Archives for category: anger

This journey that is “being human” is pretty strange. The path veers and is not always easy to see, regularly obscured by doubt, frustration, or buried ancient fear. Still, this is the life we’re given and the time in which to become. I sip my coffee thinking my thoughts. If I wander as I wonder, please forgive me; I’m very tired, and I’ve got a headache. I’ll do my best to get to my point… if I can. If I have one.

I think the point I’d hoped to make is that my (our?) sometimes frustrated sensation of “never enough” has at least an element of truth to it; we are ceaselessly becoming. We have opportunities to grow, to advance, to change, to do more/better over time than we were once able to do. It’s pretty easy to acknowledge our (my?) plentiful imperfections, and to recognize that we grow and change, but… there’s that irksome sensation of inadequacy, of “never enough” that vexes the soul now and then. Frustration. Disappointment. Sometimes it feels like a win to remind myself that I am worthy, that I am enough… but… from another vantage point, if that were truly the case, why would I constantly be seeking to grow and to become the person I most want to be? I sip my coffee and think that over for awhile.

…I’m so tired…

My hair is soft, resting in loose waves along my neck. I push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, and run my fingers through the softness of my hair. It feels nice. I sigh out loud in this quiet space and feel the seeming vastness of the solitude, broken by the glow of the monitors in front of me, hinting at life beyond this moment. The big office windows display the park below me, still dressed up in holiday lights. They contrast merrily with the pre-dawn darkness. It’ll be awhile before daybreak arrives. It’s early. I sip my coffee and watch the occasional car make the turns around the park. It takes up one city block, with parking on all sides. At this early hour, there’s not much going on down there, and not much to see. the condo tower on the opposite side of the park has more lights on than usual, and many of those have holiday lights. Pretty. I sit and think, and sip coffee, and breathe. This moment, here? It’s enough. I enjoy it for awhile.

I woke “too early” this morning, and I’ve not had enough sleep, and the sleep I did get was restless and interrupted. My tracker seems to think I managed to get almost 5 hours of sleep, but it was broken up into unsatisfyingly short fragments of the night, the longest of those being just about 3 hours. I’m not in a bad mood, though, and today is off to a better start than yesterday. I keep drinking this coffee. I grab a bottle of water from the beverage cooler and start drinking that, too. I smile to myself, remembering that this new day is filled with all the promise of every new day; it is new. A chance to do more/better, to do differently, to make what matters most the real priority – and to sort out what that is, to me, today.

…A chance to be the person I most want to be…

Yesterday evening my Traveling Partner got super annoyed with me over me being a bad listener. (I’m not going to argue that point, frankly I struggle with interrupting people on this whole other level that goes well beyond “poor listening”, and I continue to work on it – it’s a brain injury thing, nonetheless there is value in doing better.) He was feeling mad and hurt and not heard. I think we mostly worked through that. Along the way he shared two videos with me about listening, both are quite good so I’ll share them here, too (and a couple others I have bookmarked). I think we could all stand to improve on how well we listen, you know?

I keep working on being a good listener. Having a brain injury is a pretty notable stumbling block on this path, but no one said the path would be well-paved, and brightly illuminated, eh? Generally speaking, working on something is easier if you at least know it’s a problem… but… in this instance, I’ve known for ages, and I still struggle. I keep at it. Small incremental changes over time are worth the effort.

I guess that’s the point; there are verbs involved. Results will vary. The value in any given practice is in those small incremental changes, which do add up. There is no “perfection”. Achieve one goal, and there’s another just on the horizon. Another step on the path. More to practice. That “never enough” feeling is annoying, to be sure, and it’s a sign of frustration, and perhaps fatigue. There’s more to self-care than diet and fitness and a good night’s sleep (Although, right about now, a really good night’s sleep would be a win). Learning to be a good listener is an important social skill, worthy of practice. Balancing “all the things” is what eases that “never enough” feeling… because the hours of the day are finite. Life is finite. It’s important to make room for self-care alongside the being and the becoming.

I sip my coffee and yawn. I’ve lost the thread of my thoughts… and it’s already time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and hoping to shake off this relatively shitty mood, soon. I woke early, ahead of my alarm, and started the day with my first interaction being with my Traveling Partner, who isn’t feeling himself (injured, still recovering), and was not in a great mood (also up quite a bit earlier than he wanted or needed to be). The commute was fine. Traffic was relatively light and the drive went by quickly and didn’t make much of an impression on my still-waking-up consciousness. I left too early to grab coffee on the way, and I’ve had to just put up with that until I got to the office. My head aches. My neck aches. My back aches. I’d frankly rather be elsewhere doing something different, right now, but… here I am. It is what it is, and what it is, is… a perfectly ordinary work day. The first of 2024.

I take another sip of my coffee. It’s okay. Not great. Not bad. Just coffee. I remind myself to appreciate that luxury properly; in the state the world is in, generally, there’s no telling when the supply of coffee will be used up, and no more available to “regular people” than mega-yachts are. Coffee is a luxury. In the present day, a mostly affordable luxury (depending on where you buy your beans, I guess). That may not always be the case. A lot of things work out that way. Enjoy the things you enjoy while you have them. Circumstances change.

Over the weekend, I managed to jam a tiny thin piece of PLA filament under my fingernail (left index finger, if that matters), and although I was fortunate not to break it off, I definitely jammed it right into the delicate nailbed and it hurts. Small thing, hardly worth bitching about, but every time my finger strikes a key on the keyboard, I am reminded of it.

…So… Here it is a new year, a new week, a new day… and I’m cross and fussy like a fucking toddler on the edge of a tantrum. I don’t mean to be. I don’t even have any excuse for this bullshit besides being irritable after waking too early and being on the receiving end of my partner’s own crossness. Another sip of coffee… I remind myself I don’t have to let this be the theme of the entire fucking day. I’ve got choices. It’s sometimes quite difficult to choose away from an emotional experience or a state of being, but… it can be done. Doesn’t generally work (for me) to try to suppress it, “wish it away”, or “fake it ’til I make it”, though. “The way out is through” applies here. So, a positive distraction, an opportunity to focus on something else, a healthier more recent interaction with my Traveling Partner… those are the steps on this path. I sip my coffee, take my medication, and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths. I stand and stretch, looking out at the city stretching beyond these windows and “give myself a moment”.

I take my coffee cup and walk from window to window, looking out at the city from different points of view, drinking my coffee and letting my thoughts wander where they will before returning to my desk to write. A glance at the time brings me back to the routine in front of me. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

I’m already on my second coffee, and will likely have a third. Maybe a fourth. I’m so tired… There’s not enough coffee to resolve this amount of fatigue.

My Traveling Partner woke me during the wee hours. He couldn’t sleep. It was not quite 3 a.m. He was supremely frustrated with being unable to sleep, and trying anything to figure out why he wasn’t sleeping. His injury was making him uncomfortable, too, and he was clearly vexed and feeling that the lack of restful sleep would slow his recovery. Sleep isn’t easy for everyone, and it can be a tough puzzle to “figure out”. I know this first hand, and even in this very moment. Since having been awakened, I wasn’t going to find sleep easily again myself (if at all).

Hoping to minimize any further possible disruptions to my Traveling Partner’s potential to go back to sleep, I went ahead and dressed and went on in to the office. Options. (Flexible hours for the win!) Fuck, I’m so tired, though. I tried unsuccessfully to nap on a couch in the break area… strange space, uncomfortable couch, no CPAP machine, the lights and noise of the city… it wasn’t happening. So. Work, then? Work. And coffee.

…Great commute into the city, though… no traffic at all. LOL

Getting my ass up, dressed, and out of the house when my partner can’t sleep is, as he points out himself, “just a band-aid”, not really a solution. What the hell is the solution to poor quality sleep? The real answer? I don’t know; I still suffer from poor quality sleep on a regular basis – I just don’t happen to deal with snoring as the cause of that experience, nor worry that my snoring is keeping my partner awake, since I started on a CPAP machine. I’m still light and noise sensitive. I still struggle with nightmares. I still sometimes find myself wakeful during the night for no obvious reason. I still need more sleep than I find myself able to get. The only piece of the puzzle I’ve ever truly solved was eliminating my anxiety, frustration, and anger over being unable to sleep. I used to respond to lost sleep with tears and fury. Tossing and turning. Punching pillows. Restlessly banging about my living space frustratedly trying to coax myself into returning to sleep by creating more fatigue, somehow. Enacting peculiar “bed time” rituals like getting a drink of water, then going back to bed. Sometimes something worked, mostly nothing did (or does; if I’m not going to sleep, I’m not going to sleep). The stress over it made it much worse. That I was able to ease, and pretty much resolve completely. Now, when I’m wakeful, I just… am awake. I meditate. Read quietly. Maybe write. Get up and have a quiet cup of chamomile tea, perhaps. It just “doesn’t bother me” the way it used to. This was a choice built on practices, built on acceptance, and built on non-attachment. That much I managed, and it has worked nicely.

…But I don’t think that counts as a solution to poor quality sleep…

…And I really really wish I could truly help my partner resolve his sleep challenges, especially if I am any cause of those! Whether I am or not… I’d just like him to be able to get the sleep he needs to feel well and rested every day!

There are a ton of commonplace recommendations regarding sleep hygiene from any number of foundations, YouTube channels, Dr recommendations, sleep clinics, sleep-oriented businesses, and bloggers… some of them likely work for some people. All of them probably work for someone. (Chances are none of them work for everyone.) I practice many of them routinely and they have become habit for me. It helped. Stressing over the lack of sleep never helped at all, and I suspect did much to make things worse. Learning not to do that was a big deal, and it was my Traveling Partner who pushed me to do so, wisely pointing out that the stress about not sleeping was causing me to lose more sleep.

I don’t have any solutions – but I know how much sleep matters, and I know a lot of us struggle to get the sleep we need. Are you having sleep difficulties? What have you done about it? I’d be interested to know what has worked for you.

Coffee #2 is finished, and just a memory. It’s time to make a third and try to push through the fatigue on caffeine and pure persistence. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee “treat” this morning, enjoying the unusual flavor combination of a maple-sage cashew-milk latte. It’s very nice. Rich and velvety on my tongue, with the taste of sage and coffee hitting my senses first, and seeming quite festive, with the subtler notes of the maple and the cashew milk making me think twice about what it was I just tasted. Interesting. I don’t have lattes very often, and it’s a pleasant holiday treat.

This morning I am thinking about forgiveness and atonement. I’m thinking about forgiveness because I was once a 20-something woman of such ferocity and bitterness towards life that I commonly snarled (in response to any suggestion that some particularly heinous experiences in my life might warrant “forgiveness”) that “there are some sins even your god does not forgive”, before turning my back to walk away, radiating seething suppressed rage. I’m not sure I still stand in those same shoes, these days, nor do I feel at all certain that it’s a good place to be as an individual. On the other hand, there remains a certain someone who was once in my life of whom it is hard to hold any thought but “fuck that bitch”, with anger teetering on an urge for violence. Her narcissistic machinations left me damaged. Worse still, she hurt my Traveling Partner and did her damnedest to end his relationship with me. But… Holding on to that pain and impotent rage? That’s not at all who I want to be. So… as my Traveling Partner has suggested many times, I’m probably overdue to sort that shit out and move on. Forgiveness isn’t about her, it’s for me.

Atonement is something different. Atonement requires me to acknowledge the part I’ve played in some kind of wrong, and to do something to make it right. Acknowledgement. Contrition. Apology. Reparation. It’s the hard work of being real about being human. Big stuff and small stuff, we all fuck shit up. We all hurt people sometimes. Being a better human being than I was yesterday means coming to terms with the things I’ve done that hurt someone else or created real harm, and doing something to set things right.

…I see a lot of thoughtful self-reflection and contemplation coming my way…

What about when the forgiveness is self-forgiveness? What about when the wrongs were against myself – how do I atone for those hurts, too? How much of this is about me, and how much is in pursuit of healthier relationships and a better world, generally? (Does that matter, at all?)

I sip my delicious latte and think my thoughts. Soon it will be time to put some kind thinking into action. Then I’ll begin again.

Merry Giftmas! Happy Holiday! Good morning! It’s possibly been a morning of early rising, paper tearing, excited exclamations, and eager anticipation becoming reality, already followed by a sugar crash. Even more likely if you have little ones at home. Too often we forget that the highs are often followed by the lows, that the excitement and joy and tasty holiday sweets are often followed by that annoying “sugar crash”.

I hope your morning is all bliss and joy and laughter… but… if you’re also serving up (or being served) a hearty helping of frayed nerves, cross words, or moments of stress and you find yourself struggling to manage…? You’re not alone. It’s a very human experience. I hope you find “all the right words” to sooth hurt feelings and set things right once more. I hope you take every apology offered as wholly sincere. I hope you cut yourself and your loved ones some slack; we’re all so very human.

People bring so much love and joy to their holidays, but they also bring their humanity, which is sometimes cobbled together from fragments of bullshit and baggage, chaos and damage, and maybe some actual physical pain. Give each other a minute. Let small things stay small. Try not to start shit. The love matters most. Take a breath, let it go, and begin again. 🙂

‘Tis the Season

…And Merry Giftmas to you all.