I spent the years of my early 20s in Seattle as a raging alcoholic, feeling like I was split between two different personalities. Between the Shadow and Lo is an autobiographical novel of many of the experiences I went through during those years. The book deals with addiction, depression, extreme dysfunction, and the dark side of life.
Starting today, Between the Shadow and Lo is available in ebook ($2.99) and in paperback.
Thank you, as always, for your support my dear writer friends.
I really couldn’t have written this book without you.
I’ve been getting requests for a post specifically on INTJ writers for a while now. The only problem was that I didn’t feel at all qualified to speak on behalf of all the INTJ writers out there (as I’m such a solid feeling type myself). So I recruited my writer friend Phillip McCollum, who is an awesome blogger as well as an INTJ, to help me out on this one.
I have a really weird thing that happens to me whenever I receive a bit of emotionally disturbing news. Whether it’s something small (like someone tells me I said the wrong thing at the dinner table) or something big (like getting hit with rejection or betrayal) my system immediately goes into shut-down mode. I freeze like a panicked animal, my throat, chest and stomach lock up, and the rest of me feels totally numb.
This numb feeling can last a few minutes, or it can last a few days.
Whenever you read another article on introverts, HSPs, INFJs or INFPs, the same story always comes up. It seems that every single one of us struggled with being called “too sensitive.” I can relate because this happened to me too. But what I find missing from these articles is an in-depth explanation of what that really means.
When someone says they were called “too sensitive” by family and friends it brings to mind someone who gets teary-eyed at sad commercials or takes routine teasing too seriously. This is not what I mean at all when I say I’ve always struggled with being “too sensitive.”
Maybe I should introduce myself first and make things clear:
Hi, I’m Lauren Sapala, and I’m an empath.
I have always felt like a complete weirdo. The label of “weird” has been alternately used to express confusion from others about my behavior or hurled as a coldly vicious insult. I grew up hearing it on the playground, year after year…after year. I got called weird in first grade and as a senior in college. I literally cannot count how many times I’ve seen a person freeze their expression, look me over and then say, “You’re really weird, do you know that?”
For years I had a love/hate relationship with my weirdness. In middle school I became hyper-observant about the dress, mannerisms, language and cultural codes of eighth-grade girls. I memorized them all and tried to imitate them. It didn’t work. My weirdness leaked out. In high school I tried to camouflage myself by joining dozens of different groups—Theater, Track, Yearbook Committee, National Honor Society. It didn’t work. I still said and did things that were undeniably weird. I still got the look.