In response to my post entitled Moody, I’ve been reflecting on my own moodiness. Almost as far back as I can recall, I’ve been referred to as “moody.” Not to my face, mind you, or at least most of the time. Whenever that description bounced back at me, I’d cringe. Being moody was a negative trait, not a compliment, not in the least. Moods, in my view, were the enemy. They were black or white, up or down, good or bad. I was either happy or sad, joyous or depressed.
Through my recovery, I’ve begun to understand that moods are much more nuanced than I could comprehend. I’ve learned that each day we experience a mix of emotions that defines the general mood we occupy. Instead of denying those feelings and emotions, I face them now, let myself feel them. When I’m sad, angry, lonely, tired, disappointed, etc., I’m usually (not always) able to identify the mood specifically for what it is—not just as a bundle of negativity weighing me down.
Then I try to process that feeling by sitting with it rather than denying or stuffing it. Eventually I’m able, in most cases, to let it go. In the past, it took me days, sometimes weeks and months to go through this process. Now, it takes a few hours up to a few days, depending on its intensity. And yes, I soothe myself by trying to do something I love such as photography or simply finding a beautiful place to sit and write in my journal.
In other words, I’ve accepted my moods and somehow they’ve accepted me. As a result, I’m less moody. Go figure…
Click on link to see Moody image
©Meryl Spiegel 2012–All rights reserved–No reproduction without permission.