Yesterday it rained. All day a lovely misty rain fell, after a drenching downpour during the wee hours. The day was a bit more humid than is typical here. The temperature stayed mild, neither hot nor chilly. Each time I ventured out, I was hit with the kisses of tiny raindrops that enveloped me in dampness almost instantly. The sky was gray, all day. It felt more like an autumn day than anything to do with the end of summer. Autumn is almost here.
I’ve got a short solo camping trip planned for the Autumnal Equinox. I’m looking forward to it. I had planned this one before I was laid off. I kept it on the calendar in spite of the lay-off, figuring it was basically already paid for (other than the cost of gas to get there and back), and I’d benefit from the break in routine whether working or not. Once I was laid off, there was no conflict with work to think about at all. Now… I’m back to work beginning next Tuesday, after the Labor Day holiday weekend. Now, the timing is… less than ideal, being so soon after I start the new job. I’m fortunate to have a boss who is 100% supportive of living life, and enjoying it, and I’ll still be going camping. 😀 Funny how quickly circumstances (and context) can change.
…I find myself distracted by the recollection that the office of the company I’m joining is located sort of nearby a different place I once worked, and I look up the address on the internet, and mentally plan the drive in on Tuesday (for onboarding, and picking up my work laptop). I’m excited about this job, way beyond the commonplace relief of not being unemployed… I’m really looking forward to joining the team, and working with this group of people that has so many familiar faces. I feel… enthusiastic. 😀 It’s lovely to feel that way about work. I sip my coffee and smile to myself, looking out the window to the gray sky and fluffy autumnal clouds beyond.
I take a moment to savor the feelings I feel right now. I let the words for the feelings land softly in my thoughts: joyful, contented, at ease, eager, enthusiastic, hopeful, purposeful, valued, appreciated, grateful, delighted, satisfied, happy, pleased, energized, committed, encouraged, prepared, ready… I sip my coffee enjoying the complexity and nuance of overlapping and intersecting positive emotions. I find myself wondering why, as human beings and as a society, we don’t spend more time explicitly savoring and reflecting upon the many sorts of positive emotions we possess the ability to feel? How often do we ever truly feel just one singular emotion standing alone in our consciousness, entirely defining our experience? Is joy mixed with hope a different experience than joy mixed with delight? What about a feeling of preparedness mixed with enthusiasm – is that different than a feeling of preparedness mixed with contentment? As the feelings mingle, do they evolve into some wholly new emulsion of emotion for which I lack language, or do they remain individual elements stacked upon one another, like oil and water?
It’s a lovely quiet morning, heading into the long Labor Day weekend. I feel like celebrating. I know it’s time to begin again. 😀
I slept poorly last night. Restless dreams, wakefulness, and frequently having to get up to pee, along with being in pain, made for a difficult night. My Traveling Partner woke up in a shitty mood, in pain, and cross with me as his default approach. Not my favorite way to start a day. I dressed and headed out as soon as I woke. “Later” will be soon enough to return home, hopefully some time after my partner has had his coffee, done some yoga and stretching, and taken whatever he can to manage his pain and allergies.
I’m sitting on a fence rail next to a marshy expanse of still water favored by all manner of water birds. There is seasonality to the view. I enjoy this quiet place, although on weekends it is often crowded with bird-watchers and camera nerds. It’s a nice place for perspective.
God damn, it would suck if this otherwise beautiful relationship were to fail over our inability to sleep in the same place. I think about that briefly. Tears well up, and I brush them away. We’re not there yet and there are still things to try. My sleep study got moved up from mid-August to… tomorrow. I’m not exactly excited, just hoping something helpful comes of it.
A woman and child walk past me. I hear the child ask “Mommy, why does that lady look sad?”, and the woman’s kind careful reply “Sometimes being a grown up is hard honey. It makes Mommy sad sometimes, too.” For real, Lady, you’re so right. Sorry, Kiddo, it’s not always easy.
I sit quietly awhile. No plan. Just stillness. I check the hours for the pharmacy near home in order to time my return such that I can pick something up for my Traveling Partner. I try to do enough sweet things, kind things, helpful things to offset the unpleasantness of our shared challenges. It’s not “enough”, but it is at least something. I find myself making a silent promise to refrain from talking about my own pain, and fatigue, and stress, and anxiety… Hoping to be more easily able to make room for my partner to feel heard, even if I can’t do much about it. Again, it’s not everything, it’s just something.
… I have to trust that after 13 years together he does understand that I am chronically struggling with pain, myself, and that he has the affection for me and the emotional intelligence to hold space for that awareness day-to-day, in spite of his own pain and fatigue. That’s hard sometimes. It can be a very “fuck your pain, what about mine?!” kind of world sometimes. I think I can do better… But how best to do better without being a dick to myself and undermining my own emotional wellness? It’s a puzzle.
… Sometimes being a grown up is hard, and it makes me sad…
I think about a dear friend tearing up a bit as we discussed age, aging, and the inevitable loneliness of feeling “cast aside”. Fucking hell, that is some real shit. Sometimes being grown up is hard. I watch a small flock of birds take flight, appearing to chase a larger bird. They don’t pay me any attention at all. I’m not part of their experience.
We’re each walking our own path. No map. Sometimes we get lucky on the journey and have some companionship along the way for some distance. It’s not a given that we will, and ultimately we’re in this alone, regardless how or whether we surround ourselves with people or creatures. These are individual journeys. Nonetheless, we’re also all in it together. It’s a puzzle. I remind myself to try to be kind. Always.
Sometimes the things we need to do aren’t easy. Humans do some amazing things, from truly enormous undertakings like building a civilization – or raising children who grow to be competent, wise, adults – to small things like going to work on a Tuesday and coming safely home. Sometimes the truly complicated things we take on practically coast toward an amazing seemingly effortless wildly successful finish. Sometimes the simplest practical endeavor seems beyond our abilities. Real. True. Human.
Yesterday, I got that flat tire from over the weekend repaired. I felt fortunate that it was repairable – I didn’t need to replace all 4 tires on my AWD vehicle. I happily got into my car this morning and went on in to work on a very typical Tuesday (which I’ve been doing in a co-work space these days). Totally the routine, ordinary thing. Only…
I did just make pretty significant changes to the medications I take. Not just adding a new one – I added two. Not only that, my doctor changed the dosage on one I’ve taken for a decade without a change. Not enough change? I also needed to change the timing on that one so that it did not conflict with one of the new ones in a weird way. So, okay. My meds are all switched up, and I need to give myself some patience while I get used to all that. Sounds reasonable. Hell, the effect on my physical and emotional experiences are very much improved in most regards – which is great news! Here’s the thing, though, one of the changes seems to be having – at least for now – an “unintended consequence”; I feel more relaxed and chill moment-to-moment and have the subjective perception that I am, indeed, more “relaxed” and comfortable, and my partner seems to (generally) find me easier to be around… but… I have much less emotional “runway” from the moment I become impatient or annoyed with something and when that impatience or annoyance overcomes my (very) limited ability to provide “top down” control of my reaction. I feel fussy, and I’ve got a short-fuse, and I honestly have a very limited capacity to “deal with shit”. So… there’s that. On top of the changes. I mean – it’s part of those changes, but it’s a part I hope fades as I sort myself out on the new meds. (If you can, try to hold on to what I’ve said about where I’m at, for just a little longer.)
My work day was a good one. I feel valued and appreciated. I walked away from my work at the end of the day, headed to the bank to run an errand for my Traveling Partner (well, in support of his new business, so, yeah). No problem; he was crazy busy receiving a shipment in several packages (also business). Cool, cool. No big. I’ve got the room in my day to do it. About half-way there, I felt very much that the car was not handling the way I expected it to, though I had some trouble putting my finger on quite what was going on with that. As I passed the tire place I’d spent part of my morning at yesterday, I thought to myself “maybe I should ask them to check that tire they replaced…?” I pulled in to the bank parking lot less than a mile further on, eager to be done with the day’s work and headed home to hang out with my partner. As I parked, the “check tire pressure” light came on – again.
Wait… a different tire is flat??
I got out of the car hearing a hissing sound that was pretty loud and turned to look. Flat tire. Fucking hell – seriously?? I felt my entire body tense up. My jaw clenched. I felt my body begin the first changes that signal an incoming panic attack or hysterics. I took a breath, then another. I called my partner and told him I had a flat – another flat. I told him, feeling almost desperate and very much “on the edge”, that I wasn’t even a mile from the tire place! I wondered if I should “just drive it over” but that tire was already even flatter than when I first looked at it. Shit. I can’t drive on that. He confirmed and reminded me “they have a truck” and suggested I call them. So, sure, okay. That makes sense. My stress level immediately dropped. Wow. Real progress and change. This works! I phoned the tire place and they assured me they’d get someone over right away. I went into the bank, and rescheduled the appointment I had (it wasn’t urgent, just needful, and I had had that time available). I settled myself down for the wait…
Is that a fucking knife??
As I waited, I looked closer at the pictures – then at the actual tire. My Traveling Partner had noticed first, and I admit, I was skeptical, but yeah… that looks like a knife broken off in my tire. What the hell?? How did that happen? This is not that kind of community. I don’t live that kind of life or keep company with folks inclined toward this sort of violence… wild. What the hell? “Weird spot on the tire for that sort of thing… wouldn’t that take a lot of force?” I thought to myself.
I made it safely to the tire place after their truck showed up and reinflated the tire. It was only a half mile drive, but I could feel the tire “softening” as I drove, and I cursed the rush hour traffic under my breath, fearful that I wouldn’t make it before the car was rolling on the rim. I did get there before that happened, but minutes after I parked the car, that tire was entirely flat once more. I’m glad I wasn’t doing any freeway driving!
The tire folks were pleasant, efficient, and brought me the bit of metal that punctured my tire. Sure enough – it is the snapped off end of someone’s no-longer-very-useful Gerber knife. The tip was quite gone, though, and the tire technician pointed that out and also the thickness and sturdiness of the metal generally; it seemed unlikely it was a hostile act. More likely, he suggested, it was a bit of debris fallen from a trash truck or work truck that I ran over. He suggested the front tire might have popped it up, making it more likely to pierce the rear tire, and becoming embedded, then driven-in as I drove on, unaware. Seemed reasonable. They put an appropriate “loaner” tire on the car and ordered a replacement. I am grateful that the minimal wear on the tires made that feasible at all. I’ll go back tomorrow or Thursday, when the proper replacement is in, and they’ll put that on and rebalance my tires and I’ll be on my way. Fine.
It just doesn’t seem like “all that” now…
…but…
I got home. I brought burgers. We relaxed until a neighbor came around with some work my partner had offered to finish tonight, and he took off to do that, and returned a bit later. Somewhere along the way, I don’t know, I just … finally didn’t have anything left resilience-wise, and a handful of interactions later, and I just could not maintain the facade of doing my best. I mean… I guess that was all I had left “doing my best-wise”, in spite of fancy new medication, and improvements in self-care. I just wasn’t able to accommodate even one more critical observation of any sort, however well-intended or legitimately helpful. I managed not to lose my temper, but my frustration was growing more evident by the minute, and I found myself no longer willing to wrestle my emotions into compliance. I just wanted to be left alone with my problematic experience for a little while. I found myself needing a lot of nurturing and emotional support – way beyond what would be a reasonable ask – and just gave in to being alone with my bullshit for a little while.
So many times we fail to be kind to each other when we’re “going through changes” – it isn’t easy. Even something like changing the timing on just one prescription, depending on what it is and what it does, can have profound effects on our emotional resilience, ability to manage our mood, our executive functions (or disfunctions), or our experience of the world around us. (Don’t be a dick to people – you may not know what they are going through.) (While you’re at it – don’t be a dick to yourself, you definitely do know what you’re going through, and you could use a break from your own bullshit.)
I’ve got a mug of very excellent drinking chocolate. There’s soft holiday-ish jazz playing in the background. My pain is decently well-managed, and the mild vertigo I woke with this morning has dissipated. It was actually quite an excellent work day, and I’m making room in my awareness to really savor that. My Traveling Partner has a lot going on this week, and I admire his ability to balance all of that with… all of me. It can’t be easy. (I’m annoyed by the feeling that if I try to say that to him right now, instead of “thanks for understanding”, I’ll get a short lecture from him on why it isn’t easy, instead, and I’m irked with myself for letting that hold me back.)
…I’m still holding back tears, but I think they’re just an artifact of the ups and downs of the day I’ve had, and an expression of frustration and fatigue, and the complexity of changing my medications. It’ll pass… or I’ll cry myself to sleep later. Either way, tomorrow is a new day, and I can begin again.
The prompt on this blank page suggests I share 5 of my favorite things. Thanks, I’ll pass. lol I mean, I could, but haven’t I got a mind of my own? Thoughts of my own? A direction of my own to take this “conversation”? I’ve got my ubiquitous cup of coffee beside me – a treat, in this case, an eggnog latte. 😀 (These ridiculous things have has many calories as an entire meal, so I don’t have them often, in spite of the holiday seasonality creating false scarcity that tends to suggest to me I should have them as often as I can. lol There’s something to learn from this…)
It’s very early. I woke ahead of my alarm, but I don’t know what woke me. Whatever it was likely also woke my Traveling Partner. As I dressed quietly in another room, he got up and came to see what I was doing (…um… getting dressed to make an early, quiet, departure as we’d discussed the night before…?). He went back to bed, curiosity satisfied. (And shortly after I had departed, sent me emoji kisses and let me know he was awake, after all. So much for him being able to sleep in!) I quietly got my things together for a new work day (and week) and headed to the co-work space I frequent, and here I now am; set up and ready to begin the work day after I’ve had my coffee and done some writing. 😀
I don’t really feel much like writing on a theme this morning. Nothing much to troubleshoot of my day-to-day experience. I remind myself to make a follow-up appointment with my G.P. now that my lab results are back. I think ahead to dinner, and take a moment to regret with some amusement that I forgot to bring my lunch today – and Tuesdays are mostly meetings through the midday – hard to walk away at “lunch time”! My mind wanders through thoughts and ideas the way my fingers dance across the keyboard. I’m not yet entirely awake, I suspect. Still working on this first luscious cup of coffee, excessively creamy and smooth compared to the clean bite of a properly made Americano or pour-over served black. The morning feels vaguely celebratory. It was a lovely long weekend, and in general I’ve got what I need in life and then some. I’m honestly still not entirely used to that. There are moments when I find myself “waiting for the other shoe to drop” in a most peculiar way that likely isn’t at all healthy – just very human.
I think about a recent email from a friend (responding to an email I sent over Thanksgiving). I feel fortunate to have so many very good friends. I’ve got a fair few long-standing friendships of many years endurance that I cherish. There are others that are perhaps somewhat less close as the years pass, and I’m delighted when such friends also allow the years to melt away when we again connect. It’s nice. I enjoy my friends. We don’t spend much time together in each others actual company these days; life has blown us hither and thither and the big get-togethers that once characterized some of these associations have either slowly discontinued over time – or I’ve simply gotten too far away to easily attend, myself. Funny where life takes us. I still think fondly of those gatherings and the many friends I’ve made over the years (although I am admittedly really pretty bad at staying in touch). I add an item to my to-do list, “email friends”, and another “do some snail mail”. I enjoy making hand-made cards and writing letters in ink.
The office music this morning is holiday music. A rather glum version of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” tinkles away in the background, strangely grim and suggestive of spooky doings in the night far more than gifts under the tree. LOL
Yesterday, unexpectedly, I found myself feeling rather blue and specifically about the holidays. So many family members gone now. Friends, too. Moments that could once be shared with joy are now nostalgic touch-points, poignant and wistful and sometimes hard to bring up. I am disconnected from most of “my generation” of family, far flung lives that don’t intersect mine anymore that continue somewhere… “out there”. I wonder who my cousins have grown to become? Where life has taken them? Most of the familial sources of early-life trauma (in my life) have died. We are mortal creatures. I was surprised to note, when I did, that their passing did not immediately ease the lasting damage done. I remember being supremely annoyed by that at the time. It’s less interesting as observations go, where I stand today. Doesn’t stop me from wishing I could show them how far I have come in spite of them. I’m not sure that’s really a healthy thing, though, and I guess I’m okay with letting that go. (What choice do I have? It’s tough to schedule a meeting with the dead. LOL)
…What a lovely quiet morning…
…Good coffee…
I pause writing for a few minutes to read the news. It’s the usual dreck. I set it aside and sip my coffee; it’s starting to cool down and this particular coffee beverage is fairly off-putting once it is no longer hot. I’m not inclined to rush it along, just making a point to savor it at its best. 🙂
It’s not really time to start work, yet. I mean… I could, but I am not expected to do so at this early hour. The morning is a mild one, although chilly, and I decide to get a walk in along our “main street”, a good opportunity to enjoy the holiday lights without dealing with crowded sidewalks. 😀 A nice way to begin the day, too…
It’s a good Saturday morning. I’m listening to Megan Thee Stallion reminding me to be who I am without fear or shame. Easier to do when my anxiety isn’t a major problem, and my pain is well-managed. Today is a pretty good day. My recent doctor’s appointment was… surprisingly productive? Better than typical? I feel… hopeful. I’m also on new medication (not even a psych med intended directly for my anxiety, it’s a beta blocker that addresses some of the symptoms that follow prolonged chronic anxiety like my blood pressure). I’m pleased that it is, so far, actually helping – it’s even obvious to both me and to my Traveling Partner. We’re comfortably hanging out again without triggering each other, and without him seeming actually “allergic to me”. It’s super encouraging when medicine works.
It was important for me to be able to give my doctor an opportunity to treat me. To be open to change and to success – and sometimes that’s a more complicated detail than I am aware of. Learned helplessness over time, frustration with prior failures, anger and frustration, these can all get in the way of treatment (whether for physical or emotional ailments). I went to that appointment way more prepared for more frustration and failure than to communicate openly and honestly with my physician, and to be clear and purposeful in that communication. I got a lucky break by way of my relationship with my Traveling Partner. He was rather unpleasantly insistent that I specifically communicate some details to my doctor that he felt were especially relevant from his perspective. I could have dismissed that; my body, my doctor, my health & treatment! The thing is, though, he was on to something – I tend to minimize my own health concerns. It’s a long-standing bad habit developed during military service. “Go hard.” “Be strong.” “You’re a fighter.” “Don’t be a pussy.” “Endure and adapt.” I mean, that’s all fine for soldiers heading into a deployment, but, um, less than ideal in one’s relationship with a physician seeking to develop a good treatment plan for legitimate health concerns, for fucks’ sake. So. In spite of some internal resistance, I made a list. I literally read it off to my doctor, and answered her questions about each item. It was a tad comical, I found, but… I’m also on a new medication we’d never discussed previously, got a bunch of new lab work done (and have a plan to also adjust my thyroid medication based on the outcome of some of those tests), got a referral for a CT scan of my head (looking your way 8-year-headache – we’re coming for you!), and further, even got her wholehearted support of also treating my anxiety more directly (and a commitment to reach out to the clinician supporting that appointment, which is next week, to confirm which options are a good fit for the new medication).
I’m feeling myself this morning. I feel self-assured, comfortable in my skin, and happy to be who I am in this moment. Cardi B “gets it”. I’m not wealthy. Not focused on money all that much. It’s the wholesome (and obvious) confidence that resonates with me. When I am the woman I most want to be, I’m not mired in doubt – I know me. That’s what I want for myself, like, all the time; to rest comfortably in a sense of myself. Self-doubt is an insidious poison. I grin when She turns up in my playlist. I love the confidence of these women. I find myself thinking back to a younger version of the woman in the mirror… I wonder where Megan Thee Stallion will be as a woman of 50? 60? What about Cardi B? Where will their power rest when they are adult women farther along in their lives? Will it be in their financial power and economic influence? Politics? Intellectual endeavors? Philanthropy? How will they change the world from the other side of menopause? When life is less about a WAP than it is about knowing who they are and being that woman?
This coffee is good…
In 191 days I’ll be 60. Fucking hell, and still working to improve my mental health, resolve my chronic anxiety, ease the symptoms of my PTSD, improve my fitness and physical wellness, and become the woman I most want to be. The clock is ticking, eh? It’s a hell of a journey. I make a point of mentioning it because although I’ve made a ton of progress… I’m still walking this path, and there’s still a long way to go. It’s not “easy”. It’s not “certain”. Success is not a given. There’s no report card at intervals. There’s no trophy at the end of the journey. Is it worth the effort? For sure. It definitely has been. The incremental improvements are so very worth it. Yes, I still find myself frustrated, angry, or blue over ancient pain. Yes, I still find myself occasionally mired in my chaos and damage. Yes, there are still tears and they still fall. I’m just saying – don’t give up on yourself. You matter and you have so much to offer the world – and yourself. Get the help you need. Make small steps. Progress so infinitesimally immeasurably small is still progress and it will still get you somewhere, and it adds up over time. There will be interesting “a-ha moments” when you notice how far you have come, and how different (and better) life feels. There are verbs involved. Your results will vary. No one else can do the work for you. Just keep at it, okay?
Begin again. And again. One practice at a time, one step forward from a bad place, one new decision in favor of your wellness… it adds up, I promise you. Your darkest nights will be followed by a dawn – and a new day. (I mean, we’re mortal, so… yeah, but that’s a different conversation.)
It’s a cold Saturday morning late in the Autumn. My arthritis is bothering me. I took my Rx a bit earlier than I would on a work day, putting my self-care ahead of any other consideration today. Later I’d like to get a walk in, once the sun is fully up, and the day a bit warmer. The holiday tree is up and decorated. There is a Giftmas plum pudding steamed and aging for the celebration ahead. It’ll be a modest holiday this year; we have chosen to put our attention and money elsewhere this year (without resentment or regret), and I’m still eager to bake shortbread, to enjoy the lights and the carols, and to spend this time with my loving partner. It means so much to have that option, and to feel so well-loved. 🙂
I’ve rambled long enough – it’s time to finish this coffee and begin again.
Evening Light 