16. Love

Love

What is love? Do I know what love is?

Love is not automatic with birth. How do I know my parents loved me, if they never said the words?

Does love require words?

If my lover says, “I love you,” can I believe him?

Why do I believe him?

Is love a feeling or an action?

Love is comfort, love is warmth, love is reliability.

Love is responsible, love is caring.

If I don’t put you first, even before myself,

does that mean I don’t love you?

How much sacrifice is needed to be called love?

Love is wanting the best for the other person.

Love is not competing with the other person.

Love is sharing honestly.

Love is missing you when you are gone.

Love is knowing you will return,

“ ’til death do us part.”

Love may be romantic, but

love doesn’t require romance.

Romance is Hallmark cards.

Romance masquerades as love.

Is lust love?

Can lust lead to love?

See above,

Love is responsible, love is caring.

Love is sharing honestly.

Love is actions as well as feelings.

15. Hesitant

Hesitant

I have been hesitant to write this, as I have hesitated to write all of these emotions posts. I don’t know what to write. I’m not sure what to write. I don’t trust the words to say what I want. I don’t know what I want to say. I don’t have time right now to write. There’s always something more pressing to do or more fun to do. There’s always something more important than what I have to say. I can’t decide whether to write or do something else. I can’t decide what I want to say. Hesitation leads to inaction.

14. Capable

 Capable

            Feeling capable is not necessarily the same as being capable. I often don’t feel capable, that is, I don’t feel able to do something I know I can do. It feels too hard, or something has to be done first and I don’t feel ready to do that first step, or I can’t decide whether to do this thing or something else instead. Deciding between two or three or more choices feels too complicated. I can imagine being capable of doing something, but not actually able to do it. I chicken out. I imagine doing it, and imagining feels the same as if I’ve already done it. I forget that I’ve only thought about doing it, but haven’t really done it.

            I have been capable in the past. I have been able to multitask very successfully. But only in retrospect have I felt capable, when the doing has been done.

 

13. Disappointed

Disappointed

I’m disappointed when something doesn’t work out. I’m disappointed not to get something I yearned for, that I felt I deserved. I’m disappointed when you say “no” when I expected “yes.”

            Disappointment has a sour taste. Disappointment wanted so much more and got so much less. Disappointment sinks to the bottom and stays there, for a long time. A longer time. The longest time. Disappointment makes me feel small, worth little, without value. Disappointment fades into the background.

            A school friend once said, “Don’t expect anything, so you’ll never be disappointed.” No anticipation? No dreams for the future, even if the future is just tomorrow night? Disappointment anticipates more disappointment. Disappointment’s future is more disappointment.

12. Daring

 Daring

Is daring a feeling? Can I be daring without being aware of feeling daring? I have done things in the past that, looking back, were daring, but at the time seemed the only thing I could do. Dropping out of Antioch College in a city I’d only been in for a few weeks for my co-op job period, for instance. At the time, I felt unsure of everything in my life, and I knew that when I returned to school, I was expected to make a “five-year plan,” essentially choose my major and make sure all the courses I’d need would be available on the schedule I’d be on campus and not off on my co-op jobs. But I had no idea what that major would be. I’d taken courses in English, history, philosophy, and none of them had awakened any desire to continue those fields. When on my current co-op job I’d met a woman my age who was looking for a roommate after being kicked out of her college, I jumped at the chance to just stay here in Washington, D.C., and try to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I didn’t think I was being daring, and my parents thought I was being foolish.

            Many years later, did I do another daring thing when I asked not to be evaluated for tenure at New York University’s journalism department? It’s true I might well have been rejected—I hadn’t published much. But I had a book proposal that a university press had expressed some interest in. Instead, I was attending meetings in 1990 about organizing a meeting for women activists in the newly non-Communist countries of eastern Europe. The next spring, when I should have been working on “unpacking” the thoughts from my recent master’s thesis for the book I would need for tenure, I was headed for a weeklong gathering in Dubrovnik, just a few weeks before war broke out in Yugoslavia. It seemed to me that 1990 and 1991 were a world-historical moment, and how could I miss being part of that moment? The 75 women in Dubrovnik founded the Network of East-West Women, and I worked for NEWW for some years, helping to get create its online presence in the early days of the internet as a mass medium. But when I left for that meeting in  Yugoslavia, I had no idea what would happen in the future, only that I might continue teaching at NYU as an adjunct. Daring? I guess so.

11. Anguish

 

Anguish

Sadness coupled with desperation. A seering emotional pain. I may fall into anguish at any moment thinking about the possibilities that could befall us—the country, the world—with Trump as president. I feel anguish when there is nothing to help get us out of the turmoil we are in or will be in soon. Anguish hurts. It’s hard to find a salve for anguish. Even action may not help if it doesn't produce a positive result. The fear of no result feeds anguish.

10. Fortunate

Fortunate

Something turns out well. It’s a good thing. I feel happy or satisfied about it. The sun is shining internally if not outwardly. Something fortunate can be due to hard work being rewarded, or to luck—and it often feels more dependent on luck or accident. It can feel fortunate to know someone who can help me with a problem, help me get out of a bad spot, help me find a job or a new place to live. Maybe I’ll be cranky if that person I’m fortunate to know doesn’t help, or can’t help.  

9. Cranky

Cranky

Irritation made verbal. Snapping at someone who pushes my buttons out of proportion to what they’ve said. Maybe I’m cranky for no good reason, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep or I fell out of bed in the middle of the night or I put on my sweater inside out. Crankiness has a tinge of arbitrariness, of the trivial. I have to justify my crankiness by claiming I’m cranky because of something serious.

8. Apprehensive

Apprehensive

Apprehension is fear about what will come. I am apprehensive about the future of the country and the world. I don’t know what will happen, and I have no control over what the government will try to do, though I can protest and engage in activism against what I think is wrong. But waiting to learn what actions I will have to protest leads to apprehension as I fear the worst. Apprehension lurks in the background, feeding bad dreams. Apprehension tightens in the neck.

7. Self-conscious

Self-conscious

(At the beginning of November, I selected one word for each of the first ten days of the month for NaNoWriMo. I did not think about what day each date was. I did not write this on Day 7. I didn’t write it until Day 11. I will try to catch up over the next few days.)

            Are people Looking at me? What do they think of me? Why do they think that? What can I do to change what they think of me? Can I do anything? Do they think I’m ugly? Do they think I’m a snob? Do they think I smell? Do they think I’m a know-it-all? Why don’t I have any friends? Would I have friends if I didn’t wear glasses? When I give my speech I add tomorrow, will I fart? Will my Kotex pad leak? Will I lose my voice, or start coughing because my throat is too dry?

            Or can being self-conscious ever be positive? Can I be conscious of myself as a positive force for others? Am I being self-conscious when I think of linking people together? Why does self-consciousness always seem to be a fear of what others think or see in me? Wouldn’t that be “other-consciousness”?

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It’s NaNoWriMo Day 7. I will be writing about feelings, because that is what I have the hardest time articulating. One feeling a day.

 

6. Sorrow

Sorrow

(At the beginning of November, I selected one word for each of the first ten days of the month for NaNoWriMo. I did not think about what day each date was, I did not consider that day 6 of November was the day after Election Day. So the fact that sorrow” is the word for the day after Election Day? What did my unconscious know that my consciousness didn’t? Was some MAGA-Trump mind sending out signals? Or was this just the sort of coincidence that mathematicians say happens all the time? I’ll go with the latter. Just to add, I did not write this on Day 6. I didn’t write it until Day 11. I will try to catch up over the next few days.)

            Sorrow and depression have much in common. A feeling of hopelessness. Wanting to cry, often. Feeling something is gone that shouldn’t be gone. Crying, again. Some people wail and sob aloud, beat their breast, rend their clothes—some religions even include these actions in their mourning rituals. Others curl into themselves, close up, don’t speak, shut the door. There is no right or wrong way to be sad. It is okay to be sad. There can be reasons to feel sad, and no one can say when sorrow is over. Sometimes it never is.

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It’s NaNoWriMo Day 6. I will be writing about feelings, because that is what I have the hardest time articulating. One feeling a day.

 

5. Regret

Regret

(At the beginning of November, I selected one word for each of the first ten days of the month for NaNoWriMo. I did not think about what day each date was, I did not consider that day 5 of November was Election Day. So the fact that “regret” is the word for Election Day? What did my unconscious know that my consciousness didn’t? Was some MAGA-Trump mind sending out signals? Or was this just the sort of coincidence that mathematicians say happens all the time? I’ll go with the latter. Just to add, I did not write this on Day 5. I didn’t write it until Day 11. I will try to catch up over the next few days.)

            Regret replays actions, or more often inactions, hoping in vain for a different result. Regret saps strength, it keeps me awake at night. It keeps the focus on the past, what wasn’t done, what should have been done, what should have been done differently. It distracts from the future, what can still be done.

            Why didn’t I say that? Why did I say this? Should I have gone to Pennsylvania to canvas voters? Should I have written more postcards? How many more of us should have canvassed, sent postcards, made phone calls? Would all of us have made the difference?

            But it didn’t happen. We didn’t do the things we now regret not having done. What if we had done them and he still had won? I would not have felt regret then, I would have felt more entitled to feel anger at the people who didn’t vote.

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It’s NaNoWriMo Day 5. I will be writing about feelings, because that is what I have the hardest time articulating. One feeling a day.

3. Aggravated

Aggravated

            Was I merely aggravated when the laundry card didn’t work in one machine this evening? Or was I angry? What’s the difference? I yelled after the card gave me an error message when it worked in two other machines; I yelled, “Fuck!” That feels more like anger than aggravation. Aggravation is irritable, stronger than frustration, not as strong as anger. Anger is fire red; aggravation is a sickly maroon; frustration is a brownish green. Aggravation gnaws, it lingers, itching intermittently in hard to reach places. Aggravation kvetches, it complains in low tones repeatedly. Aggravation wants you to know there’s something wrong, you’d better fix it or else. 

It’s NaNoWriMo Day 3. I will be writing about feelings, because that is what I have the hardest time articulating. One feeling a day. 

 

Calm

It’s NaNoWriMo Day 1. I will be writing about feelings, because that is what I have the hardest time articulating. One feeling a day.

 

Calm

            A coworker once told me that I always seemed so calm, even though I had an extremely stressful job. I was perplexed. I did not feel at all calm. I often cried in the shower before I went to work. Why didn’t that show, in my demeanor, in my behavior?

            What is calm? Quietness. A sunny day. A smile or a facial expression that looks attentive. A low voice, not shouting. Relaxed limbs, hands folded loosely in the lap. Questions rather than commands.

            Is this how I appeared to my coworker? Did I intend to project this image? How I looked on the outside did not match what I felt on the inside. But I wasn’t always sure what to name how I felt.