Archives for the month of: September, 2024
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Shards Scattered Everywhere

September 7, 2024 //
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Well, damn. That’s more than a little embarrassing…

Yesterday was quite a lovely day. I mean, it was definitely tending to be so, and I was relaxed and enjoying the day. Work was busy, complicated, and still quite fun. The day ended well, and I just had one errand to run to finish the week and call it the weekend. Easy. Routine.

… Right?.. Right?!..

It’s pretty easy to forget, when things are going well, that I do legitimately have some… “issues”. I start feeling as if I’m “past all that”. Feeling like my chaos is neatly tidied up, the damage repaired. “Nothing to see here.” It’s a pleasantly comfortable feeling, complacency, isn’t it? Which makes it all suck so much worse when shit goes sideways in some horrifically catastrophic feeling way that scatters shards of lingering trauma, broken bits of emotional baggage, and the wreckage of good intentions everywhere. It’s pretty horrible. The emotional damage done to loved ones dealing with it is embarrassing, inexcusable, and inflicts further trauma. It’s hard to make an adequate apology, making amends is even more difficult, and the fucking embarrassment, g’damn. The shame is a heavy burden to bear, and it can be complicated to prevent that from flaring up later as still more emotional bullshit. Fuuuuuuck.

So human.

Yesterday? Yesterday went sideways over a fucking product return. Yep. That was enough to push me entirely over the edge in actual seconds, and I may never truly understand why, let alone ever be able to explain it. It was bad. I lost my temper, my grip on reality, my ability to manage my emotions or even communicate clearly at all. My Traveling Partner was trying to help, but was immediately triggered, himself by my batshit-crazy bullshit, and wholly disadvantaged by also being medicated in a way that limited his ability to manage his own emotions or to support mine. It was (emotionally) messy. Ugly. Unpleasant. And it was over a fucking package. Over a moment of confusion and doubt regarding whether I understood which specific package it was and what return code belonged to it. Fucking stupid shit. Un-fucking-believable and a completely inexcusable overreaction to the circumstances.

No, apologies aren’t always adequate, which sucks. I still apologize. I’m still sincerely contrite and regretful. The damage is done and it may take time to rebuild a sense of emotional safety and trust. The whole messy business amounts to a powerful reminder regarding complacency. A reminder that mental illness is a real thing and the practices I practice to keep my shit together and foster mental and emotional wellness are not “a cure”. I still very much have to remain alert and self-aware.

…Well, shit…

I feel bad for the Anxious Adventurer. I wanted to set clearer expectations about my mental health and what challenges living in my home could present. My Traveling Partner shut that down, at the time. (I never asked why and don’t know.) What a shitty experience all around.

Here’s the thing though…

Waiting for the sun.

… Today is a new day. I can (and will) begin again. Yes, flare ups of mental illness suck. They’re scary and embarrassing. It’s horrible to understand how I have hurt those dear to me (and it doesn’t lessen the pain or the damage done that I’m talking about emotional violence not physical violence). I’ve still got to acknowledge the circumstances honestly. Reflect on things with calm self-awareness after the fact. Restore lost order. Make apologies and amends – and also move on and let it go.

Begin again.

It’s a new day. New challenges. New opportunities. A fresh set of moments, choices, and experiences. The day begins well, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for the sun. I started a new medication yesterday, intended to ease my occipital neuralgia and possibly reduce the pain of my cervicogenic headache. Will it be effective? Don’t know yet, but so far I am tolerating well, and it seems to have a pleasantly calming effect without knocking me out. In spite of numerous interruptions to my sleep last night, I slept well and deeply. The day begins well.

…I wonder where this path leads..?

Daybreak brings a new beginning.

Scattered plump raindrops greet me as I step onto the trail. I grab my rain poncho “just in case”. The trail stretches ahead, familiar, but also unknown; each new day is different.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to get to it. We’ve each got to walk our own mile. The trail isn’t always smooth, but the choices (and consequences) are my own. When I stumble, I know I can begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Practicing Gratitude

September 6, 2024 //
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It’s a new morning. A new day is beginning. There will be new opportunities ahead and new moments to enjoy. Yes, I’ve got this headache and my tinnitus is shrieking in my ears, but… I’m also grateful. I’ve got this new day.

Breathe, exhale, relax.

It’s a work day. I’m grateful for the job I have and the colleagues working with me. I’m grateful for every payday, and my Traveling Partner’s support of my professional endeavors.

It’s a Friday. I’m grateful to see the weekend arrive, feeling inspired and having made a firm commitment to myself to spend some time painting this weekend. I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner, who supports and appreciates my creative side.

I’m grateful that I have an appointment planned with my chiropractor this weekend for some myofascial release work that reliably gives me some real relief from this headache, however temporarily.

The bills are paid, the pantry is stocked, and the housekeeping is mostly pretty caught up. I’m grateful to have been able to sustain the energy to get shit done over days, weeks, and months that my Traveling Partner has been dealing with his injury. I’m grateful for how hard my partner works to stay pleasant and level-headed, in spite of pain and discomfort, depression and inconvenience, and dealing with his injury ceaselessly. My gratitude for his persistence and endurance are hard to overstate and I count on him more than is fair under the circumstances.

I’m grateful for my steadfast friendships. However far away, and however long it has been since we’ve seen each other, I’ve got some amazing friends, and I am so fortunate to know some truly lovely good hearted people.

I’m grateful for the love between my Traveling Partner and I. I’m grateful to love and to be loved. I’m grateful for the love I have learned to show myself. I’m grateful that love exists in the world at all – it’s a special thing. I am grateful for every chance to be more loving.

I’m grateful for this sunrise. I’m grateful for modern conveniences like running water, electricity, and internet connectivity, and this car that gets me where I want to go. I’m grateful for clean clothes to wear and sturdy boots that let me walk so many miles. I’m grateful to be able to walk. Yes, I am sometimes stressed that I may be losing my hearing, but I am also grateful to have it, now. I focus on the gratitude… and the now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I put my focus on the positives, and all the many reasons I have to be truly grateful. It’s not that there’s nothing to be irked by, disappointed over, or dissatisfied with, it’s more that those feelings and experiences are by far the lesser portion of my experience, generally, and if I am willing to take a moment for gratitude I see that so clearly. So, this morning I do.

The morning is pleasant and mild. It’s a good one to walk with my thoughts. It’s a good morning for gratitude. It’s a good morning to begin again… I’m grateful to have the chance.

Every sunrise is a new beginning.
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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Something Like Silence

September 5, 2024 //
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I arrived at the trailhead before daybreak. It’s still quite dark. The season is changing. Yesterday morning felt very much like autumn as I waited for the sun. This morning it feels like a midsummer morning, warm-ish, humid, and still. The morning is almost silent, aside from the chorus of peeping frogs and chirping insects down in the meadow grass, or away along the riverbank. I hear a rooster crow some distance away; it’s farm country on the other side of the river. (This side, too, and all around this county, taking into account the many vineyards, actually.) I sit with my thoughts and wait for the sun.

Yesterday was a good day, a lot got done. Funny thing about getting shit done though… there’s somehow nearly always something more to do. That’s true today. I’ve got quite a few things on my list, and work and caregiving besides. Some days it feels like a heavy burden, other days not so much. This morning I feel a bit tired, and I am enduring an amount of physical pain that may become difficult to manage as the day wears on. Life. Struggle (and pain) is part of the human experience. It’s not so bad… I need to wrap up the last details of yesterday’s project, which involves washing all my cherished breakables before placing them back on shelves. I need to do some returns. (I sit for a moment thinking about how much “shopping” has changed with the rise of e-commerce.) That’s really it, for “the big stuff”, and from this vantage point it doesn’t seem all that big. lol Perspective.

It’s still quite dark. Daybreak comes some time after 06:00 a.m. these days and sunrise after 06:30 a.m. The workers employed on the construction site adjacent to this first stretch of the trail are starting to arrive. I change my shoes for my boots. It won’t be long now… An owl silently swoops low, passing over the car, seeming huge and menacing overhead, before dipping lower still and disappearing into the meadow grass. I wonder what she found there?

Daybreak soon, and a new day ahead.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take my morning meds a minute before my reminder goes off, feeling pleased by my timing and memory, and happy to silence the alarm without having to hear it. My tinnitus is loud lately, so loud. More than a mild distraction these days, and sometimes enough to drive me to tears of aggravation and annoyance. Inescapable. Ceaseless. Irritating. I focus on the distant rooster, the nearby traffic, the sound of my own breathing – any distraction from the tinnitus is welcome and helpful, however briefly.

I probably bitch about aging and wellness-related crap more than is necessary or in any way interesting. In part, it’s simply that this is my lived experience, and that’s what I write about. There’s also an element of wanting to handle such things differently than my elders did; a lot of this shit frankly came as a huge fucking surprise to me when “my turn” came to experience it, and I resented the fuck out of not having some idea what I might be facing (sometimes still do). A “culture of silence” or secrecy, or even well-intentioned excessive discretion only serves to leave us all ignorant of the realities of aging, and ill-equipped to improve the state of things for ourselves or anyone else. So. I talk about it.

The sky begins to lighten. The clear starry night begins to fade, revealing a gray hazy morning. Feels like it may be quite a hot day today…

Another day, another chance to begin again.

Daybreak arrives. It’s enough light to see the trail. I’m eager to get to my feet and get going. I feel a certain sense of satisfaction and contentment and… fitness; I’ve lost about 25 lbs since I started on the Ozempic back in April. I don’t say much about it day-to-day, but it’s certainly a piece of the puzzle these days. Losing some weight takes some pressure off my reconstructed spine and my wrecked ankle. The walking is easier because of it. The easier walking has me enjoying it more, which encourages me to do more of it, going farther at a faster pace. I can’t turn the clock back, but these seem like worthy results nonetheless. I keep at it. Improving my nutrition. Getting better rest. Undertaking more exercise. Practicing my practices. Walking on. My results vary, and for now they’re mostly pretty good. I enjoy that and hope to enjoy it all the way to my weight and fitness goals. It’s not about perfection or mastery. It’s a journey, and the journey is the destination.

I glance at the sky, in the direction of the rising sun. It’s a new day. Definitely time to begin again.

Walking my own mile. Where does this path lead?
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Taking a Moment

September 4, 2024 //
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It’s a quiet start to the day. The morning air feels subtly autumnal. I find myself regretting that I didn’t wear my fleece hoodie. The walking warms me up though.

One perspective on the morning.

There’s a low mist clinging to the ground along the river when I begin my walk. It drifts over the meadow adjacent to the trail, becoming a thin fog. It’s very quiet this morning. I don’t hear any birds, or traffic, only my footsteps and my breathing.

It is a routine work day, possibly a busy one. There is a project to be done, later, and later still an evening meal to prepare. I sigh quietly as I walk. The to-do list is long. Having the Anxious Adventurer in the household lifts a measure of the everyday housekeeping burden, but greatly increases the “mental workload” and emotional labor landing on me day after day, on top of the increases associated with caregiving for my Traveling Partner. I’m less physically exhausted than I had been…but… I often find myself very much “over” dealing with people at all, far sooner than I typically might. It’s a struggle to get enough time alone, unbothered by what everyone else needs moment to moment, and undistracted by pings, questions, or requests for my thoughts on the various topics. I often end up feeling like a bitch just trying to get a moment alone with my thoughts.

… I’m grateful for this solitary time in the mornings (and I am pretty certain it’s keeping me sane).

I turn the last bend on the trail and sit down for a moment to think and to write. “This too will pass,” I remind myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin again… I head down the trail towards the car, and the beginning of the work day.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Savoring Each Moment of Joy

September 3, 2024 //
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Here it is, a Tuesday. First day back to work after a long weekend that actually felt long. It was a delightful weekend in the company of my Traveling Partner. Evenings shared with the Anxious Adventurer, too, after his work days were done. It was pretty nice all around. It is satisfying to see my partner continuing to improve and recover after surgery (though he is less satisfied, because progress feels so slow).

A new day begins now.

I am starting the day with that “song in my heart” feeling. It’s quite wonderful. I made a point to set things up for my partner at home to make his morning easy, and slipped away into the pre-dawn darkness. The Anxious Adventurer has an early start at work this morning, and has been making great progress with being quiet and considerate in the mornings. I’m hopeful that my Traveling Partner will be able to sleep in and get more of the rest he needs. He’ll have a quiet house for a few hours.

As soon as there is enough daylight, I hit the trail and get a short walk in. Short this morning because I’ve got work and getting an early start gets me home earlier…

…An early ping from my Traveling Partner upends my careful planning. He woke, and can’t find his glasses. Recent experience suggests they may have fallen into a gap between the mattress and headboard, and if so he won’t be able to see or reach them. He asks for my help and if course I don’t mind working from home; I prefer it. I assure him I’m on my way and head back up the trail to the car.

… It’s time to begin again. Change is.

No, seriously – change is a thing. Reliably.

Later…

I’m at the office. Funny story… well, not really, but for context; my Traveling Partner found his glasses. He’d knocked them to the floor, but they were within reach once he spotted them. Difficult, but not (apparently) completely outside the realm of possibility… because he got it done. He alerted me. We chatted awhile, and I resumed my plan for the day with minimal delay. Hilariously, I still feel “more than connected” with him, presently. I feel alert for his outreach, sensitive to the idea he may yet need me, and I’ve got a persistent sensation of having “half an eye on my phone” for incoming messages. My full (very – it’s a Tuesday) meeting calendar today limits the ease with which I could promptly return home (following an almost hour-long commute), but I settled my nerves by alerting my work team of the potential, and then I just… let it go. It’s fine. Routine. Human.

…Fuck I love my Traveling Partner so deeply and so enduringly that even my lingering hang ups and baggage regarding time and timing are nothing compared to my love, and my willingness to come to his aid on a moment’s notice.

Change is. The journey is the destination. There’s no point getting overly invested in the details of a plan, or in expectations or assumptions about how things may go or what the future holds. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Roll with it. Practice non-attachment and practice not taking shit personally, and life becomes so much less prone to OPD (Other People’s Drama) and disappointment. Go ahead – be daring – just be.

Isn’t right now a fine time to begin again?

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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