Tentative

I noticed something the other day while I was in the midst of a messy downward spiral. I bite my lips a lot. I don't know if I've always done it, but now that I'm aware of it, I notice that I do it all. The. Time.

When I'm thinking I bite the right side of my bottom lip. When I'm upset or worried I tend to suck the whole lip between my teeth and gently gnaw it as I contemplate, often leaving my lips quite swollen and very tender. When I'm afraid I take tiny bites and often quite hard. When I am trying not to cry I often bite down hard enough to leave a mark and occasionally the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. When I'm angry or frustrated I tend to bite my top lip because it's pretty damned hard to talk when you have your top lip in your teeth.

I have a very expressive face. I can shield it if I need to (apparently this is my ice princess face and = in cave go away, go away now... I didn't realise it was *that* obvious) but happiness, concern, fear, sadness, joy, they all flash over my face so that even if it's not beautiful I'm told that it's very interesting to watch. It's part of why people relate to me I think, because my face is welcoming.

I don't smile quickly - I have a slow blooming smile that starts at the corner of my lips and twitches up, pulling my poor swollen lips upwards and gradually reaching my eyes which crinkle up, and eventually my slightly pointed ears move up and back completing the smile. But the reservedness I have combined with the smile seems to shut me off a little. I'm not the person smiling engagingly with someone they've just met in the centre of the party, I'm more likely to be the one sucking the corner of her scarlet painted red lips off to the side. But I will notice things that others don't, and I usually use this for good.

But sometimes, I need someone to notice the extra bright filmy eyes and the swollen bottom lip and kiss it all better.

I took most of this week off to find myself again, and I'm pretty much back at Jenn. The house isn't clean enough, and I didn't finish my knitting, but I feel sane again. I feel happy. I feel in control of my thoughts and actions and I'm not waiting for someone else to lift me up again because I'm already standing with my shoulders back and my hair rippling in the breeze. I'm laughing again without that desperate undertone and I'm not withdrawing from my husband and children as I was when I broke. I'm just happy.

But if you look closely, my lips are still swollen.