Archives for category: Anxiety

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.

Mere hours later, I’m working through tears on a shitty gray rainy day wondering why the fuck I even bother to try. Emotional weather. Stormy. Rainy. Disappointing. Gray. On top of it, my coffee tastes like shit, and it’s hard to see my computer screen through all the fucking tears. Fucking humans, man. The pointless bullshit and struggling and chaos and damage are a big fucking buzzkill.

…None of this changes the meaning or value of the words I wrote earlier this morning, I just “can’t feel it” right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that it’ll pass, through the tears, and in spite of the shitty cup of coffee. What went wrong? Doesn’t matter. Human bullshit, mostly my own. Not all of it, but mostly. Can’t do anything about anyone else’s crap – that’s their own to wade through and deal with. I’ve got mine. More than enough to have to manage. The fucking tears though – I did not need this. Fortunately, most of my meetings are virtual meetings through Zoom or Google, and I can turn my camera off, and did (although usually I don’t, so it still ends up being a potential “tell” of something being amiss).

I try not to over think things. I try to let small shit stay small. I try to let go of my bullshit and baggage. I drink my shitty cup of coffee and reflect on it as a metaphor for this shitty moment.

Next I’ll work on beginning again.

I started the day lost in my head. It’s fine. Strange dreams. Woke feeling like maybe I’m getting a cold? Maybe not. I get the morning started, get the commute going. I end up at work much sooner than I expected, though I subjectively feel as though I “left at the usual time”? I was definitely not speeding… but the rainy weather dominated my attention, and I barely noticed how few red lights stopped me this morning. Consistent often beats “fast”. I shrug it off, set up my laptop, and make coffee. Still lost in my own head, my coffee goes cold before I ever taste it. Wild. What a weird morning.

I finally open a new window to start a bit of writing before work… I stare out the window watching the darkness slowly transition to daybreak without typing a word. Lost in thought, but without recollection. A bit like meaning to record something, but forgetting to hit “record”. Strange morning. Strange thoughts. I teeter on the edge of fatigue and alertness.

…Somehow I’ve got to start this day…

I quaff some of this cold coffee. Same coffee beans, same machine, same process of making coffee as with yesterday… this cup is not bad at all, in spite of having gone entirely cold before I got around to drinking it. It’s fine.

I sit awhile longer. Just… sitting with my random thoughts. Nothing of consequence. I’m not “happy”, “sad”, or even “indifferent”. I am, more than anything else, at least at this moment, an “empty vessel”. Like a pitcher with an unnoticed hole in the bottom, I pour my thoughts into my attention but they don’t accumulate into anything useful, they just leak right on out. lol

I take a deep breath. Pull myself upright. I’m completely out of two necessary prescriptions; the Rx’s expired without my noticing, between refills. Fucking hell. I’ll have to 1. phone them in and 2. go directly into the actual VA pharmacy and get the attention of an actual human being and make a case for filling them in person and giving them directly to me. Their system is not set up for veterans with any sort of cognitive, behavioral, or mental health issues at all. It’s almost as if they don’t actually care. I sigh out loud. I just don’t even want to think about it, deal with it, or… you know… do the thing. Fuck. I would very much like to just have the option of putting all my Rx’s onto some sort of automated process, as I have been able to do with recurring bills, you know? Easier. Better for me. Better results. Consistency.

I finally think to start a music playlist. The first track startles me out of my peculiar reverie and I feel myself begin to “come unstuck” (in a good way). Words begin to hit the page, and I end up… here. And it’s already time to begin again.

I hit the lottery on terrible coffee this morning. This cup is bad. Insipid. Poor flavor. Too hot to safely drink. It was made in a relatively fancy grind-to-order coffee machine in the office, and the beans in the hopper are generally of good quality and quite fresh. So…? Damn, are these actual grounds in my coffee, too? Blech. Interesting follow-up to a nearly effortless not-quite-actually-fun commute spent quietly driving while lost in thought, enjoying the lack of traffic. Fuck this is a terrible actually noteworthily bad cup of coffee. The Army makes better coffee. Reliably. lol

I sigh, and sip my coffee. Considering the state of the world, I’m fortunate to have freshly ground coffee beans and hot coffee, at all. If this small detail is my “top of mind” complaint, this morning, it’s a pretty good day, eh? I breathe and contemplate perspective for a while.

I look out onto the city from the office windows, before I start the work day. The high-rise condo tower across the park has more lights than usual, lit up with holiday lights, and Christmas trees in windows. Pretty. Down in the park itself, the trees are decked out in winter lights, and there are wreathes hung along the barrier wall that runs down one side. Also quite pretty. Festive. Day break is awhile away, yet, and there is no hint of sunrise-to-come peaking at me in the reflections of office windows. Not yet. It’s dark, and it’s early. It’s quiet in the office, and I’m alone here. The only sound is the hushed woosh of the heating, and the tappa-tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Peaceful.

I frown into my absolutely terrible coffee that I’m nonetheless fortunate to have, and for which I am grateful, and wonder why human beings are so loathe to embrace peace? What makes us such ridiculously unrepentantly violent creatures so willing to excuse heinous acts against other human beings? If you think you’ve got what it takes to shake your head, reject that notion, and say “well, not me…”, I’ve got to ask you what your personal position is on genocide? How about immigration? School shootings? Police brutality? Prison labor? Honor killings? “Crimes of passion”? Femicide? That asshole who pissed you off in traffic? As a species, we’re barely fucking housebroken, let alone “domesticated”, or “civilized”. We make more time to justify our individual wrong-headedness and bad acts than we do actually making an effort to create a society that supports and betters all humankind while also minimizing the “collateral damage” to the rest of the creatures and the ecosystem we’ve all got to share. We’re way into “us vs them” bullshit. I sigh outloud and sip my coffee. My seasonally timely seeming musings don’t get me anywhere, really. Just thoughts over coffee that inevitably lead me back to the question I begin most of my days with, “how can I do better today to be the woman I most want to be, than I did yesterday?” My results vary.

I feel a somewhat cynical smile on my face. I recommit to an “easy win”; today I won’t kill anyone, won’t break anything, won’t do any damage (where I can recognize that likely outcome), and I won’t act in anger against another creature, or destroy property. Seems easy enough. I pass most of my days in this fashion. I feel a latent vague anger seething in the background; it just doesn’t seem hard to choose to refrain from violence, and yet… there is so much of it in the world. Another sigh. Another sip of coffee. Another beginning.

I think back on the weekend. I spent it hanging out with (and doing things for) my Traveling Partner, while he continues to recover from an injury. He’s rarely injured, and being even somewhat incapacitated (or at all limited) really frustrates him and causes him stress and anxiety. I often tend to exist in a state of chronic injury, or recovery from some recent new injury, or concerned about not aggravating some old injury, and thus tend sometimes to be overly complacent about the discomfort and pain of being injured, or just puzzled about how maddening it can be to have to slow everything to a near halt just to let something heal. Just sit still and wait, right? I forget there are things to do about it. I guess I’m not wholly convinced that it matters to try – which is a problem of a different sort, and I give myself time to think about that, too.

In spite of being injured, my Traveling Partner makes me a cool stand for bananas so they don’t just sit on the counter or go bad in a bowl. It delights me that he thought to do so, and I feel very loved. I pushed myself pretty hard to stay caught up on as much of the routine shit that he’d ordinarily handle to keep things tidy and cared for. It wasn’t a particularly restful or recreational weekend, and I begin the new week pretty fatigued already, but there’s another one coming – it’s just days away. lol

“Giftmas” is almost here! The tree twinkles merrily, but there’s nothing much under it this year. Something for me, something for him, something for us; it’s enough. My Traveling Partner already has his gift(s) which I gave to him early as a combined birthday/Giftmas, and as a result, he’s already made me several things (like that banana stand) that I’m already using. He 3D printed me a very cool model to build over the Giftmas weekend, too. I’m excited about the weekend together, and the holiday, even without a stack of gifts under the tree, and yeah, also knowing that I really haven’t done anything to fill stockings, either. This one is low-key, and planned to be quite, intimate, and chill. More about presence, than presents. I’m okay with that. I feel very loved, and this life we share is a good one.

I’ve almost finished this terrible cup of coffee. The sky is now a sort of bluish-gray, poised between daybreak and sunrise, hinting at a rainy day ahead. My head aches. My arthritis pain is something like a 6 on a 1 through 10 scale. My email inbox is empty, and my calendar is mostly empty. I guess it’s time to begin again…