By Melanie Harris
I’m mean. Like a fire ant trapped between two chubby fingers, like The Fool who has at last had his leg mauled off by his furry companion, I’m spitefully, hideously, shamefully mean, and it makes me cry.
I want to be sweet and endearing, like a cuddly, loyal mutt, but I’m just not, not outwardly, anyway. I find myself lashing out at the people I love the most, criticizing my husband for nothing other than being a typical man, and getting annoyed with my children for no larger crime than being children. I never intend to be mean, but stress causes my temper to boil over, and then I act stupid and feel terrible.
What makes me so spiteful, I wonder? What makes me so mean that the blessing of being needed causes me to feel put-upon? It’s like the Ace of Swords is perpetually pressing down on me, stirring into action the latent evils of my soul.
Generally, I’m a kind and loving person. I truly want everyone to be happy, and it makes me very sad whenever I carelessly hurt someone’s feelings. I honestly don’t understand why I act so mean sometimes.
I’d like to shift the blame, and say that maybe it’s just the effect of the day-in, day-out, never-ending stress I endure as a mother and as a wife. As it’s me who is causing most of the stress, however, I can’t absolve myself that easily. Wound up on coffee, I stay high strung and on edge, and every daily demand threatens to throw my sanity overboard. I wish I could have just one day in which no one asks me for anything, but that’s a fantasy that’s far from a solution: it’s simply not going to happen, and if it ever did, I’d probably feel lost and lonely.
I don’t like being mean. I’m seriously ready to change my ways, and so I turned to the Tarot for help. Resentment was the word of the day, with an unresolved Five of Cups beneath me, and the awkward, defensive Five of Swords above me. My malice stems from my own unhappiness, projected on others so as to banish it from the self.
I had no idea I was so selfish, or so angry with myself. I always thought it was everybody else’s fault for ticking me off.
I need to face my darkest self; I need to work past the issues that keep me tethered to dissatisfaction. And most importantly, I need to think before I speak, and I need to stop acting spitefully whenever I feel the least bit wronged. Hopefully, I’m turning over a new leaf, and the next time I find myself ready to complain or criticize, I’m going to try to take the advice of the evil nursing home attendant in the movie Happy Gilmore, and instead help myself to “a warm glass of shut the H**L up”!