Archives for category: Anxiety
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Change is a Thing

September 21, 2018 //
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I woke feeling better this morning, after a rather dismal early night of feeling fairly ill. It’s behind me. I feel better. I’m grateful.

I made my coffee, and read messages from my Traveling Partner, while waiting for water to boil. I smile, reminded that today is payday. I didn’t quite scamper to my desk with my coffee; time to pay bills!! 😀

…Wait…

…I don’t even like paying bills or “dealing with the money shit“… What is this about?

I sit down and review my budget, look over the banking details and the pending and upcoming bills, even those set to auto-pay (which is most of them). The auto-payments are all set to minimums, though, and generally I like to do better than that, particularly on debt with finance charges or interest. So, I make a few changes, and hit send on some payments.

There’s less cash in the bank account very quickly, but this amazing feeling of contentment, achievement, satisfaction, and… safety. I feel emotionally safer when my bills are paid. This particular feeling “seems new” – it’s at least new-ish, in the sense that for many years I did not at all understand how much of my anxiety and day-to-day discomfort in my own skin was about debt, poverty, privation, not having basic goods and services, not having enough to enjoy small luxuries… “getting by” often did not feel very good at all. I didn’t really connect that experience with my shitty money management.  Back then, I “managed” my finances by way of fear, anxiety, desperation, and panic. It was a less than ideal approach.

Something has changed. My finances are decently well-managed. I’ve come a long way in my career, and my ability to manage my finances (with a lot of help and emotional support from my Traveling Partner). When I need something (like, say, a car), I can usually just go for it. I don’t have the resources to live a fully cash-based luxury life, far from it, I have to plan, and be mindful with my finances, and make it a commitment to look after my resources with care, aware of the future ahead of me, which still has a lot of fucking uncertainty. Still… I’m okay right now. It’s a nice feeling.

This morning, I’m also just… yeah, my mind is still completely blown that the high point of my morning has been paying my bills. lol Something has changed, over time, about the way I view money, and how my experience of dealing with it feels. Having a few weeks riding the ragged edge of dragging my cash accounts back in time to near-zero balances, however briefly (waiting a few more weeks to buy the Mazda would have been, perhaps, wiser) was some eye-opening perspective. Once I got past the initial anxiety, and became more explicitly aware that I was processing trauma associated with money, it stopped being so worrisome, and became nothing more than a few days of waiting, and an opportunity to share my experience with my Traveling Partner, and coordinate limited shared resources more skillfully, with great care, for a couple weeks. 🙂

What a nice place to be with myself. Oh, I no doubt still have some baggage about money, and about not having it. I can do better. There’s more to practice. More to learn. Still… these small celebrations of forward momentum, and positive changes that result in improved quality of life, are important; celebration means awareness, and holding these positive changes happily in my explicit awareness for a time, makes them “more real” in my implicit sense of self.

…And I just love feeling good.

I feel good. 🙂

It’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5

3 Mondays & 1 Moment

September 13, 2018 //
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This was a weird week. Work felt like 3 Mondays – and I believe 3 Mondays make a case (…of the… lol. I know, it’s bad.) Yeah. So. Today, though? Not a Monday.

The morning started with a foggy drizzle and chilly, still, air. No breeze. No traffic. The commute was easy. I don’t remember it in any detail, aside from the pure moment of delight as the signal light at intersection after intersection turned green immediately ahead of me. Bliss! I maintained a disciplined eye on my speed, marveling at the sequence of intersections, and enjoyed the uninterrupted momentum. I wasn’t speeding, wasn’t going slow… just… driving. It was lovely.

I parked and stood in the chilly morning cityscape for some minutes, just breathing, listening, watching. It felt… mischievous and tempting. I considered getting back in the car and going… where? Somewhere. Somewhere new, or strange, or… away.  Ah. Is that it? I smile at the morning, gray and misty. Am I needing “a getaway”? Cuz… that usually means I’m not taking care of myself, and have made that infernal “to do list” a bit too long. I nod wisely to myself, as if I think I know something, and head to the elevator to enjoy a few hours of feeling like I know things.

I got home less concerned about knowing, and more focused on being. It’s a chilly evening. I turn on the gas fireplace. I make a cup of tea. I put everything else aside and properly care for this fragile vessel, and the woman in the mirror.

…At least for the moment, I am not concerned with politics, the scary world we’ve made, how mean people can be to each other, the cost of living life, my health, mortality, or bank account. I’m just sipping this cup of tea, and taking a few quiet minutes. (You think I’m writing; this laptop is balanced carefully in my lap, I am seated on my meditation cushion, with a cup of hot tea gently perched on my knee – a sneeze could be very costly right about now – and I am sitting contentedly with my thoughts, and the lovely view of autumn arriving slowly, and only writing now and then… and almost not at all.

I sit awhile.

Then awhile more.

I finish my tea, and continue, seated… relaxed.

…

…

…Sometime, later, I begin again. 😉

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Gas Petal is on the Right, You #%&@&*$$#@!!!

September 12, 2018 //
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Well then.

I did get safely home. I did not rant at cars the whole way or fill the entire universe with vile invective. I did not. The one momentary loss of reserve happened to occur while I was on the phone with my Traveling Partner, as I was making a feeble attempt to disregard the guy ahead of me driving 10 mph in a 30 mph zone, during rush hour traffic, with cars bumper to bumper behind me – and blue skies and open road ahead of him. Well, shit. That was frustrating. It’s an everyday practice now; can I get from point A to point B, driving a car in traffic, without losing my cool? I generally can, these days. Now and then, I’m just… astonished to the point of lost perspective that people can be such shitty drivers so much of the time. I mean, seriously? What the hell. Safety first, definitely, but omg, then? Please also actually just drive your damned car like you plan to get somewhere. lol

…On the other hand? I set myself up for it today. I went in to work early. I worked without taking breaks. I failed to have a second cup of coffee when I got to my desk. I think I had a bite of lunch…but I clearly did so mindlessly; I don’t remember it at all. I hear it was a great lunch at the office today… I almost certainly had something… By the time I got into afternoon traffic, great dark storm clouds were blotting out the sinking sun, it was much later than I’d have left under other circumstances. I had a headache, and my blood sugar was almost certainly low. The other drivers weren’t the only shitty drivers on the road; my own judgment was surely impaired by my approach to the task, as I was rushing toward my destination, attempting to “beat my blood sugar home”.

(…Um… That’s not how that works.)

I was doing a fairly shitty job of really adulting today… but I was highly productive. For my employer. At the expense of my well-being. Which does not remotely achieve the goal and purpose of working for a living. See that? That’s a word. Words matter. They convey meaning.

I got safely home – even found my lost perspective shortly after I got off the (hands-free) phone call with my partner, who made a point to keep it super short (even though we enjoy talking). It was no doubt evident I was not at my best. He’s sharp like that. Aware of my mood. Aware of my… awareness. 🙂 First thing in the door, once I arrived home, I heated up some soup, and took care of the thing most likely to drive volatility at that point, my blood sugar. I took time to have a big glass of water. I took time to reeeeeeally stretch, and then relax. I went out onto the deck and inhaled the rain fresh air, and watched the storm clouds moving in for more. I sat down to tackle an errand I’d have been in no shape for, if I hadn’t managed my self-care, and then re-assessed the evening.

I rushed off without writing this morning, and didn’t even notice. In the settling gloom of twilight, arriving home rain scented to a stress-free space, I started seeing the thread, how the day developed from that first rushed moment, and never, ever, let up, not even once. It wasn’t a bad day. It was, in fact, generally speaking, a good day – pocked with challenging moments that weren’t even actually bad, just very busy. I’m tired. Cognitively fatigued, but brain still buzzing with busy-ness. If I don’t hop down off this mental treadmill, there won’t be any sleep for me tonight, and the work day will start even earlier tomorrow, and I’ll be short-tempered, error-prone, and lacking in both perspective and sense of humor. Get me tired enough, pile on a few more days, and I fall back on routine and process to keep me going to the point that any deviation at all holds the potential to see me really losing my perspective and ability to reason clearly. So… “Let’s have none of that…” I think at myself. Amused by the notion that just throwing words at the problem could solve anything. This? This needs action. Action… not words. Action …words? Action words.

Verbs.

Fucking verbs again. Damn it. I’m tired and silly. I’ve given all of what I had, today, to my employer, and really there’s nothing much left for me. Acknowledging it is enough to fill my eyes with tears, and my lip trembles. I feel like a child… Then, I wonder what I think I mean by that?

I keep sipping on my soup. It’s warm and comforting. Filling. Soothing. Tears never quite come; I’m finally taking care of this person I say matters to me that I’ve been fairly literally abusing all damned day. I let myself have that moment of self-directed anger. I really “listen” to the frustration and, yes, even “hurt feelings” that result from just treating myself like dirt all day. In my mind, I imagine a toddler storming at a parent, raging, stomping, “I’m mad at you!!”.

…”Yeah, kid,” I think back at myself, “I’m mad at me, too. I can do better. I’m sorry.” My eyes fill again briefly, and the moment passes. I feel myself pout a bit mentally, when it hits me… and I hear that hurt child-like inner voice again, “you didn’t leave any time at all for cartoons”.

Shit. That does suck.

I glance at the time. I really do need to slow things down, a lot, or I won’t sleep. I put aside the notion of doing more, other, stuff. I dim the lights quite a lot. Yoga, meditation, and an early night will have to do this evening. It’s a poor choice to stare at an illuminated screen for any length of time, this late, all wound up this way. I take a few moments to medicate, and get ready to head for my meditation cushion.

It’s time to hit the reset button. Tomorrow I can begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Adulthood is Leaning in Hard This Week

September 10, 2018 //
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Damn. Fuck this week. Already. Shit.

I say “this week”, but in all reasonable ways, and well-considered perspectives, this has been building slowly, event by event, detail by detail, day by day, and stitched together by threads of good intentions, affection, kindness, and commitments. I’m still having some moments of major anxiety as delicately balanced circumstances teeter on the edge of not going very well at all, which is stressful on a level I don’t recall feeling in a long time. It’s hard.

…Every new responsibility adds to the burden.

…Every new need piles on still more to a growing list of shit to do.

…Every new moment of stress dials up the intensity of the anxiety in the background.

…Every day… each moment… add another… then another… now one more… still standing? Here, have a little more extra… and more… and again… and still… and even… and then… and now… wait…what?? No time for questions – go go go!!

I caught myself “screaming into the void” on the commute home – a solo rant, with some ferocity, something on the order of a spoken word performance, or poetry, only much less pleasant. lol Not tearful, not exactly frustrated – just mad… about feeling anxious. Mad about feeling ill-equipped to be fully adult, even now. Mad at circumstances that could be just the tiniest bit better and end up quite splendid. Angry just to feel these ancient-seeming feelings of “shouldering the load” again. It’s not any one thing. It’s not any one individual. It’s not specifically work or specifically personal. It’s not lacking in context. I’m not “in it alone”. I’m just one human, having this human moment of mine, myself, and really feeling it. Which is… uncomfortable.

Mid-rant I remembered something I have been finding important; I don’t grow much through experiences that are comfortable, or reliably pleasant, or completely planned and predictable… or easy. That’s just real. Ease does not correlate with personal growth. That thought shut me down completely for a moment. I even stopped being so aggravated by that ludicrously slow driver ahead of me (15 in a 25 – one lane, no passing room) maintaining easily 3 car lengths of distance from the car ahead… during the evening rush hour commute… down a road with intersections more frequently than every quarter mile… with bumper-to-bumper traffic behind him for many blocks (I could see when I got a good view from the top of the hill in my review mirror). Yep. Even that stopped bugging me in the moment that I realized I’d been handed something precious – discomfort, anxiety, and a chance to work through those things and grow.

I’m pretty committed to my personal growth as a human being – I don’t know how much time I’ve got to complete this project, really, and I’d like to get as far along as I can toward being the human being I most want to be. It’s a real and true thing, that “doing better than I did yesterday” is a bit more complicated if the days roll by so gently that what I feel most of the time is delicious simple contentment, wrapped in the affection and high regard of those who hold me dear. I can choose change, but I won’t kid you; I’m not likely to choose to be uncomfortable, stressed out, anxious, fearful, worried, nervous, or in dread of what comes next out of this craze-tacular fun house of chaos and human drama. I like it easy.

Well it doesn’t feel fucking easy right about now. I’m having to bring a lot of attention to maintaining good self-care practices in the face of a lot more stress than has been commonplace for a couple years now. I’m having to skillfully practice “letting shit go” when holding on to it only creates more stress, and has no productive outcome. I’m having to really search for perspective, really work to find balance, and really practice the practices that have brought me so far in such a short time – as if failing to do so could send me crashing into a pit of despair (which it easily could). So many verbs. So little time. 😉

Tonight I’m not doing beginnings – just practicing. 😉

…A soft autumn rain begins to fall beyond the open window. I chat a bit with my Traveling Partner. The scent of petrichor wafts into the room, filling the space with fragrant reminders that this too will pass. Summer is ending. The tightness in my chest and shoulders begins to diminish. My breathing becomes deeper as a smile starts to transform my face. I’m okay right now. I let my thoughts glide over my day gently, finding a kinder truth in tense moments that are now behind me. I listen deeply to my internal dialogue, pointing myself to a compassionate path, reconsidering human beings in the context of their humanity. Reminding myself to assume positive intent, each time I note that perhaps I had not done so. I take time, too, for gratitude; a lot of people came through for me today, in so many small ways. My smile feels pretty steady, and I feel pretty much at ease; the anxiety in the background is subtle now, less a plague and more a pimple. (…Maybe if I don’t fuck with it, it will clear up on its own?)

I listen to the traffic go by outside. The house is very near to the street, and the walls don’t keep out much noise. Right now it isn’t bothering me; I am aware of the open window. That makes a difference to me for some reason. The noise doesn’t matter. The smile matters more. This gentle moment matters more. Taking a little time to enjoy the moment matters more. Following through on moments and smiles may not save the world, but right now, in this moment, it’s enough. 🙂

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, medical marijuana, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

I’d Like to Understand More Than I Do

September 8, 2018 //
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It’s probably true for all of us, that we’d like to understand the world, our lives, the lives of others, much more than we really do – or ever could. We spend tons of time on “human interest stories” and posts and articles about other people’s lives and circumstances, seeking greater understanding of the human experience (or salacious titillation, which is, frankly, an unpleasant impulse ideally not indulged). It’s problematic, because, too often, it leads to becoming heavily emotionally invested in experiences that are not actually our own. Humans are fairly weird primates. lol

Our technology makes it very easy to “watch from afar”, distant connections, celebrities, neighbors, and even X’s and people who have walked on from where we now stand, making it clear they want no part of our bullshit any longer. Some people yield to that temptation, becoming obsessed with some other human to the detriment of their everyday lives. That’s mostly just sort of sad, really, I don’t know what to say about that… Let it go? Live life? Invest in what is actually yours? Enjoy or change what is within your own reach? Knock that dumb shit off? (Well, that last one there seems a bit rude, and insensitive, but… yeah; you don’t really have time for that kind of foolishness, we are mortal, life is finite, and there’s other shit to do. lol)

I know one or two folks who, even years later, still obsess about an ex to the point of madness. It’s hard to watch. I can’t call them “friends” of mine, to be clear; they don’t have time for friendship, they are far too busy with clinging, or plotting revenge, or grieving endlessly, to enjoy friendship, or even the simple pleasures of living life. It’s a weird place to spend one’s time, I think, but then again – I’ve chosen a different path. We each walk our own mile, paved with our own choices. We become what we practice, and are, unavoidably, generally speaking, one hundred percent a creature of our own making.

Our shittiest behavior becomes part of who we are. We will be recognized and described by those behaviors and choices.

Think about that. You are who you choose to be. You become whatever you choose to practice being. No kidding, even our worst “mistakes” as people are only “mistakes” that first time; once we’re called on our bullshit and told that our words or actions are objectionable, and we continue to make that choice? Now that shit is “on purpose”, even if not specifically willfully deliberate in the moment – unless of course we have some sort of mental illness, cognitive limitation, or challenge in life that specifically limits our rational agency and free will. What I’m saying is – we make choices. A lot of choices. Our choices are part of who we are, and say a lot about our character.

Choose wisely. The world is watching.

…Oh hey, just note; you’re going to fuck some shit up and make some terrible choices in life. It’s a human thing. Begin again. Do better. Keep practicing. It’s a long journey from here, wherever “here” is, to becoming the human being you most want to be… and fucking hell, there’s no map.

Ready? However bad things feel right now? It’s okay to begin again. 🙂

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words
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