Archives for category: Brain Injury

Iced coffee (black) and a fizzy water (plain, cold) and a day of work ahead of me. I’m not even bitching, it’s simply where the day is, at the moment.

I slept rather badly. Couldn’t fall asleep, but wasn’t stressed about it. Minutes of meditation and daydreaming became hours, and when I finally had to get up to pee, I looked at the time. It was late. I’d be getting a nap at best, and that is what came to pass. I returned to bed and crashed hard, waking abruptly around 04:15, though I don’t know what woke me. I got up, dressed, and headed to the city for the work day. With the changing season, I caught the sunrise on the commute – it was lovely. Shades of peach and pastel pinks and oranges created an exciting backdrop for the blue of the shadow-side of the mountains out on the horizon. It was almost distracting, and I almost pulled over to watch the sunrise with my whole attention.

I’m doing my best to stay engaged. The work day is just beginning. I’m tired though, and my mind wanders, and I keep coming back to some communications challenges that persist for me (brain trauma is a hard one to beat for lasting challenges). I also keeping thinking about my garden.

I clearly planted something here, but I don’t recall when or what.

I’m thinking about a sunny spot in the front flower beds where two clean rows of… something… have now sprouted. I don’t recall what I planted there. I forgot to jot down a note in my notebook, too, apparently. It’s obvious I did plant something; those rows are too orderly to be happenstance. So… what did I plant? I sip my coffee and wonder, and then find myself wading into a metaphor…

…When I look at life as a garden, and consider the care, the cultivation, the practices, it all fits so well, and then… there are these seedlings that have sprouted, which I clearly planted… and eventually they’ll become something, but I don’t know what, and it’s hard to be at all invested in whatever they are. If I water them… well, they might be weeds, do I want to water and care for them? What if they turn out to be something noxious or undesirable? If I don’t water them… well… maybe they’re something unusual, fancy, expensive, or carefully selected with my garden’s lasting beauty in mind? What then? Will I have squandered precious resources?

I find myself still struggling with some things as a human being. Communication is one of those things. Specifically, I have a problem with interrupting. I work on it pretty aggressively, but still (often) come up short of the desired outcome – which is listening deeply and not interrupting people (any people; everyone wants to be heard). The “seeds” of this challenge were planted a long long time ago. The nurturing or care those “seeds” were given most likely either did nothing to reduce the likelihood I’d interrupt people as a chronic issue, or potentially made it worse, by whatever success as a coping mechanism it may have once had. This thing isn’t a fucking “seed” any more; it’s g’damned tree. It’s massive, and it’s branches shade so much of my experience interacting with others that it affects the entire garden, now. What the hell? When I did even plant this thing? How have I not been more successful at least pruning the fucking thing back to some sort of manageable size??

I sip my coffee thinking about what we “plant” in our lives that grow to vex us later. It’s not always a walk in a manicured rose garden, this thing called life. I’ve definitely got to be more diligent about “ripping out the weeds”… and also garden with more care, taking better notes, and making a clear point of being present in the experience.

…If nothing else, I most definitely need to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee thinking about work. Thinking about life and love. Just sitting here thinking. Yesterday wasn’t a great day… but it also wasn’t actually a bad day. Neither my Traveling Partner nor I had slept well the night before. We were both more than a little cranky as a result. We managed not to snarl at each other to the point of being insufferably unpleasant, though we were also not super cheerful or inclined to be close, and it showed in our interactions. Prickly. Terse. Irritable. We could have done better. So much better. Even after a decade of living and loving, we have room to improve on how we treat each other, how we behave under the influence of stress or fatigue, and how skillfully we heal and soothe each other. Still, we spent much of the evening hanging out together more or less contentedly. That was nice. Looked at through a different lens, it was actually a pretty good day, generally.

Another sip of coffee, my thoughts turn to work. Sometimes I love this job. Sometimes I see myself as just another “corporate whore” making a go of it, earning a paycheck, and keeping that going to keep bills paid and food on the table, doing my best but also understanding that it’s a paid gig because I would not stick around doing this shit for free. Practical. Pragmatic. Still doing my best, because that’s what I’m paid to do.

“Baby Love” in bloom, May 15, 2023

I think about how far I’ve come, for some minutes. 15 years ago, life did not look like this. I lived in a seriously run down apartment in an area characterized by economic struggle (and mostly inhabited by students, and people who could not afford a nicer place or something closer to work). I had a job with a title that sort of impressed me when I took the job, but turned out to be camouflage for dirt wages and a toxic work culture. I was surviving, but definitely not thriving. My mental health was in bad shape, and I was pretty heavily medicated without great results. My relationship(s) were suffering my lack of good mental health care. My self-loathing and despair had become a quagmire of sticky trauma preventing me from making changes. Change was coming… but I didn’t know it, couldn’t see it, and for sure was in no condition to make wise rational choices about how to best move forward from where I stood. My life had reached some sort of steady-ish equilibrium of misery that had enough to sustain itself for whatever remained of a lifetime, and I had mostly sunk into a deep apathy about it – the resulting persistent anhedonia and general misery oscillated with occasional (frequent) explosive tantrums.

15 years later, I barely recognize myself as the same woman. I have a nice little house in a pleasant suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of a cute town in a country county. I’m surrounded by good neighbors, working-class skilled laborers, machinists, makers, professionals… you know, people. Good-hearted people, mostly kind nice people. Good neighbors. It’s a nice town. My job title? These days it rarely reflects the complexity of the work, and it doesn’t much matter; I’m paid fairly for the work I do. I work for companies, generally, that treat folks well. My mental health is in a great place, relatively speaking. I could be healthier. I could be “saner”… incremental change over time is still something I count on. Slow progress, steady progress. I feel hopeful, generally, and positive. I make changes fairly often, rarely really large changes – doesn’t seem necessary, generally. Small things make big differences. There’s no “equilibrium of misery” – misery feels incredibly shitty these days, because it is rare. I’m fortunate that I’m rarely miserable. Anhedonia? No thank you. Explosive tantrums? Rare enough these days that they are not a feature of my experience, just an occasional and unfortunate circumstance that trips me up when shit goes sideways. CPTSD. It’s not going to “go away”, it just gets better, slowly. 🙂 I’ve got better tools. So many tools.

…Then there’s love. This partnership. One of the best “tools” in my toolkit is my partnership with my Traveling Partner. Healthy relationships may not “fix” everything… but unhealthy relationships? Surely capable of destroying progress and emotional wellness! I’m glad every day that I’m so fortunate to have this partnership. I feel cared-for and supported day-to-day. We’ve got our issues and challenges; we’re still human primates, we still lead with our emotions, we still fuss over vexing bullshit and blow small stuff completely out of proportion now and then.

It’s been a hell of a journey. In May, we celebrated love together, 12 years of it. In June we’ll celebrate that I’ve stuck around to see 60 years of sunrises. Wow. That feels like a bigger deal than 21, 30, or 40, by far.

…I guess the entire point here is, taking things a step at a time becomes, at some point, an entire journey. Choices, verbs, steps, decisions, circumstances, events… time passes. This too will pass – whatever “this” is. The journey is the destination. There’s value in trying to make it a good one, one change at a time, one choice at a time. Begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee, a bit groggy at the start of the work day. I spent a portion of the evening swapping messages back and forth with my Traveling Partner. He was out on the road hundreds of miles away. Connectivity wasn’t great, and we’d already had a couple phone calls interrupted mid-sentence due to lack of signal strength. The gist of it all was mostly to do with terrible weather, and a less than ideally fun experience for this shake-down journey to test the gear and how we load it.

…Some things could be improved, and a bunch of stuff did not turn out as planned…

My Traveling Partner arrived home in the wee hours. I got up to welcome him home, greet him, and hear the tales of a traveler. Unexpected flooding, muddy side roads, and poor visibility due to a combination of things, rendered the experience less than ideally fun or satisfying. It made sense to cut it short, make some corrections, and begin again. 😀 I returned to bed after we spent some chill time reconnecting.

…A new day begins…

And so, here I am with this coffee, and falling back on an existing routine, more or less. I’m not vexed by the change of plans. My Traveling Partner understands the relative importance of getting this “me time”, and he’s suggested that he’ll likely give his away time another shot – with a difference selection of trails and camps, and a different direction of travel, perhaps – in just a day or two. I eye my list of things I’d planned to do with my solitary time. Some of it I can as easily do when my partner is at home, it just requires me to make it an actual priority for myself. That’s a healthy exercise, itself. I definitely need more practice putting myself on my own list. lol Over time, my results have varied.

I watch the sun rise through the windows of the co-work space. I’m still groggy. The beams of morning sunlight illuminate the artificial forsythia on this deck, bringing it to life for a time. I sip my coffee and consider beginning again.

I am sitting with a glass of iced tea, taking a break from work, and checking the map to see where my Traveling Partner is, on his journey. As if on cue, an old love song about an absent lover plays. My heart is filled with love and gratitude – not just for the solitude for this brief time, but also because it is a “brief time” until I welcome the beloved traveler home to me.

Working from home is pleasant. This quiet time lets me be quite focused and purposeful. I do find that I miss some of those distractions and interruptions, in spite of myself. I mean, I do love that guy, after all. 😀 He’s pretty special. Honestly, there’s not that much different about working from home, from my studio/office. Work is work.

…This tea is good though…

The map tells me my partner has covered about 165 miles or so, since he left (around 09:15 this morning)… here it is shortly past 13:00. Seems like he’s making good progress, though we left the details pretty open and I’m not at all certain what the destination (for today) will actually be – just a sense of approximately where he’s headed. It makes for an adventure even for me, from this vantage point here at home.

…I do miss him quite a bit, and the house seems very still and quiet…

There’s plenty of everyday stuff to get done, and the absence of my Traveling Partner doesn’t change any of that. I start some laundry. Empty the dishwasher. Take out the trash. Have a soak in the hot tub. Getting this solo time was never about doing something spectacular or novel. It’s about freedom to exist for a few days unfettered by expectations, other agendas, and the day-to-day steady consideration of what everyone else around me may need from me. A few days alone with my thoughts, alone with my breathing (and my anxiety), alone with my questions (and my chatter), just… alone, to breathe and to be. Simple stuff. Ideally, he’s getting needs of his own met with this outing that maybe I’m not easily able to meet. I don’t know. I hope so.

I do miss him

…I’m also okay with missing him; he’ll be very much truly and thoroughly welcomed when he returns. 😀 Sometimes it’s really helpful to miss someone, to regain a sense of their value in one’s life, to experience the “without” that is such a poignant reminder of all the wonder of “being with”… you know? My sense of my partner’s absence comes and goes; it’s only been hours. How will it feel once it has been days? I grin at myself; I’m okay alone, but damn I do love that man who is my Traveling Partner.

I finish my tea, finish my break, and begin again.

I watched a couple videos recently that “spoke to me”. One is a child coaching her Mom about treating people well – it’s a study in emotional intelligence. The other is a favorite content creator’s take on the way so many people make themselves miserable. I liked each of these for different reasons, but they both really resonated with me in some way, and I am sharing them with you – maybe you’ll find something of value in these, too? 🙂

I am sipping my coffee on a chilly Sunday morning in Spring. The weather looks nice. It was pleasant yesterday, too. My Traveling Partner and I hung out most of yesterday, talking over his gear as he packs for a trip away. I am simultaneously looking forward to a few days home alone, and also dreading the first moment my heart and soul realize he isn’t right here. lol I know I want (and need) the alone time, but… I will still miss him like crazy a lot. I’m not really looking forward to missing him; that bit hurts more than a little bit. I’ll be okay though – I’ll deal with it.

Sometimes the only thing we can do with or about a challenge in life is… deal with it. Cope. Accept something unpleasant or unavoidable. Change something within my power to make a change. Let it pass. Move along. Walk on. Breathe. Take action. Understand that results will likely vary. Demonstrate endurance and resilience. Adapt.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. Honestly, we could use a few days to miss each other – super helpful now and then, simply having the chance to reflect on the absence of someone dear, and be reminded how much we value their companionship, their humor, their touch, or other specific details that characterize our experience together.

I woke after a restless night. My Traveling Partner woke me a couple times during the night to ask me to roll over or change position. My snoring must have been pretty bad. I woke feeling relatively well-rested. I must have been clumsy and bumbling about making a racket in spite of myself; he woke shortly after I did, annoyed and not feeling well-rested at all. I made coffee for both of us, and made haste to the studio, to give him a chance to wake up and sort himself out without interference from me. Soon enough we’ll both forget these sorts of moments while we are missing each other and other sorts of moments we spend together. I’m grateful he’s thought of so many little things to make the time apart as low stress as possible. I smile, sip my coffee, and think nice thoughts at this human being I love so well, sipping his coffee in the other room on a chilly Spring morning.

…Camping season (for me) already…? It’s definitely feeling that way. The nights are warmer. The days are longer. The gear is ready. My partner is taking the truck for some solo camping this week. We’ve got a camping trip together planned for my birthday. I’m excited about that. 60 this year. It’s been 10 years of Evening Light. (Wow!) That’s worth celebrating. 😀

Another sip of this very good cup of coffee, and I start thinking about the day ahead. Sunday. Housekeeping mostly, I guess, and getting ready for the week ahead. I’ll have some alone time, but it’s also a work week. No point going to the co-work space; I’ll work from home this week. I’m looking forward to that too. Sunday is still laundry day, and grocery shopping if any needs to be done, and dishes, and taking out trash and recycling… routine household chores. Good day for it. I’ll get out into the garden for a while, too, I suppose. A merry and ordinary Sunday ahead…

…I suppose there’s nothing left to do but begin again…