Archives for category: anger

Before I can ever answer the question “how do I get there?”, I guess it’s necessary to have some understanding of where it is I am wanting to go…

Beginning again starts… somewhere.

Yesterday was a very nice day, marred only slightly by a too-common moment of discord that seems, now, both completely unnecessary and also entirely human. I breathe, exhale, and let that go; there is no need to let it define the day.

I was on the trail this morning shortly after daybreak. I had the trail to myself. I enjoy the quiet time spent with my own thoughts. These morning walks and meditative interludes along a quiet trail are keeping me sane. Mostly. I would do well to do more, better, with regard to my self-care, and I am aware of it. I sigh and file that thought under “I’m doing the best I can” and promise myself to give it more thought another time.

Today I’ll begin the work of moving things around in the house to accommodate my Traveling Partner’s son for some little while. I’m simultaneously eager to be helpful with getting him a good start in the community here, and also saddened to be giving up my wee library (and meditation space) and having to compress my art studio to become my “everything space”. It’s the only way to comfortably make room for a third adult human being. I have no objection to making the necessary changes… I just worry a bit that they won’t be as temporary as discussed going into it, and I’m going to have to be diligent about my self-care and making a point to get the time I need away from people. It’s probably going to be a bit more difficult in some ways, but probably easier in others.

… There’s definitely a bunch of manual labor involved in these changes, and I will need to manage my time and energy with care…

I sit with my thoughts awhile, at the halfway point of my walk. I’ve got a few things on my mind and most of those center on how I can most successfully reduce my day-to-day stress, and also how to develop more resistance to being provoked into anger or anxiety. I’m not as resilient as I am able to be when I live alone, and there are a great many triggers in my environment. Adding another person to my living situation doesn’t make things easier. Once my PTSD flares up, it can be very difficult to regain perspective and emotional balance. I’d very much like to improve that situation and enjoy more lasting calm and contentment, and realistically can’t count on anyone else to “make that easy”. The verbs and practices are mine. My results vary.

… Humans are going to be human…

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, aware for a moment that there are no notifications buzzing my arm; I’m wearing a watch, instead of a connected wearable device tracking my every action and pinging me with reminders. It’s quite nice. I even remembered to take my morning medication without any of that. I smile when I recall that my Traveling Partner picked this watch with me in mind. I like it very much.

Another reminder that I am loved.

The sun is well up in the morning sky. Looks like another hot summer day ahead. My step son messages me that he’s on the way to pick up the U-haul truck for his move. Events are in motion. Change is. There’s much to do. It’s already time to begin again…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to head back up the trail.

I’m sitting next to the trail on a convenient bench, having paused on the way back to the car from my morning walk. I was up too early and started the morning vexed by interrupted sleep and my Traveling Partner’s cross tone, but otherwise it’s a lovely morning, and the sunrise was pleasant. I’m working on it getting over my shitty mood, because at this point I am still the only person being affected by it, and it’s just fucking dumb to endure this shit.

… This is already shaping up to be the sort of day where I just don’t want to see or talk to anyone. At all. Unfortunately, that’s rarely an option on a work day. I sigh out loud and prepare myself for the inevitable requirement to deal with people…

There are still flowers to enjoy along the trail.

Fuck this headache and this shitty mood. Just saying… I’ve got to begin again. Maybe more than once.

My Traveling Partner pings me and asks me to work from home after my walk. I agree, understanding that he needs help with things. I try to avoid feeling cross about it and look for opportunities to feel grateful that I can so easily be there for him.

… Just begin again, again, I tell myself…

My thoughts had started somewhere else entirely this morning, but my crappy mood, early wake up, and headache derailed my more positive musings about time and watches. I’m annoyed by that. The morning is off to a poor start in spite of the beautiful sunrise. Fuck. This. Shit. I really need a do-over, but the best I’ll get is a new beginning. Hell, that’s not a bad thing… But my results may vary. Success is not guaranteed. This is a very human experience.

… Breathe, exhale, relax…

Begin again.

Some time later (about 2 hours):

The future isn’t written. Change is. It’s important to be able to see a win when circumstances bring it, and to accept success when it is offered. Life is a peculiar journey some days, and the path is not clearly marked. It’s a bit later in the morning, and my day quickly went from “what the fuck?!” and “why do I even try??” to “what a nice day this is…”, over a short handful of minutes and an opportunity to pivot to the win when it came.

…I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner…

I got a lucky break this morning, when my Traveling Partner reached out to me as I headed back home to provide support and care-giving during the work day; he was doing better. He encouraged me to follow my original plan for the day, and asked me to run an errand on my way home, instead of working from home, after all. I could have let that additional change cause me further stress… and it would have been quite like me to do that, years ago (and considering how human I am, it’s always a risk, eh?). Instead, I allowed myself to change, then change again, and here I am. It feels like a lovely morning. There’s something to be learned from this.

…I hope I learn it…

…I begin again. Again. It’s a lovely day for it. 😀

This mortal lifetime is a fleeting and all too brief experience. We haven’t yet defeated aging or death, and we inevitably face both those experiences in turn… if we’re fortunate enough to enjoy some longevity in the first place.

I’m not meaning to sound grim, just putting a bit of self-reflection and perspective into my morning. It just seems to me that there is no time for petty bullshit, taking things personally, or chronic negativity. We’re human, though  and pettiness, bullshit, negativity, and taking things personally often seem to be default settings for human primates. It’s unfortunate. Life is filled with wonder and potential joy and delight, and when we give ourselves the opportunity to experience those qualities, they have incredible potential to lift us up.

…We become what we practice…

I often wonder what keeps some people so invested in unpleasantness and negativity, when it is possible to choose differently? I’m forced to reflect on my own journey; it’s the one I know best. It wasn’t that long ago that I took a lot of shit personally (that wasn’t, at all). I was a chronically pessimistic, cynical, fairly miserable traumatized human being disappointed with life, feeling weighed down by futility and despair, struggling to find any relief, purpose, or joy. I began making other choices, setting off on this profoundly healing journey some 14 years ago, around the time I reconnected with my (now) Traveling Partner. Shortly before then, actually, but at the time I didn’t really understand the nature of the journey ahead, nor where it could lead me (I was only beginning to understand the necessity and ask the important questions).

Like a road trip without a map, through fog.

…If I had known how far I would need to go, how long the journey ahead would be, and how much work, study, and will would be required, I doubt I would have understood that I had it in me to undertake it at all, and I might have given up on myself (I almost did)…

I’m just saying that it is possible to get from “there” to “here”, and it has been worthwhile a hundred times over to make the journey. So worth it.

I’ve read books and studied mindfulness and relevant cognitive research and developments in neuroscience. I’ve given thought to the advice and recommendations of friends, family, lovers, colleagues, and mental health professionals, and taken so many of their suggestions for a test drive, looking for changes that could improve my experience. I’ve pulled myself back from the precipice of despair a thousand times. I’ve practiced a multitude of practices, adopting some as permanent features of the way I live (meditation, non-attachment, and “taking in the good” being among those). I’ve pursued honest self-reflection and committed to better self-care. I’ve sought (and found) perspective, and embraced change. I’ve begun to thrive in life, instead of merely surviving it.

…Powerful stuff…

I’m sitting here with my thoughts on a rather stormy morning as summer approaches, watching the clouds drift by. The sun is up. I’ve got this trail to myself. It’s a pleasant moment and I am grateful to have this quiet solitary time.

I can only walk my own path.

I’m a bit frustrated by one thing as I sit with my thoughts… It’s this; I can find success and joy in life through all the means I’ve named, and I can share all that with you here, and with people dear to me, but I can’t make anyone else follow this (or a similar) path. We’re each having our own experience. I can’t actually make someone else abandon their negativity or pettiness. I can’t make someone embrace joy, or cultivate contentment. I can’t do the work for someone else or even convince them of the necessity or likely improvement that could follow. We have to walk our own hard mile. I had to walk mine, and I walk it even now. You have to walk yours, and the consequences of your actions (and your words) are yours to bear.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. It’s a lovely morning. A blue jay hops about in the weeds near my feet. The large rock beside the trail that I’m sitting on is firm beneath me. I feel grounded and comfortable in my skin, in spite of the pain I’m in. I feel sure of my path, and my worthiness to walk it. I am grateful for the many opportunities I have had to grow and change and begin again. Learning to forgive myself has been hard. Learning to forgive others has been harder. Both have been worthwhile and I am less burdened thereby.

This very human experience is an interesting and complicated thing, and I often wonder what the real purpose of it is, or whether it has one at all.

Maybe it’s enough to enjoy the journey?

There is a lot to forgive in one lifetime, but there’s also a lot to enjoy, and a lot to celebrate.  The storm clouds regroup, and the sky darkens. Rain drops begin to spatter the trail and the blue jay has flown away. I stand and stretch, and get ready to head back to the car. It’s time to begin again.

…Where does your path lead? Is that where you really want to go? The clock is ticking; choose wisely.

This morning begins well. Most mornings do. Mornings seem filled with peace and promise (from the perspective of this one mortal life). Sometimes they go horribly sideways and end badly, mostly they don’t. A really bad day sometimes causes me to lose awareness of how few days are truly “bad” for me, these days. Bad days happen. Everyone has occasional bad days. What characterizes a lifetime, though,  isn’t the presence of bad days, nor even how common or uncommon they may be, rather the ease with which a person can bounce back is what I find determines the character of a lifetime.

…I need more practice. Building resiliency takes time…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a lovely morning. I slept well and deeply. I woke gently, dressed, and left the house. I watched the sun rise as I drove toward the nature park. The sky was an impressionist masterpiece of color, the sun peaking over the horizon a bold orange ball, illuminating the streaks of clouds in hues of pink, peach, and lavender. There were mists clinging in low places, and soft fresh breezes fragrant with Spring flowers.

Today is new and wonderful. Well, definitely new, potentially wonderful. A new day (or new beginning) is filled with potential. That’s enough to begin again with, isn’t it?

Another breath. I walk the trail, content in my solitude. Yesterday was a difficult day. Yesterday is behind me now. Today unfolds ahead of me on the path, undetermined, undecided, full of potential joy and delight.

…It’s enough…

My Traveling Partner pinged me a good morning greeting and let me know he also got the rest he needed so badly. He lets me know I am welcome at home, and it’s nice to hear that. I feel loved. I make a plan to come home at lunchtime, and maybe even start the weekend early…

Everyone has bad days. I definitely do. You do too, I  bet. It’s part of the human experience. Emotions can complicate an experience. We tend to catastrophize difficult moments and conflate one challenge with another. We’re prone towards being self-critical, and our thinking errors fill studious volumes. Still, bad days are as temporary as everything else, and they pass. The dawn of a new day is a new beginning.

…I breathe, exhale  and let go of yesterday…

…It’s time to begin again.

I’ll keep doing my best…but…

…You don’t have to read this. In fact, I strongly suggest you skip it. I’m going to vent a bit, and share too much, and be too angry, and maybe you just don’t need that right now? Fucking drama, right? I know I don’t need this shit… I also don’t need to save it up to blow up over some even smaller bullshit later on. So, I just need to say words. You don’t have to read them, though…

Sure, it could be better, but it could also be a whole lot worse.

I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I woke with my headache “turned up to 11” this morning. My back aches with my arthritis. I’ve been dealing with a ton of “extras” – extra needs, extra tasks, extra negative emotions from people, extra calls on my calendar, extra email threads – and too little actual bandwidth to deal with it all comfortably, or easily, or with any particular measure of grace. Too much to do and I’m stretched to thin to be good at any of it. I’m just doing my best – and it’s clearly not enough to get the job done like a pro.

I catch tears welling up over and over again. Twice they dripped down my cheeks as I sat at my desk trying to focus on the task at hand. So… on top of all the other bullshit, I’m clearly also dealing with my own – while I sit in an open shared “public” professional (cowork) space. It’s awkward. Uncomfortable. Inconvenient. Inefficient. Distracting. (I’m still doing my best.)

…I even saw today coming, because it was pretty fucking predictable, and in no way actually “personal”…

On top of all that? The lights here are too bright. The office is too cold. My tinnitus is crazy loud. I’m noise-sensitive af. I broke a nail below the quick, and the broken bit snagged on the fabric of this office chair and tore right the fuck off – which hurts like hell, but nothing like this g’damned persistent now-going-on-11-years headache that follows me every-fucking-where, and for which no one (thus far) seems to have any useful insight on it, diagnosis of it, or treatment for it. It’s just there. Reliably. For 11 fucking years now.

My smile feels brittle when I have to interact with someone. It’s not real and doesn’t reach my eyes. I’m aware of it, and I feel self-conscious on top of being in pain. I want to do more, and do it better, and “be there” for everyone who needs me to be – especially my Traveling Partner, who’s dealing with his own misery today (and it’s probably worse than mine,) and who definitely needs my help, my love, and my care.

Why bother to drop this on you? Mostly because you’re here. Writing is a way I cope with complex emotion and shit that is overwhelming me. (Are you still reading this?? I did try to warn you…)

I breathe, exhale… I keep trying. I keep going. I just keep stepping through the various motions of various practices and waiting for something to click… for success to catch up with me… My results vary. Today, my results are not everything I need – they’re just all I’m going to get, apparently.

Hard is hard. The chaos and damage of trauma linger way past when we expect it to, and sometimes that really complicates things. It’s easy – too easy – to take all of it personally (it so clearly is not). My poor quality sleep impairs my thinking and limits my resilience. The work day limits my focus – but there, too, I’m struggling. It’s hard to focus. Hard to stay focused when I get there. I’m distracted by what’s going on with me and what’s going on with my partner and his health. Messy.

…Sometimes doing our best doesn’t get results that feel like enough, but it’s not actually possible to do “more than our best”. Frustrating. Enough has to be enough, but often it doesn’t feel like it is. Sometimes, our “best” is within reach, if we just reach farther, dig deeper, but g’damn… when does that ever end?

…I’m tired and I’m frustrated and I’m in pain. Still not personal. Still just sucks. So human. What is there to do about it besides take a minute to breathe, maybe time to meditate, stay on the path, and begin again? Nothing, I guess… but that doesn’t make it any more comforting when it doesn’t feel like enough, or any easier to practice when it doesn’t immediately feel effective.

…What a shitty fucking day this is so far…

…I’ve still got to begin again… again.

This too will pass.