Archives for category: Anxiety

Ouch.

June 4, 2013 //

8 days to 50…and today is actually pretty damned unpleasant so far. I woke from nightmares, groggy and drenched in sweat, before the alarm went off. The day seemed to begin well enough; a good latte and a sense of relief that nightmares are something I can wake up from isn’t a bad beginning. The morning shared with a partner seemed lovely…

Maybe it looks easy..but…

…the day is not idyllic. I’m frustrated. Struggling to communicate well. I feel discontented. I feel disappointed that I seem to suck so badly now at something I thought I was really good at, and wondering how it is that I ever managed to think I was good at it in the first place? I am ‘having a bad day’. Somehow the satisfaction of good work, skilled problem solving, and task completion is escaping me. I feel dissatisfied in spite of my efforts, in spite of my successes. Right now, only my failures seem to count for anything with me. I’m aggravated that I feel this way. Fucking hell – struggling to communicate, to connect, to feel joy in what is joyful to me, to feel valued and appreciated…I want very much to yield to ‘today sucks’, but I know it doesn’t have to be the day, even if it is the moment.

I am crying. I’m not sure how much that matters, really, aside from completely removing any chance of being able to communicate effectively. I can see sunshine outside through the patio door. Flowers nodding in the breezes as if to confirm that it is a lovely day… out there. (In here – meaning within my being – it is sucking rather a lot, today.) Some of this ‘growth’ stuff is pretty damned painful, and today it is hard to see the value. I sometimes feel very alone on this journey. Alone, and silenced.

I feel like ‘my inbox’ is piled high with things I need to master, work on, improve, succeed at, appreciate more, do better, understand more… and I feel like I’m not making any progress. At least, I feel that way today.

8 days…good thing it isn’t a deadline.

Tags communication skills, easier said than done, mindfulness, ptsd, relationships, TBI, the year of my discontent, work and life, you know it ain't easy

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Turning 50

Now is the Time

June 2, 2013 //

I have a strange relationship with Time. It begins in the morning of every new day, when I wake before my alarm goes off. I set it for 5am, but it rarely has a chance to go off, I usually wake minutes or seconds in advance, and shut it off. 4:58 am, 4:52 am, 4:46 am; never even a moment after 5am, even when my alarm is turned off for the weekend. Strangely, I don’t rely on that, and failing to be certain my alarm is set and turned on generally results in a night of restless sleep, waking again and again to check the time. I don’t set my alarm for an increment of time that isn’t on the hour, the half hour, or more rarely the quarter-hour. It seems pretty arbitrary and more a matter of habit or tradition than any rational choice about an ideal moment to wake.

Isn’t Time rather arbitrary, anyway? I mean, the math bits and science bits are certain to be important to someone, somewhere…but, my subjective experience with Time often finds me winding my way back to ‘why do I put myself through this when it seems so…imaginary?’ I don’t have a comfortable experience with Time. I rush myself, too often. I pile expectations of punctuality on my demands of myself that result in bitter emotional battles with myself, or others, over some occasion of minor lateness – in the face of a lifetime of time-based brutality directed at myself. I’m rarely late by my own actions; it freaks me out. When circumstances or people ‘make me late’ I’ve been known to unleash an amount of emotion and temper that is most easily described as ‘desperate and enraged’ – an unpleasant combination. I’m sure the origins of my troubled relationship with Time is lost in the darkness of ancient pain, and a lovely Sunday doesn’t yield to further exploration. Not right now, when I’m having such a good time. 🙂

This morning I was thinking about alarm clocks, agendas, and time and those thoughts resurfaced later while I was meditating. I suddenly felt so aware of something I’ve fought for so long… the only time I really benefit from concerning myself with is…now. Well, hell… I have time for that. 😉

…some metaphor about time…

Tags alarm clocks, be here now, it's getting better all the time, make time, mindfulness, more time, no time like the present, perspective, spend time, the hands of time, time enough, time is running out, timing, use time, waste time

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, Turning 50

Another Attack by The Brain

May 24, 2013 //

I woke ‘too early’, though I suppose it’s never too early to spend pleasant moments with a lover…only, I am alone now, with my coffee, impatiently watching the clock to head to my Friday appointment.

The morning started wonderfully well, then took a detour through ancient pain through the wonders of human communication and all it’s grand potential to have pitfalls and consequences. Now I am withstanding the nearly inevitable attack on myself from within that so often follows dialogue that even brushes past damage…and this morning was more like ripping off a scab by mistake, because it looked like a bit of nothing-or-other to be brushed away.

I am feeling frustrated, on a couple levels, and incredibly angry ‘with the world’… which I think may be more accurately described as ‘angry with people who hurt me long ago’. It is the heart of my struggle with anger. This anger is largely unresolved, unaddressed, and ever-present, the sort of thing no one in my here/now experience deserves directed at them, and without any hope of being addressed with the appropriate individuals. I have the perception it must surely be the most vile and horrific expression of terrible rage ever in humanity’s history with anger, too, because as soon as it ever begins to come up, everyone around me immediately moves to do or say whatever it takes to shut it down. I have a lifetime of experience that says to me that my anger is unacceptable. I try and try to deal with it alone, and I suck at it in a most extraordinary way, I admit.

We each have our challenges and issues. I doubt mine are truly unique, and there are women who have and will suffer worse, more, and longer. I have survived some nasty shit. Broken, but perhaps not beyond repair, frustrated, but loved…things are better than they were, but god damn, I am so tired – fatigued – from continuously working to address first one bit of damage, then another, with a frequent experience that feels a bit like scrubbing a huge expanse of floor, and just when I take a moment to appreciate the work well done, someone walks up and says (in a totally well-meaning way) “you missed a spot”. It’s frustrating…almost seems like the floor just keeps getting bigger.

Am I just bitching? Maybe…I am still headache-y, and feeling disappointed that I have challenges getting the emotional support I need…but a great deal of that is likely tied to my lack of skill at asking for what I need. Harder still to communicate that some particular thing is very important to me, especially when I have my own doubts that it makes sense, or what I need from the moment as a result.

I don’t feel well understood this morning, and something I was trying to communicate got swept aside for something else also important… I feel lonely and not well cared-for, right now, which has me doubting… so many things. That is the nature of this morning’s brain attack: doubt. My rational mind ‘knows’ this doubt and depressed bit of morning is illusory (thank you mindfulness!)… the feelings are what they are, just feelings.

How do I tell a lover that all I really want is a few minutes with strong comforting arms around me, and reassuring words while I cry really hard for just a few minutes, when I have so much trouble acknowledging it for myself?

Friday’s experience is brought to you by trauma, damage, and a will to survive… There’s hope for the day, yet; I got an early start.

Tags history and habits, love, mindfulness, ptsd, relationships, surviving sexual trauma, TBI

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Metaphors, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Rape, Relationships, Turning 50

Good-bye, Old Friend

May 23, 2013 //

So many metaphors…hard to choose just one. (detail from “Anxiety” 2011)

I’m saying good-bye to an old friend.

A steady rain falls this morning, like a lifetime of tears falling in a day; the sort of respectable rainfall that farmers count on, and that quickly turns a pleasant walk into a test of endurance. I like rain. I especially like rain from a warm, dry vantage point with a hot cup of coffee. I’ve got my coffee, the rain, and if I want to reach into my heart and touch something that hurts, I have my share of tears, too. I also have a headache. The headache is part of this particular good-bye.

You see, after more than a decade, I am finally saying good-bye to prescription anxiety medication. Aside from this headache, and a few somewhat surreal days, it hasn’t been too difficult. I was most concerned about some potential that I’d suddenly be taken over by the level of anxiety that was my everyday experience before I embraced Big Pharm’s tempting sales pitch. A decade is a long time to take a drug, and I’m not surprised that the experience of withdrawing from it is more profound than the assurances and platitudes the literature provides; nearly all the research I’ve been able to access is based on clinical trials of short-term use (6-8 weeks), and none of it is based on a decade or more of continuous use. Actions have consequences. A decade is a long time to take a drug. There is too much information available, and a lot of recent reporting, regarding how business interests have resulted in a substantial amount of medical research being suppressed, or actually manipulated for a desired outcome, and similar sorts of things that frankly scare the hell out of me every time I look in my medicine cabinet. I’m painfully aware, too, that doctors are people, not gods, and just as prone to fraud, deceit, greed, error and simple incompetence as anyone else. I am serious about embracing a genuine experience of who I am – of being myself. Really being myself. So, the time had come to back up my recent progress with real trust that my experience is improved, and that I am more whole than I had been, and am capable of continuing to grow and improve my experience, and heal my ancient hurts. I decided to take care of me in a different way. Big Pharm didn’t fix my issues, and couldn’t – they had 10 years to make it happen. lol. My turn. For real. I’m learning, healing, growing…and I am happy to see 50 without having to take mind-altering drugs to endure my experience, pacify my fears, or ‘make me presentable’ for the rest of the world. The headache today is worth it.

…not going to dwell on it… (detail of ‘Broken’ 2012)

I’m still human. I still feel anxiety. I still have things to work on, to work out, to understand more clearly. I have more to learn. I still have PTSD, and I’m still learning new skills for managing that experience more effectively. I still have a TBI, and I’m finally learning things that address that part of my experience directly, and that matters more than I ever know how to describe.

There’s always another lesson in life’s curriculum, isn’t there? My morning thoughts and contemplation are interrupted. I am finding that my concentration is limited for now, as I say good-bye to this ‘old friend’. I’m not sorry to see it go. But it is a complicated good-bye.

…each having our own experience. (detail of “Emic” 2012)

It is sometime later, now. The serenity of the morning didn’t last, and while that is disappointing, I’m finding that I am ok, myself. Anxiety is what it is, and I’m ok. My own experience, right now, right here, is one of relative calm; concerned, aware, and finding significant perspective in the beauty of a rainy day, and the many shades of green I see. Some experiences have more value than others, and for the moment a rainy day trumps anxiety and ‘what if’ scenarios.

Respect…consideration…compassion…reciprocity…openness…my ‘Big 5’ only look easy on paper. I’m finding that getting there is still a destination, and the journey requires an everyday commitment to mindful choices, and awareness. I want it to be easy. I accept that both effort and will are required; this is not about easy.

I’m tired and my head aches. That’s worth it, too. I’m giving myself my self for my 50th birthday.

“Who am I? Wait…I had something for this…” (detail of ‘Kronos’ 2002)

Tags I'm not a superhero, it's a verb, learning to swim, mindfulness, perspective, turning 50

Categories Anxiety, Art, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Turning 50, Uncategorized, women

Rain

May 18, 2013 //

I woke early this morning. It was uneventful, and mostly due to my failure to shut off my alarm clock the night before. I enjoyed the luxury of loitering in bed, wrapped up on warm blankets, enjoying the freedom to daydream, and muse about what matters to me. I further enjoyed the freedom to let my thoughts be on their way when I was sufficiently entertained, rather than getting caught up in a moment of distress, or allowing myself to succumb to some attack on my serenity from lurking personal demons. Eventually, morning won over additional sleep, and I have enjoyed watching the dawn unfold gently through the windows, thinking about my upcoming birthday, my life, my loves, my values, my needs, my humanity, my will, my intentions, my desires… it has been a very think-y morning.

I got done with that, soon enough. Since then, I’ve been sipping my latte and watching a misty rain gradually develop into quite a rainy morning, a drenching Oregon downpour, in fact, of the sort that defines our reputation for changeable wet weather. I love the rain. I rarely feel anything but soothed and peaceful on rainy days, and that has been part of who I am since I can remember.

“…Since I can remember…” I can’t always, you know. My memory has been crap-tastic, also ‘since I can remember’. That’s the TBI making one of its contributions to my experience, most likely. Almost 50 (25 days to go) and headed for menopause, and being an artist, people in my life tend to accept the memory issues in a matter of fact way – it was by far more awkward and embarrassing in my 20s, when I was regularly accused of ‘not paying attention’, ‘not caring’, or ‘lying about not remembering’. That would be one of the many reasons I’m quite happy not to be in my 20s anymore! lol

My birthday means more to me than makes any sense to me… 50 really seems like a big deal. I mentioned it to a friend who is older and she smiled at me with the patience of a mother looking at the simple progress her child makes growing up; tolerant, understanding, compassionate, and from an entirely different perspective in life. I wonder if, at 70, 50 will still seem like it was a big deal? I also wonder why we tend to be so committed to a base 10 number system – so much so that we tend to benchmark our ‘decades’ as somehow more significant than other divisions of time on our lifeline… I mean… 14 was damned important to me… so was 5… and 11… 27… 9…32…40…47…clearly not all about 10s. Just a random musing on a rainy Saturday.

Someone dear to me hurt me incredibly deeply, recently. My heart still aches with it. The conflict between that person’s values and my own seems to stand out like a an Exit sign in a dark corridor. It’ll have to be discussed at some point, because it is the sort of thing that matters, and speaks to the core of who I am as a being. I find myself touching the moment gently, tenderly, in my recollection and wondering ‘was that it, was that the end of a friendship?’ Not something to be taken lightly, at all. Something to ponder carefully. I consider it, and let it go for now.

The rain falls, the household wakes… time to enjoy a rainy Saturday. 🙂

Tags birthdays, openness, quiet tension, relationships, small hurts, turning 50, values

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, Turning 50, women, Words

Ouch.

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Now is the Time

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Another Attack by The Brain

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Good-bye, Old Friend

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Rain

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