Netflix won't load on my TV tonight. You must be joking!! I watched 3 episodes of
Gilmore Girls last night without incident, and my wireless router hasn't moved an inch. I didn't even
breathe in its general direction. When I hit the Netflix button, I just get the infinite circle of death and no Gilmore Girls.
But I know better. This is exactly what I need. I've been to the gym; I've bitten off most of my fingernails; I've watched 2
Big Bang Theory episodes (okay, it was 3); I've eaten a few bowls of cereal and quite a lot of chips. There is nothing left to do but feel it.
See, I got my feelings hurt today and spent the moments in between "things that must be done" like work and the gym and dinner [see cereal comment above]
feeling. Feeling hurt, sad, angry. Oh, and writing speeches in my head to the perpetrator. But mostly feeling.
Netflix was the last straw. I have officially run out of things to do other than look at my part in this situation. What have I done to set myself up for this hurt & anger? I must write. It is the only way that I
ever get freedom from the anger and healing from the hurt.
I haven't been livid in a long time. I used to live resentfully all the time, angry at God for giving me
this life and at everyone else for living
their lives. How do the
do that, and make it look so easy? Turns out all my anger backfired:
I was the one that was miserable (though my ex-husband might disagree).
This cool thing happened today in the midst of all this feeling. Under all the ick was a deep joy that I am present today for my feelings (for myself?). Even bigger is that I feel them, and
behave well while I have them. I realize that many people have already mastered this skill before the age of 39, but I either missed that handout in my instruction manual for God, or I wasn't paying attention in class. I used to just spew all over everybody when I was having "a day". My life would come to a stand still, the pity party invitations were sent, and the wallowing began. And the party went on and on and on.
Today, however, all it takes is a phone call to get me out of party mode and back on track. There were no pleas for sympathy [read: self-pity] at work; there were no breakdowns in the bathroom. There was just feeling. Then there was writing. And now there will be healing.
