Lost in translation

 Sometimes I don’t hear what is actually being said. Or forget to say what I actually mean to another human.

Feeling the Feelings

I've hesitated over starting this post. But then, I've hesitated to do anything that involves exploring how I really feel and inhabiting that honest space where I allow emotions to come along, be experienced in depth, and I'm told, eventually, run their course...  I've actually bored myself already, there's a disdainful voice telling me that no-one wants to hear this nonsense, I'm too tired to start writing about all this and I don't really feel much at this moment anyway.  And there we have it, the first line, primary care block.  Do. Not. Explore. This.  Do. Not. Feel. 

I've clocked it now because I'm paying attention, deliberately looking to identify how I feel and share it with whoever happens to read this. So I'm ploughing through that defence and carrying on - if no-one wants to hear it, they can skip over it and not read it.  STFU, critical Self. 

So it works a bit harder.  You know what you should be doing?  Cooking dinner.  Tidying up some of the mess. Ordering some storage boxes.  Answering that Email.  Exercising - get rid of that flab round the middle that's been bothering you every time you look in the mirror or fasten your jeans.  Yes, that's it, up another level - find the core exercises, wear yourself out so the chatter about fat that has just filled your head in place of daring to explore a real feeling will drown out everything else, and you can DO something about it.  It won't be enough, of course, it's never enough, but at least all that awful feelings stuff will disappear for a bit.  But that is how I got into this mess in the first place, and the only way out is through - giving those feelings space, feeling them, coming out the other side alive. I'm yet to be certain that it's possible but here we go on the leap of faith that says I've got to give it a try because what I've been doing for 25 years or more doesn't work.

So shall we talk about feelings then?  Here's one. Anger. I'm starting here because this is the one that scares me the most, and it's the one I have least idea how to express.  A few sharp-tongued passages of writing have squeezed their way out, but usually with a good dose of flowery language to make it safer, a metaphor to disconnect it from myself, and some level of artistic merit to take the bitterness out of it.  I fucking hate being angry, and I am angry a lot of the time right now.  Not even righteous anger on behalf of injustice and the general wrongness of the world (though I manage a bit of that too), but uncontrolled, resentful, wounded anger at stuff which is happening or has happened to me. I suspect a lot of my immediate anger and frustration at things like, say, my kid getting a plastic spoon out of the drawer when I've asked her not to, for no particular reason, is disproportionate.  Of course it is.  A hint of annoyance snowballs into years of fury about having been ignored and disregarded and not understood.

I'm definitely not proud of how I'm handling it.  It keeps coming out sideways, losing my cool and shouting at B for small things that have just tipped me over the edge.  Slamming doors and hitting walls when no one is looking. Occasionally talking about it, but almost never to the person involved in the situation that has made me angry.  But I guess it's a bit better than making holes in my arms or throwing up lunch.

Here's another feeling.  Sadness.  I am sad a lot of the time too.  There's a line from a daft poem about depression being anger without enthusiasm, and I guess that often is true - once the energy has gone from the anger and hurt, I'm left feeling sad.  Sad about whatever it was that triggered the anger in the first place, and usually sad about how it's affecting my relationships now.  I'm a little more comfortable with sad than anger, but it's still heavy to carry around and generally fucking exhausting. I have a random mood dip around 5-6pm every day pretty much - I am generally ready for it now - but it's when the energy and focus from the day is quietened down, and I am tired, and there is no defence against feeling sad and generally lonely.

And then there's fear.  Fear is the undercurrent of everything.  Fear hums in the background all the time.  ALL the time. Even when I'm feeling good, and happy, I'm afraid.  Afraid that it will end, afraid of the emptiness afterwards, afraid that I shouldn't be feeling happy, afraid that whatever it is that's making me happy is wrong or imaginary or about to disappear.  Prepare for the worst, always be on guard, stay awake.

I left happy until last, because I'm hoping that might make it the feeling that gets left at the end of this.  There are plenty of opportunities to be happy, and please don't think I don't get them and experience them.  In fact there are frequently moments of joy even greater than the contentment I crave.  A moment of true connection and laughter with another person.  A feeling of physical comfort as I settle into bed. A soaring sense of freedom and wonder as I run through the wide, open hills feeling in touch with both the ground and the sky. Happiness is there for sure.

And that really is all the options - there are nuances of course, I often talk about guilt, shame, frustration, self-hatred, contentment, jealousy, anxiety, cheerfulness and loads of other things - but they all fall into one of the basics above. What's the point of identifying that?  Well, if someone asks me how I feel, the answer is almost always 'I don't know'.  And I don't know because I overthink it all, try to express the subtlety of what I'm feeling, try to rationalise or control with some precise words that convey the relevance and scale of the reaction to the situation, and that is NOT what feelings are about. They are about allowing whatever is happening to happen, to come, possibly to temporarily overwhelm, and to go again.  They do that, you see.  Ebb and flow and cover and lower again.  And every single time I forget that sadness will pass and give way to some form of happiness again, anger will cool and fizzle out, leaving perhaps a little fear, or maybe there will be a mix of them all at once and they will all change ratio and move around and leave me somewhere different, whichever way I choose to experience and express them.  The only choice I shouldn't have, is to ignore them or tell myself they are not real or valid, that being the approach that I've adopted, for various reasons since forever.  I've said it before, but I will reiterate it for my own benefit.  It. Does. Not. Work. The only way out is through.