exclusive club. Dang!
Now I stumble across this term, empath, and I feel like I have found my people. My tribe. Empaths, I read, tune into others' energy. They are sensitive to the emotions and energy of people around them. Empaths are basically spiritual sponges.
Of course it's all too good to be true. Real mental health professionals rank empaths with phrenologists, mentalists, mind readers.
So, I'm a quack? A charlatan? A phony?
This is not an association that I was seeking. Really.
Well, maybe the term isn't real. Maybe it's all hocus pocus. That doesn't change who I am, what I am. They can argue about the validity of the name forever. I still feel your pain.
Bill Clinton, by the way, is not in the club. Not by a long shot.
I'm not going to bore you with the details. Google it.
I am one. I exist.