Archives for category: anhedonia

Doing Unto Others

May 23, 2018 //

I was pretty crabby and cross with the world all day yesterday. I felt drained. Frustrated. Fed-the-fuck-up. Just generally not in a great mood. As I left the office, I allowed myself to be more explicitly aware of my state of being, and it occurred to me that just maybe I was about to get into my car, in that state of irritation, and head into commuter traffic less than ideally level-headed. This seemed, in the moment, a pretty shitty trick to play on unsuspecting other humans… What if we’d all had sort of a shitty day? Well, damn…. That didn’t sound good.

I started the car, and gave that some thought. I reminded myself that we’re probably, mostly, all of us doing our best moment-to-moment, more or less. All of us human. What if we really did all leave work feeling cross and frustrated, get in our cars, and head for home in dense commuter traffic? What would I want from my fellow commuters? What did I want from myself?

I pulled out of the parking lot feeling more than usually aware that we are each having our own experience. More willing to assume positive intent. More sensitive to the basic humanity of each of those other drivers.

The commute took the same amount of time as it usually does. There were just as many unskilled drivers showing just as much poor judgement. The same amount of risk appeared to be involved. All the same terrible moments of congestion at particular intersections existed. The experience was much improved, though, and I felt personally less frustrated. I got home feeling calm, contented, and actually somewhat less cross than I might ordinarily. Win!

Only… my shitty mood surged back into life once I was in the house. I was dealing with my own bullshit. (Aren’t we all?) I took a deep breath. I spent some time meditating. I enjoyed a leisurely shower. I made a bite of dinner and a lovely cup of tea. I took the medication I needed. Basic self-care stuff. I still felt on edge and somewhat aggravated, for no obvious reason. It happens. I knew it would eventually pass.

I took a moment on the deck, in the evening sunshine.

Self-care matters. It’s not always “easy” to take that time for ourselves, but so worth it – and so important! You matter. Take time for the care you need. 🙂

I enjoyed the fading sunlight awhile, filling up my experience with the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves of the Big Leaf Maples beyond the deck.

What you need for you is something you decide for yourself. Definitely don’t take someone else’s word for that. Try things. Practice practices. You are your own cartographer. If that didn’t work, try this. Eventually, you find your way. Life’s menu is vast – don’t just order the cheeseburger every time. 😉

Tags are you going my way?, be here now, be the change, begin again, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, MBSR, meditation, mindfulness matters, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, medical marijuana, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Well This Sucks

May 15, 2018 //

I’m home for the day. The poor quality of my sleep continued to affect my experience much of the day. I arrived home feeling… sad. Drained. Sorrowful. Mortal. Contemplating such fun topics on the commute home as “do any of us really deserve to live?” and “would I spend my life this way if I knew I would be dead in 2 years?”. It was a grim and unsatisfying drive.

Now, home with my thoughts, armed with almost 5 years of better practices to fall back on, and still I pick at the open wound that is the recollection of last night’s nightmares. I continue to fuss quietly, seething, alone, and feeling disrupted. “It’s all in my head”, I remind myself. In this moment, right here, I am unconvinced, and my solitude is less than ideal. Words and phrases, lacking in context or purpose in the moment, bring me to the brink of tears, when they reach my consciousness. It’s foolishness of the first order, nonetheless it is difficult to dismiss it when I am tired, and feeling rather sad. It feeds itself. I even know this.

I stew in it awhile. The traffic beyond my windows aggravates me. I am sound sensitive, and easily irritated. I am sleepy – but also restless. My nightmares left me feeling averse, at this point, to falling asleep again; I don’t want to return to The Nightmare City. Not tonight. Not right now. Not when it is obvious that the current denizens of my darkest dreams really get what terrifies me most at this time in my life. I don’t want to be the grown up in the room… I want someone else to do that for me. I want to be held. Told “everything will be okay” – in spite of there being very little actually “wrong”, at all. I want someone to check for monsters under the bed, and in the closets, and care for me as though these concerns are “real”. I want someone to promise me things, and assure me that there is a happily ever after if only I am “a good girl” or “work hard enough”… or some other bullshit combination of magic words intended to soothe the savage bitch.

Being tired isn’t a good state of being for me, generally speaking. A wave of anger washes over me as I wonder how the hell I survived my 20s at all…? The anger is no more (or less) “real” than the other emotions that crash upon my cognitive shore, wave upon wave, disconnected from circumstances. There is more to come. I guess I’m fortunate, in general. This bullshit? It is bullshit.

This bullshit, though? It’s hard, yeah. This part, here? This doesn’t seem to get any easier over time. Mired in my own bullshit, for the moment, aware I could do more differently, could begin again, could move the fuck on from this… I know, I know. Choices. Verbs. Ennui overtakes good sense. Anhedonia steps in for will. There are, at least, these words. I can see them, as I write. I hear my voice – finally, I am heard, even in this dark moment. I’m here for me, at least that far. I’m not yet despairing… that’s something. I hold onto that. I breathe. I have a big glass of water, and marvel at how refreshing that can actually be. I take a couple Tylenol for this chronic headache (an exception, almost on the order of “a treat”), knowing that even a few hours of relief, in this state I’m in now, will make a difference – enough to be worth accepting the risks and contraindications. My temper flares up, and cools, again and again, disconnected from anything going on around me. “This too shall pass”, a calmer inner voice observes gently, kindly, full of love and understanding.

I breathe. I relax. I let go one notion, then another. Breathe. Exhale. Let the stray thoughts that plague me fall away like wisps of mist on a summer morning, before the heat of the day develops. Another breath, another moment. One by one. My seething fury begins to ease. I’m just tired. I put my ear plugs in, and add noise-canceling headphones. There is quiet now, except for my tinnitus. It’s enough. It’s enough to endure. It’s enough to survive. It’s enough to have choices and to attempt, in some small way, to choose. It’s enough to recognize agency, even if I fail to make use of it. Right now? “Enough” is plenty – I can hold on to that, perhaps long enough to get some rest.

Eventually, I will understand to begin again. Eventually, I can walk on from this moment. It’ll pass.

Tags anxiety, be the change, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, meditation, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, Washington Trails, Words

What, Morning Again?

February 9, 2018 //

I woke much earlier than my alarm. Early enough to do yoga, shower, dress, and make an Americano before my alarm would have gone off. I’m quite alert and wide awake, and feel rather as if weeks and weeks of fatigue and illness are finally behind me. Still have the weird headache. Still have more future appointments to deal with it. Still have the arthritis pain. Still bitching about that. It is morning. I am human. 🙂

I sip my coffee contentedly, noting how good it is this morning and just really enjoying that. It is a Friday, tomorrow is the weekend. I feel relaxed and at ease – because, partly, I’ve chosen to practice having this experience of relaxed contentment, learned to build and sustain that over time, and it’s become (if not my default “state of being”) quite common to feel this way. It is a huge improvement over being mired in despair, chronically frustrated, and wondering endlessly what the point even is to living. 😀 I’ll straight up say it; I got here with my choices. I got here with practice. There were – and are – verbs involved. Practicing practices is an ongoing thing; this is not a task, these are processes. This is me, living my life, and my results vary – right now, this moment here? It’s very pleasant. 🙂

There is stuff yet to do. Housekeeping. Tidying up. Maintenance. Repairing, cleaning and maintaining. lol There’s also brunch with a friend, hang out time with another, and perhaps a lovely hike with a new camera on a pleasant Sunday morning. 😀 I get to choose. 🙂

I’m ready to begin again. Let’s start this day!

Tags are you going my way?, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose, choose wisely, don't just stand there, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, it's a big menu, mindful living, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, what matters most?

Categories anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, winter

Strange and (Self)Limited

February 8, 2018 //

What a peculiar few days (couple of weeks?) it has been. I haven’t done anything particularly noteworthy… I go to work. I return home. I meditate. I read. I do just enough yoga to continue to use all my joints. I do just enough housekeeping to stay mostly fairly tidy. I don’t feel mired in sorrow, or at all blue. I’m just dealing with more pain than usual. It takes a lot out of me. I feel less like going anywhere or doing anything, once I’ve managed to put a work day behind me. Weekends aren’t much different; more meditation, more reading, no work of the employment sort, lots more squirrels, still managing pain.

I miss my Traveling Partner, but I am glad I’ve taken the time to get rested. I’m even, generally, sleeping (mostly) through the nights, and getting to bed at an hour that ensures I’ve gotten adequate rest. It’s something. Right now, it’s enough. Clearly I’ve been needing the rest. I’ve even finally gotten entirely over all of whatever contagious crud has been going around. Other than the pain I am often in, I feel pretty good. 🙂

I sip my coffee. The weather seems already inclined to turn toward spring. I’ve begun carrying the new camera with me everywhere. I look ahead to the weekend, another on which I will be generally at home. I’ve brunch plans Saturday with a friend that will take me an hour across town – which, these days, hardly seems like a drive at all. lol I’ve got a ticket to a concert Saturday night. In between those, regularly planned time hanging out with another friend. Busy Saturday. Sunday looks like a good day for rest and laundry – or a hike! If the weather holds up, Sunday could be a lovely day to take the camera on her first outing into the trees down some near-ish trail. A plan begins to take shape. 😀

I smile into my coffee as I take a moment to recognize I’ve probably been quite slowed down just by the fact that it is winter – that’s a thing, it happens to all kinds of creatures, our seasonal clocks don’t all affect us the same way. I don’t consider myself someone with any sort of profound seasonal affective symptoms, but I am still a mammal, a primate, a living creature with circadian rhythms, and it is still winter. 🙂

…I’ve got a plan to begin again. This morning, that’s enough. 🙂

Tags are you going my way?, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, meditation, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path

Categories anhedonia, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, loneliness, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, solo hiking, Spring

Small Things Matter

January 7, 2018 //

All weekend it’s been a matter of choices – choices to care for myself, or choices that were less about that and more about getting some specific task handled. No surprise – these concepts come into conflict regularly. I have managed to choose self-care more often than other things, mostly, and I feel as if, mostly, I am sort of mostly getting over this once-a-sore-throat-now-something-more-about-a-nasty-hacking-cough-and-shortness-of-breath. I face choices again. Do I commit to getting my ass up early tomorrow and dragging myself into the office choking on my own snot, or do I properly care for myself as an adult, aware that I could be contagious, and ew gross – pretty sure no one wants to listen to me coughing all day – and make the choice to call out? I’ve been thinking it over for a while.

I finally have to come to terms with one of adulthood’s mighty challenges; I have responsibilities I am not able to delegate, so… either I say “fuck it, you’ll all get by, see you Tuesday, folks”, or… work from home. Okay. I’m right in that sickness median between too sick to care (and therefore easily able to just call out) and getting well enough to go in (in which case, capable of some work)… I’m fortunate that I have the option to work from home, and I go ahead and make that choice. It feels good to take care of myself. I pause for a moment of compassion, regret, and even anger that there are hard-working people out there, everywhere, who literally can not afford to call out from work, however sick they may be. That’s just not right.

Working in the environment I do, I am very aware of the business consequences over time of productive hours lost to contagion in a confined area. I see it every year. I see well-meaning folks attempting to make the “right” choice coming in to work when they are likely to be contagious, because they don’t want to, or can’t financially afford to, miss work, and getting everyone they talk to exposed, everyone who touches a surface they touched exposed, everyone who passes through air space into which they sneezed or coughed exposed – and a goodly percentage, in a short time, will themselves either call out, or work at reduced productivity while infecting colleagues. I try to be very mindful myself that contagion lasts longer than we realize, often beginning before we know we’re ill, and lasting some time after we feel “mostly over it”. Working from home tomorrow is a good choice… it still took me hours to make that choice and feel confident I am doing the right thing – which is hilarious. I still have to work so hard at taking care of me. It’s worth practicing, though. 🙂

This weekend has been all naps and chicken broth, rest and self-care, good nutrition, and attending to my health. Being sick leaves me exhausted and anhedonic, lacking in appetite, soaked in ennui. I know it will pass. I have done little and still feel wrung out and overworked. I’ll get over it. I keep drinking water, tea, broth… trying to drown the virus or steam it out. lol I simultaneously feel grateful to live alone (no cranky interactions), but also deeply lonely (to be cared for like a child home sick from school). I am exhausted, and also bored. I am restless, but so tired I’d rather nap than do anything at all. It sucks and I will be glad to be done with it. lol Maybe I’ll be over it tomorrow? Well… if nothing else, tomorrow I can begin again. 🙂

Tags a hacking cough, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, get over it, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, p.s. I love you, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the common cold, viral pharyngitis, what's that wheezing sound?

Categories anhedonia, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, loneliness, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Doing Unto Others

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Well This Sucks

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What, Morning Again?

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Strange and (Self)Limited

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Small Things Matter

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