Archives for the month of: March, 2023
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Jigsaw Puzzle

March 7, 2023 //
1

I am sipping my coffee and waking up from a deeply restful, rare, uninterrupted night of actual sleep. I woke befuddled when the lights slowly came up (silent alarm clock). I felt disoriented, and uncertain why I was waking up…? It took me a minute to “place myself” in the context of day, date, and time.

I managed to get dressed and out the door without crashing into something or dropping something, or making a ton of noise; this surprises me. I’m grateful though – it likely means my Traveling Partner also got to sleep without being wakened by my departure.

I sat down at my desk with my coffee this morning without much thought about what to write. My thoughts were still filled with fragments of dreams, scattered about, disorganized, and fairly random seeming. I found myself beginning with those pieces… like a jigsaw puzzle. Individually they don’t amount to much, just the many details of a life being lived, you know? Assembled into a coherent whole, they begin to form a picture of this human being that I am in the context of this life, this location, and this moment in time.

…so many little details…

Like… I tried out my newest batch of shower steamers yesterday. Pleasant. Here’s a thing I noticed about both batches, though; the scent is a bit too subtle and understated (for me). I ended up doing a bit more homework trying to find something more measured and specific for the amount of fragrance needed than “X many drops“. Are they kidding with that shit? We’re grown folks here, I can take it; give it to me in fucking milliliters, please!? 0_o LOL I finally found a source with a clear measure; I was using about a third what I actually needed. Well. That explains a lot. lol

…I’m a human being still learning things. I hope I always will be…

Then there’s also my continued efforts to lose some excess weight, and regain some lost fitness. I’ve been logging my steps. Logging my meals. Logging my sleep. It’s not much effort; my wearable does a lot of it for me. There really are a lot of verbs involved nonetheless… I tend to enjoy “easy” when I can find it, though, and that sometimes results in far too little actual effort exerted than would be wise (seeing how I’d like to be fitter). I keep resetting and beginning again, and I keep making slow progress. Faster progress would be sweet to see, but the slow gains are more likely to be ones I can hold on to for the long-term. Again and again, I look my frustrations in the face and remind myself that incremental change over time can be … super slow.

…I’m a human being still trying, and still working out how to get things done…

I’m starting to feel more confident and secure in my new job. It’s good to feel more “settled in” and comfortable. Making a change of career so late in life feels a bit… awkward. Unsettling. Scary? Maybe scary, yeah. Feels good, too – more to learn, more opportunities to grow. New skills developing. New understandings of things I hadn’t previously been exposed to. It’s pretty wonderful in some respects. I sip my coffee and smile; it felt right at the time, and it feels right, now. 😀

…I’m a human being willing to change…

Being back in therapy has been good for me. It’s given me a sort of “safety net” for dealing with deeper traumas, and for talking over shit that’s on my mind that would only serve to disrupt the harmony of my relationship to bring it up casually along the course of a day. My Traveling Partner is not (and cannot be) my therapist.

…I’m a human being willing to seek the help I need…

I remember the leftovers in the fridge from dinner last night; I’d planned to have those for lunch today. I forgot to grab that container on my way out this morning. LOL

…I’m a human being, being human…

I smile and yawn, and sip my coffee. I feel contented on a Tuesday, and filled with a certain hopefulness. Feels good. It’s a nice starting point from which to begin again. 😀

…Don’t forget to make time to appreciate the small things that make you who you are on the journey to become the person you most want to be; it’s a nice way to begin a day.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

Small Luxuries

March 6, 2023 //
2

I’m sipping my coffee and contemplating the weekend rather happily. I learned a new skill (making scented “shower steamers“, a fun DIY project for a weekend) and improved my cognitive health (so the science says) and also my quality of life.

My Traveling Partner gave me a very nice gift of shower steamers over the winter holidays. I’d never tried them before and I was completely delighted. I quickly used them up. He bought me more. I used those up pretty quickly, too. I could see where this was going, and it was going to get expensive (and potentially annoying; I could already anticipate being unable to find the scents I enjoy most when I wanted them).

Small luxuries, shower steamers rarely go for less than $1 each (and you “get what you pay for” when it comes to items that are scented, sadly) and easily as much as $8 each for fancy ones from specialty boutiques. They seem to average about $2 each online…but they’re also pretty easy to just make. I found lots of video tutorials on YouTube, and some good DIY content on various websites. I already had most of the equipment I’d need, and some of the ingredients!

My first batch – lavender.

This all sounded like a tremendous opportunity to learn something new… so… I did that. 😀 Making them at home ends up much cheaper, and I get much more freedom of selection with regard to the scents! I enjoyed the process, and learned that – like a lot of things that “look easy enough” – there’s more to be learned that often isn’t stated in a description of the process. My first batch were very irregular in size. (I later weighed the one I thought looked “the right size” and began weighing the mixture before putting it into the mold.) The potency of the fragrance wasn’t quite as strong as I’d have liked; scents vary in strength (and often by brand), and there’s a bit of testing and experimentation required to get that detail “just right”. The second batch was cucumber-melon, and turned out beautifully.

Cucumber melon shower steamers. Yum!

I guess I’m saying it was a weekend well-spent. There was so much going on! In the shop, my Traveling Partner was also learning; the resin printer he added to the shop equipment was ready to use, and he’d begun making test prints. He also printed a cute set of Barbie dishes for me (I’m looking forward to painting them)! Later, after a discussion of the shower steamers, and what I’d learned so far, I made a point of saying that while I enjoyed the manual process just fine, I was less than thrilled with the results of using the moon cake press to make them; the very fancy designs are super cute, but a bit fiddly to get them to turn out well. I mentioned that I’d be content with a clean unadorned puck of some kind, or a cube, and wondered out loud if I should be thinking about getting a “proper press” and machined molds or dies for this project? We ended up at his computer together, drinking coffee and designing a resin-printed hand press that would produce a simply round puck (wow!) and then another that would produce a cube shape (with beveled corners so it would release from the mold most easily).

…My partner regularly blows my mind with all the many things he can do…

It’s fun doing these kinds of projects with my partner. 😀

Here’s the extra cool thing about this one; the shower steamers help me “put down some baggage”. I have shower-associated trauma that makes it super difficult to want to get into a shower. When my mental health is at its worst, this can result in poor self-care and degraded hygiene, and when my mental health is well-managed, I still find myself having to “drag myself” into the shower most days, with quite a bit of reluctance. These shower steamers completely change that; I’m not just willing to shower daily… I’m enticed. I’m eager. I’m looking forward to the next shower. LOL Win.

…What scent shall I make the next batch becomes the bigger question… followed by a cascade of little ones: sourcing the best supplies for the making of shower steamers. Which fragrances are the best value? Which smell the best in the shower? Which last longest and store well? How will I store them? Display them? Make them easy to reach when it is time to hop in the shower? I smile and finish my coffee. These are all very pleasant questions.

Day breaks beyond the window. I haven’t been sleeping well, but this morning I’m not thinking much about that, and I feel merry after spending a few minutes thinking about the weekend making shower steamers and hanging out with my Traveling Partner. I didn’t get everything done I’d planned to… there’s a package yet to drop off at UPS that I forgot about, and the freshly laundered towels did not get folded and put away. lol We probably ate too much fast food. But… I was where I wanted to be (at home) hanging out with this human being who I adore (my Traveling Partner). Hard to bitch about that.

Aging is its own thing, though, and the weekend was also fraught with those challenges. I was in a lot of pain pretty much all weekend, on top of the poor sleep. My Traveling Partner was also sleeping very badly. We were cross with each other over that, and some small dumb stuff, too. I felt my years. I was moving slower, and I felt stiff. My blood pressure was a bit higher than I’d like. I’ve begun to feel as if my life is counted off in Rx pills for this-n-that, instead of minutes or hours. lol I’m not saying it’s worse than some other person’s circumstances; I don’t have it that bad. I’m just beefing about approaching 60, because from the inside of my perspective… I sure don’t feel 60, but g’damn my body sure feels every minute of those years. LOL

I sigh out loud in the quiet of this mostly empty room, and look at the time. It’s already time to begin again… 🙂

Categories Uncategorized

Sorting Shit Out

March 5, 2023 //
1

I’m awake brutally early on a Sunday morning. I’m in the co-work space I sometimes work from, drinking bad office coffee and feeling sad.

My Traveling Partner woke me abruptly, shortly after 0400, poking me and sharing his frustration by way of swearing at me. Something about my sleep (or lack of it) or breathing (or lack of it) or snoring was keeping him awake, and he’d finally had it with that, and woke me. Actually, he asked me to turn over, which is reasonable. The poke and the hostile frustrated tone woke me thoroughly. I wasn’t going to go back to sleep after that, and I was laying in the dark for a moment, contemplating maybe just getting up and what to do next, when my partner reappeared in the doorway and made a point of telling me more about his experience. The additional emotional load was too much for so early, and tears started to slide down my unprepared-for-this face.

I got up and started dressing. No way I seriously wanted to start my day this way. I also did not feel up to sticking around for more. He‘d have some chance of getting more sleep, perhaps, if I weren’t hanging about stewing over my “wake up call”. It made the choice to leave the house at that dismal hour a fairly easy one.

So, here I am. Bad coffee. Early hour. Dealing with it.

My Karma must be sooooo fucking bad… I mean, for real?

This morning this co-work space is my version of a mundane hell. I’ve got the solitude I so often crave, sure… but… there’s no potential for actual sleep, and I’m so tired (I did not sleep well last night), and the muzak in the background is pretty dreadful. Plenty of coffee – and it’s terrible. I dunno that I “deserve” this… I manage to be grateful for this place and time; it could be worse. It’s been worse, other times, other places, other relationships, and having a place to go to, when I need to walk away is a major improvement in my quality of life, generally.

Maybe that’s the lesson on this one? That there is generally an alternative to our misery, when we can accept it, or choose it, and that “grateful” is a path to a better emotional place…? Maybe there’s no lesson… just a woman, a laptop, a quiet place to write, and some sorrows?

I slept poorly last night. I’m grateful for the sleep I got.

I sit here drinking coffee and… seething quietly. I’m annoyed to be awake. I’m annoyed to be dealing with my emotions at this hour. I’m annoyed by the emotions themselves. My head aches fiercely and I’m tired. I’ve had sleep disturbances of various sorts “all my life” – or at least since I was a toddler, that I know of. I know the importance and value of good quality sleep. (I don’t actually get much of that. Don’t know how, maybe.) I do the good sleep hygiene stuff, and my sleep is the best it’s ever been – still not great. Not even reliably good. It’s not at all helpful that my Traveling Partner has gotten so comfortable with waking me up anytime he’s having trouble sleeping. I don’t know how to set a clear reasonable boundary on that; I’m often what’s woken him. He wants to sleep, too. Seems pretty fucking reasonable.

My Traveling Partner wants me to get screened for sleep apnea. Okay, sure – I’ve got an appointment to talk to my doctor about it. (I’m feeling a bit like a hamster on a wheel; I’ve done this step before.) I did a sleep study a couple years ago that resulted in… nothing much. I did not get a sleep apnea diagnosis. If I did? What would the result be? Probably a CPAP machine. I don’t expect an outcome like that to do anything much of value for my sleep (in part due to feeling “tethered” and in part due to the noise), but it’ll likely improve his. Maybe it would help – I don’t actually know. I can feel my internal resistance to the idea of it – not helpful.

…I do know I’m fucking over being awakened from what little real sleep I do get…

I’m tired and irritable, and tears start spilling over and sliding down my face. I don’t do anything to stop them, I just let them fall. Not one of my finest moments. I put my head down on the desk in front of me and sob helplessly for awhile, feeling grateful for the solitude, and the freedom to cry.

Eventually I lift my head and wipe the tears off my cheeks. I mean, for fucks sake, I’ve got a good life. This is ridiculous. I breathe, exhale, relax. Drink more coffee. I miss my partner right now. I miss my cute little house. I miss the warmth of my bed. I miss the good coffee there at home. In another couple of weeks, a stressful morning will just be the starting point for some miles on a trail, with my camera. Right now it’s still too dark for that (for me to do safely). My back is aching, and I remember that it is Sunday, and take my pain meds early. (“Maybe you won’t be such a bitch.” some inner voice remarks crossly.) My shaking hands manage to fling the contents of my pillbox all over the desk when I open it. These sorts of stressful mornings tend to make my pain perceivably worse, and my ability to manage it feels reduced. I get up and stretch, and wander the room restlessly before sitting back down to try and finish this rambling broody collection of words.

…I sometimes miss living alone. It felt easier. I’m frustrated that intimacy isn’t easier to build and maintain, however much I love my Traveling Partner. I’m willing to accept that it’s probably “mostly me”; I’m familiar with the quantity of chaos and damage I’ve got piled up, and I know my trauma history. Doesn’t make it easier to let go of wanting things to be easier. I’ve got a good therapist – I’ll just keep working at it. Eventually, maybe, I’ll be the woman I most want to be…

In the meantime, I’ve just got to begin again, again. My results vary. Sometimes it’s hard. There are verbs involved.

Tags , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, winter

Doing vs Selling

March 3, 2023 //
0

Finding a path to emotional wellness is more challenging than clickbait headlines or upbeat advertising leads us to believe. The encouragement we seek from friends, family, and therapists doesn’t making doing the work involved any less difficult, tedious, or frustrating. Progress is often the result of slow, subtle, small incremental changes over time that can be hard to celebrate, they’re just so… mundane.

It takes longer than we expect, to pull ourselves out of our worst bullshit and move on to better moments.

It takes more work than we expect to learn better self-care, better communication practices, and emotional resilience.

The work we put in often goes wholly unrecognized and unrewarded.

The slogans, homilies, and aphorisms of wellness and positivity can become toxic when forced or inauthentic, or if we just don’t feel any sense of progress or forward momentum.

Our negative self-talk can undermine our progress in therapy.

It’s just all very much a bit hard than it can appear to be through the lens of someone selling us on the idea of wellness, or on some particular treatment plan, new Rx, or catchy buzzword-laden new fad. Like it or not, there’s still quite a lot of actual real effort involved in finding our way through life to become the person we most want to be. It’s complicated.

You’re going to need to “do your own homework” on this one.

There’s no quick route to success in most things. That’s true of mental health, too. No shortcuts. No magic tricks. No cure-all easy “take one pill each day” remedy. No fancy retreat. No instant win. Mental health and emotional wellness do not exist on a fucking scratch-it. It’s not a lottery.

There are verbs involved. Your results will vary. You’ll likely get the best results on the things you are seeking to change or improve upon in your life because you want those changes and improvements. Shit that feels like an obligation or something you are doing to benefit someone else (or because you tell yourself you “have to”) won’t get reliably good results quickly – and it’s already a fairly slow process. I don’t say that to be discouraging; do you. I’m just pointing out that the things you change because you want them are easier. Relatively speaking. For some values of “easy”. It’s all very much still a lot of work.

You can not actually purchase the results you seek.

Do the work.

Seriously. If there’s somewhere in life you want to go, you aren’t going to get there standing still. That’s just real. Do something to move in that direction. Start small. Hell, stay small – small steps are still steps.

I still write about the value in practicing specific practices because a) I still find value in them and b) I’m still fucking practicing. The slow improvements of incremental change over time can seem tedious sometimes. There’s still improvement. It’s just slow – but the slow improvements have tended (for me) to mount up pretty reliably over the years (yes, years – as I said; it’s slow). It’s been worth it. Life is that much better now than it was then. I enjoy my experience of myself that much more now than I did then.

Am I free of stress and sorrow? Nope. Have I tidied up all my chaos and healed all my damage? Nope. Is life effortless and easy? Nope. I’m still 100% made of human, and it’s a very human experience. I’m just saying it’s better, and even, generally, very good. It’s been worthwhile to put in the time and effort to get here. I still went to bed last night without noticing I left the front door unlocked after taking the trash out. Human. I still sometimes say something hurtful to someone I care about. I’m still often way too hard on myself. So human.

It’s still worth the effort to improve my self-care, to learn to communicate more skillfully, to learn to slow down and be fully present, to learn to be kind and compassionate, and to heal. There are just a lot of verbs involved. Some days it’s easier to see where I’ve failed than to see how far I’ve come in such a short time. That’s just real – and also part of being so very human.

I sip my coffee contentedly. It’s a good morning to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

New Day, New Beginning

March 2, 2023 //
0

Another morning. Mostly pretty routine. I slept well – an auspicious beginning. My coffee is good. My bottle of water is cold. The gray skies hang over a fairly mild morning. My pain is well-managed. My heart “feels light”. So far, so good.

I breathe. Exhale. Sip my coffee. Listen to some tunes. Read an article about making shower steamers (which I’m eager to give a try, because they’re relatively costly for the delight they provide me, and seem easy enough to make myself, more affordably).

New day, new beginnings, right? Yesterday ended well, in spite of a relatively irksome commute home in the densest part of the evening rush. I enjoyed a lovely chill evening with my Traveling Partner. Did a couple chores. Ate fast food. Here it is already today… more new beginnings ahead. An entire new day to get things right (or wrong…). I feel the smile on my face deepen. It’s a good start to this particular day.

I lay out the workday. Figure out my plan. Look over my own “to do list” of things for home & hearth, and work those details into my plan for the day. (I thought that would be easier…)

…Almost the weekend…

Already time to begin again. 😀

Tags , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »