“I’m a ball of bitter. A bitterball.”
I sat down hard on the couch and put my head on my knees. I sighed at Scott and turned my head to give him a look that pleaded with him to say something, anything nice.
I learned how to be honest with my feelings in my very early twenties. I taught myself to be clear-eyed and self-aware. I would get frustrated and wound-up and whisper, “I think I’m angry.” I’d say it out loud to the air, to the furniture in the room so there was no confusion. Before correctly indentifying my feelings I used to pretend they weren’t there or bury them. It was a temporary fix until my feelings snaked and slithered their way free. They weren’t going to be ignored or tied down. They would do damage until I could name and tame them.
Sometimes I have to be ‘in it’ and let myself feel when I would rather jump out of my skin, jam my fingers in my ears, because, you know, feelings are known to pour out of your ears, and run, shouting, “I’m feeling things!” (This is basically what I did yesterday when I drove for an hour and a half to Anthropologie in search of distraction and cute tops. I came home with cute tops and my problems totally disappeared still intact.) I need to slow down and be with myself. I heed the warnings about navel-gazing and preening our emotions. I know there’s a fine line between self-aware and self-absorbed. If I don’t spend some time being quiet and figure out what’s bugging me I become paralyzed. I’m after perspective. To know enough to say, enough! I need to do something for someone else or spend time hanging on my kids’ words or go for a walk because I need to be alone. It’s about understanding what’s going on so I can move forward.
So, I know I’m a bitterball, a ball of bitter. The kind of bitter where I look like Pig-Pen and his cloud of dust that travels with him. These days I’m part fine and part insecure and the bitter comes from the insecure. I’m grumpy and mope-y. I’m the clichéd spinning my wheels with nowhere to go. I have a bad taste in my mouth and to remedy it I’m going to make homemade mac-n-cheese, watch a movie that makes me laugh or cry (I haven’t decided yet), uncurl and start over.
They’re a Canadian company and for every pair of shoes you purchase they donate a pair to someone in need. And they’re ridiculously cute and comfortable!