Mixed feelings have odd ways of carving themselves in and out of one's life. It seems they are what make feelings so complicated, and they are what makes it so hard to be a human being. For me, moments of introspection are the only things that allow me to possibly divide them and sort them out in a way that makes sense. It seems like the feelings felt even about the most mundane things and things barely felt at all add up.
I suppose in summer I should give up my thinking a little bit. I shouldn't be feeling anything but happy feelings. But then, of course, things come up that tug at my soul a little bit and pull down the covers of the emotions that I have tried so hard to stop myself from feeling.
Mixed feelings can result from little things. When I finished another one of my novels today, I felt a feeling of both relief and of sadness at finishing something that I started. While those are a rather minor but necessary part of writing, it's still important to acknowledge it and take in all parts of what I'm feeling. If I shove my feelings down in my throat and dismiss even the tiniest of feelings, they might well up in some other way.
And then sometimes there are the more serious mixed emotions. Sometimes, these feelings come when a cover on one of the skeletons in my closet is ripped off and I have to deal with it again. These are the feelings that are so easy to ignore and deny or only partially accept. The negative inkling in the back of that happy bliss, the grimace disguised as a smile... Those are where everything comes in. Sometimes, I deny all of these feelings because I am worried about what others might think or worried that I'm not supposed to be thinking all of the things that I am thinking.
For example, there was camp that had just happened. While I had many fun social encounters and I learned a lot, there were also many times I felt like the odd girl out when I was with certain people. I might have smiled and tried to persist in how I was going, but it was true. In many ways I was different than my dormmates and while they sometimes tried to include me in the fun, I had the distinct feeling that my train of thought was unwelcome and that I was very different from everyone else there which led to a feeling of frustration at being unable to express myself. It might have been easier to speak up and ask someone, but I didn't want to acknowledge these feelings at the time. Hence, that was where my feelings of dissatisfaction and frustration lay. If I had acknowledged these negative feelings and nipped them in the bud (or accepted them, depending on their validity), then life probably would have been easier for me. The same can be said for a variety of other social situations.
Ambiguity is a part of life. It just is. As a human being, I will feel a variety of emotions throughout my life. To deny any of those is unhealthy and wrong and will probably come out in various ways later.
I am learning to accept how I feel and not to dismiss myself so easily. A part of this needs to come in accepting every part of me and just loving who I am. Only then will things possibly work out from me.
The ambiguity in life is what makes it so beautiful for me. It is those shades of gray that make things so beautifully complex.