scarlett o hara, gone with the wind, angry, annoyed, bitter

I’ve decided to be bitter

I’ve decided to be bitter. This is not a fashionable choice. The ‘It never happens for me’ vibe. Or the ‘I’m not going to bother with hope – it only leads to pain’ approach. Not fashionable at all. But, I theorise, deciding to be bitter – for a time – might inure me against the insidious creep of resentment and cynicism. I am changing tack – not more Mrs Positive Guy – because I need a break. I’m exhausted with all the positive thinking and visualisation and gratitude. There are things that I have desperately wanted all my life; things that the vast majority of other people seem to fall into, that are no closer for me. In fact, both history and probability would dictate that they are unlikely ever to happen for me. And that’s hard. Even with meditation, therapy, realisation that in most ways I am blessed with almost absurd good fortune, it is hard. But more than that it is wearing. I don’t feel like being a shiny person. I don’t feel like carving new neural pathways. I don’t feel like wishing everyone well and loving myself and all the universe. I feel pissed off.

And so I’m taking a swim in Lake Bitter. I’m giving in. I’m indulging. I’m giving faith the finger. I’m settling in for a Spring of discontent. And then, come Summer, I might have pressed re-set. I might say yes to that motivational workshop without wanting to kill or be killed. I might decide to go to the park and lie on the grass and stare at the sky and say thank you to the powers that be. I may once again, be intrigued by the power of positive thinking. A change, they say, is as good as a rest. Well let’s fucking hope so…

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