Articulation

Don't know about you, but I've been working for years on how to better articulate my emotional response.

I find it incredibly challenging, yet important to both my writing and my general well-being.

There is nothing natural about it.

Caveat: This is coming from a gal who considers her pregnancy to be the most unnatural event to ever happen to her.

Without being able to distinguish frustration, fear, disappointment, sadness, nervousness, anxiety, helplessness, etc. it just all equated to rage.

To steal a phrase from Shanna, I was a little ham of rage.

Lashing out provided a too quick fix.

Lashing out in poems proved problematic and generated unsatisfactory results.

My teacher, April Bernard, gave me an assignment. Every morning I was to write a few sentences describing how I was feeling. Only describing feelings -- no analyzing.

That sounded incredibly easy. These MFA programs, what a joke!

April instantly recognized a problem in my poems that I was oblivious.

I was an emotional cripple.

My poems were crippled.

I vaguely remember writing these and am surprised at what I was feeling back then. What I do remember is how difficult it was to do this assignment every day. I began dreading the "easy" assignment because everything I came up with was, well, pretty basic and lame. All that time I thought I was being smart in my poems by excluding feelings, but really I was just avoiding going near them because I was not equipped.

Below is an edited sample of what I was doing for my assignment

January 22, 1999

. . . I am nervous that I will fall back into my same lazy routine. I woke up at 9:40 a.m. and was disappointed in myself that it was not earlier . . .

January 23, 1999

. . . I have anxiety over money and pregnancy. I feel like X is keeping something from me and I'm supposed to know what it is.

January 28, 1999

. . . Last night I was angry because X came home from work four hours late. I was angry because I was worried about how he was and angry because he was inconsiderate. I became increasingly annoyed because he kept repeating his same dumb excuse to why he didn't call.

February 4, 1999

Today I feel fat and ugly. I suppose those aren't emotions, but signs that point to depression. But I'm not depressed, maybe just a little bit down on myself. My pants are tight. I haven't worked out in over a week because I haven't been getting up early enough.

February 8, 1999

This morning I got an e-mail from X saying how she felt bad not inviting Y to lunch with her and Z. I completely understood and I started getting angry thinking about all the times Y made a situation unpleasant. I always think about what I would say when I would confront Y with it and then I get really riled up. I hate it when I think about these things, my stomach starts to burn. . .

February 10, 1999

After beating X at Scrabble last night, I feel smarter. X can barely put together a sentence, why should he always beat me at Scrabble?!?

February 16, 1999

I'm pissed off at the customer service people at X. They didn't even read my question and instead referred me to an area that I had already be to and did not have anything remotely related to my letter . . . I hate it when people do not listen to what I am saying. It makes me feel like I don't count, but I know I count, I count more than most people do and I want to be treated that way.

February 22, 1999

I'm a little riled up right now over a discussion with X and Y. . .I get so angry at people who will constantly complain about their situation, but won't take the time for any self-evaulation. People never want to consider what it is that they're doing wrong, just what's wrong with everyone else and everything around them. It reminds me of Z. It reminds me of A. It reminds me of my failure.

March 10, 1999

I am feeling nervous and panicking about situations that I have to rely on others. Situations where I have no control. Situations I am not equipped to handle properly. The ten inches of snow we got is melting and our laundry room is flooding again. . . I keep asking X to look into it, but as usual his priorities are 100% with A.

March 18, 1999

I feel tense and angry. My stomach burns. My head lightly throbs. My lower back aches. . .

March 22, 1999

I feel sluggish. . . My feet are cold. My eyes are sticky. My breath is sour.

March 23, 1999

I feel overwhelmed. My shoulders are stiff. My lower back aches. My teeth inadvertantly grind. My jaw is permanently clenched.

March 24, 1999

I'm angry and frustrated. My teeth are clenching. There's a steady throbbing in my head. I want to yell at someone. I want to make people regret their inconsideration.

March 29, 1999

I feel disappointed with myself. I am avoiding my work. I'm avoiding my workspace. I'm avoiding working in my workspace.

April 8, 1999

I feel sad. I have no control over all the bad things that are happening to the people around me. It makes my stomach hurt. My head throbs. I feel insecure about myself.

April 12, 1999

I feel sick. My throat is pasty and clumpy, my pores are clogged. I'm stuck. My eyes are sticky, filled with goo.

April 28, 1999

I feel tired and worn, my eyelids want to close, my body wants to stretch. I want to shut out the world and live in my thoughts.

April 29, 1999

My stomach is cramped making me feel like I want to fall down and vomit. Whatever is in my stomach, I want it out.

May 10, 1999

I feel tense, my teeth feel like they're moving more crooked. My eyes are continously sticky. My muscles are tight, yet stomach and ass are flabby.

May 11, 1999

I'm angry. I want to avoid X and people in general. I want to sit in a room all by myself and not talk to anyone. If I start to talk, I'll scream.

May 24, 1999

I feel soft (weak) and overwhelmed. My body jiggles. I have no control over myself.


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Whew! I was like, crazy. I feel like I should apologize to anyone who spent any time with me in the first half of 1999.

OK, I hope someone appreciates all that cause looking back, it's pretty embarassing. No, it's extremely embarassing. I feel my face burning red and have an intense desire to cover my face.

I'm no longer a little ham of rage. For real, yo.

But articulating emotions, both in writing and in life is still something I focus on -- every day.