Archives for category: Brain Injury
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F* You In The Morning

March 25, 2026 //
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I’ll admit I didn’t expect to have love songs in my head this morning. I didn’t sleep well and my dreams were strange and disturbing. I woke up too early. I woke with a headache.

Trigger warning: emotions.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I dressed and noticed my Traveling Partner was already up. I managed to make a colossal mess of that, this morning, although I really tried to make a comfortable exit without causing any chaos or heartache. My excuse is that I wasn’t completely awake, yet. It’s not much of an excuse. I hurt his feelings terribly. That is the large and the small of it. By the time I reached the trailhead he had messaged me enough sincere and carefully worded “fuck yous” that what could have been a small misunderstanding between lovers resolved with patience and communication… wasn’t.

I walked the first half of my walk in tears, pretty much just hating humanity, the complexities of good communication, and wondering what the fuck love even means. I’ve still got a work day ahead. Looks like I’ll be starting the day wondering whether the love I think I share with my partner is real at all – which hurts so much I don’t have words, just more tears.

“Hurt people hurt people,” I whisper to myself through my tears, sitting here feeling foolish and exposed, by the side of a public trail. I’m embarrassed to have hurt my Traveling Partner’s feelings so badly, to the point that I feel hesitant to ever go back to my own house… which feels ridiculous when I see it in words. I feel hurt, myself. He managed to say some incredibly painful things, phrased for maximum damage. How do I measure the impact of emotional weapons? Shit can escalate so fast, out of some inocuous seeming moment, laying waste to to any feeling of emotional safety.

… When you hurt someone, apologize…

G’damn this sucks.

I sigh and try to regain lost perspective. I also stare into the face of my worst fear; that I will return home to find him gone, house emptied, our life together abruptly ended. The tears start all over again, but facing fears seems more effective than running from them.

My ears are ringing like crazy. My head aches, and my left arm feels numb. I’m annoyed by my perceived frailty right now, when I need my strength. I breathe, exhale, and… do my best to let this go. Emotions are fleeting. They don’t make a good substitute for thinking. I’m not having an easy time of it. I’m hurting right now. So is he, I’m sure.

I curse my first husband under my breath, and my father, too. The lessons learned in those traumatic relationships caused so much damage that I reliably face this sort of situation with real mortal terror, and actual fear of potentially deadly consequences. That seems so unfair to my Traveling Partner (and to me, now); he has demonstrated real love and kindness, without violence or mind games, and we’ve shared 16 amazing years together. My heart aches with confusion and uncertainty.

I sit with my tears, replaying every conversation over days and weeks like some sick game of “he loves me, he loves me not”, tearing my certainty of his love to shreds. I take a big breath of Spring air and blow it all out, watching my breath mingle with the fog. Chilly morning. I quietly chastise myself for being overly dramatic, for blowing things out of proportion, even for cowardice. That’s not really helpful, so I let that go too. I try to be a little kinder to the woman in the mirror; tears aren’t her best look, and she deserves better from me.

Fucking hell, I hope I’m not seeing the twilight of this relationship… that’s almost too painful to bear. That’s the big fear. I breathe, exhale, and relax. We’ve been through a lot in 16 years, this doesn’t seem likely to be the thing that ends a relationship like ours. Another breath, and I dry my tears, blow my nose, and notice daybreak has come. Coffee will be nice… This amount of emotion, stress, and drama is not sustainable…

Having a brain injury that results in difficulty controlling my emotions comes with some baggage. I do my best to keep things in perspective. I work to build and protect my emotional resilience. I seek to forgive easily, and to make room for the people I love to make mistakes and move on from those. I know I need that myself, far more often than I’d like.

I yield to the temptation to curse the new day; it’s off to a pretty bad start. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and begin again. I repeat the effort again. And again. As often as it takes to calm myself and face my fears – and my beloved – and begin the new day from a better place. Because moments are moments, and love is bigger than that.

My Traveling Partner sends me an apology for his harsh words. I send one back for my insensitivity and hurtful behavior. I look into the fog, seeing the trail ahead disappear into the mist. I can’t see where the path leads, but it is time to begin again. For real. I get to my feet and head for home.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

333

March 23, 2026 //
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I sat for a few minutes at the trailhead before I set off down the trail. The available mileage read 333, and I thought wistfully of turning the car around, calling out from work and driving east to catch up to the sunrise. It’s early. The sun won’t rise for another two hours.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I take a few more minutes to calm myself, to avoid pounding down the trail more stomping than walking; that’s too hard on my feet, ankles, and knees. Pointlessly damaging. Once I am calm, I set off down the trail in the darkness.

I reflect on my experience as I walk, and get to my halfway point annoyed to discover my phone at 35% charged. Wtf? Did I not plug in the charging cable when I went to bed? It’s possible, but the possibility does nothing to charge my phone now. I sigh to myself and toggle on “extreme battery saving”.

This morning I was awakened abruptly by the bang of a cupboard or a door. I dislike being awakened by loud noises. It sets off my PTSD. I’m hyper vigilant as I sit here in the darkness, heart still pounding, tinnitus shrill in my ears, pain amplified by anxiety – all this in spite of well-practiced tools for managing my PTSD. It takes time.

I sit here taking the time I need.

Fucking hell. And on a Monday after a couple days away from work, too. It’ll be a busy Monday. Maybe a busy week. I remind myself that although I can’t reliably control the circumstances in which I find myself, I can control my reaction to them. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate for awhile in the darkness.

I sit listening to the HVAC of a nearby building. This is no wilderness trail, just a pleasant space between human endeavors. Behind me, the acreage of the air museum and a water park, vineyards filling every bit of space in which grapes could be planted. Ahead of me, on the other side of a creek that winds its way to the Yamhill River, an apartment complex, invisible but for a few lit windows and some balcony lights. Later, after daybreak, the farmworkers will begin to arrive, and the construction workers building a luxury hotel none of the locals actually want will begin their work. I sit with my irritation; it has nothing to do with these details, although it is tempting to connect them with my experience.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let that shit go.

I dislike drama. I dislike displays of temper. I dislike unexpected loud noises. It’s a human life; there’s likely to be some drama, some temper on display, and some loud noises. Hell, sometimes I may be the cause. I sigh to myself in the darkness. My anger over being awakened by shit that isn’t even to do with me at all doesn’t help anything. I let it go. G’damn, I’ll be glad to see the Anxious Adventurer move out. The friction between him and my Traveling Partner is unpleasant to live with.

… They are each having their own experience, and in either case, it isn’t about me…

It’s just two more weeks.

My head aches. I take my medication a little early. I hope it helps.

I sigh again in the darkness, and pull my attention back to me, here, now, in this moment. I’m eager to be painting again. The background tension in the household has made that difficult. I sit reflecting on several views, images, and ideas I have in mind to paint. Being in less physical pain day-to-day has increased my feelings of being inspired. I love this feeling. I focus on the feeling of being inspired and “anchor myself” to that feeling, instead of clinging to my irritation. It’s a good choice, and I feel lifted from my anger.

Soon the sun will come. I’ll finish this walk and return home to work – and to make a good cup of coffee, and begin again.

For now, I’ll enjoy this quiet moment, listening to the HVAC in the distance and the creek nearby, and think thoughts of paintings yet to be painted, and moments of joy yet to come. I’ll open my heart to gratitude, and enjoy fond recollections of the time I’ve been spending with my Traveling Partner, which has been exceptionally pleasant lately, and romantic and connected. Time and moments worth savoring, for sure. I glance at the battery indicator on my phone. 31% now. I shrug, look over my writing and prepare to hit “publish” on this very human experience, before I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Balance and Renewal

March 20, 2026 //
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I woke groggy from a deep sleep, and couldn’t immediately recall why I had set my alarm on a Sunday.

… Only it isn’t Sunday at all, it’s Friday…

Right. I’m off today for the Equinox. I’m up early to see the sun rise.

Welcoming the dawn, taking a moment for quiet joy and reflection.

I made it to the trailhead in time to see the first hints of dawn begin to color the horizon. It’s a gray Spring morning, quite overcast, and smelling of rain and green things sprouting all around. The meadow and marsh are looking less brown. The trees are full of little birds, and squirrels are playfully sprinting past me in the grass as if I might chase them. After yesterday afternoon in the garden, I ache all over, and would not be chasing the squirrels even if I were inclined to do so, which I’m not.

I’ll be in the garden again today, later. It’s that time. There is so much to do! Weeding mostly, this time of year, and some pruning (which I finished yesterday). Early seeds, like peas, should have been planted months ago, but my fall laziness paid off in consequences; the garden was not ready for planting. After I catch up on all of the preparatory work, I’ll plant young starts and enjoy them every bit as much as watching seeds sprout. There are lessons to be learned in the garden.

A small brown bird stops on the fence rail next to me, rather close. I stop writing to avoid startling her with my movement. We sit together for a couple minutes, then she looks at me and sings a little song before flying away. A good omen? Perhaps. If you’re into that sort of thing.

I think about the world, and it’s a crazy terrifying mess. Not humanity’s finest moment, if we’re being honest, is it? I sigh to myself and come back to this moment here. The coming of Spring… only… Spring got here weeks ago. But it is the Equinox, for me that represents balance and renewal. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation. As I sit, a small herd of deer wanders by, all does. They watch me with soft brown eyes as they pass me one by one. They cross the trail, heading into the meadow towards the marsh ponds. They are not troubled by the state of the world.

I reflect on the lessons of deer and of gardening. Life has a lot to teach us, when we live it. That’s worth considering more closely. I smile to myself and to the plump robin rustling breakfast from the ground beneath the leaf litter at my feet.

I welcome the Spring and the dawn of a new day. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Preserving My Peace

March 17, 2026 //
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[No AI was used to create or edit this human content.]

Yesterday was a good day, a better than average Monday. I arrived home from work with a headache, an unfortunate result of working from a seat at the library where the afternoon sunshine was directly on my face. “A sunshine headache,” the sort of thing I find difficult to explain. Surviving head trauma can have some peculiar lingering consequences, and in my case those include this particular type of headache (which were much worse when I was younger but still occur in a dim fashion now). It didn’t last; I spent awhile contentedly doing my own thing in a quiet darkened room and it passed.

We often have the tools we need for the circumstances we find ourselves in.

For me, it was a pleasant evening. I am not certain what kind of experience everyone else was having. I managed to refrain from allowing concerns about experiences that are not my own to overcome my experience, and instead simply lived my moment. I slept well and deeply. The night passed uneventfully. I woke early, earlier than usual.

When I woke, I noticed my Traveling Partner was already up. I could have made assumptions about why he was up so early, but doing so could potentially lay the foundation for stress or misunderstandings. Instead I observe that he is awake and leave further understanding for later on, when I have more information. I dress and go through my morning routine, and head out for the day. On my way, I pass my beloved, in the open doorway to the deck, breathing the cool morning air. I say good morning. He returns my greeting with a few words of explanation. I depart without disturbing his peace, nor does he disturb mine.

All of this to say we are making choices. It’s not fancy or particularly complicated. We choose our words and choose our actions. We choose peace or we choose something else. Our choices definitely matter. We become what we practice. We create the person we are with our choices.

Who do you want most to be? How do you want to be remembered?

I sit at the trailhead, waiting for daybreak to come. It is a mild morning, and the warmer Spring days after so much rain have created slippery conditions on this trail, even on paved portions. Moss is growing over the trail in places. Fallen leaves, partially decomposed, are slick mats waiting to create a slip and fall accident for some unwary walker. I choose caution – and a bit of daylight. I reflect on choices and change, and preserving my peace under challenging circumstances.

I don’t look at the news this morning. Why would I? I already know enough about what’s going on to function in society. More would be too much. I’m taking “preserving my peace” pretty seriously. If asked, I would encourage our leaders to do the same; preserve peace. I doubt they would listen to me; they are making too much money off of war and enjoying the thrill of having so much attention. I find the whole mess distasteful and frankly crass. Humanity could do better.

Choose your actions and your words with care. They have consequences.

Daybreak. The first hints of the new day dawning reveal a stormy overcast sky. The forecast says the day will be warm, like yesterday. I look down the familiar path, feeling capable and prepared, and ready to begin again.

What will you choose? It’s your path to walk.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words

Eat Some Pi

March 14, 2026 //
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Today is “Pi day”. 😁 Pi day has always put a smile on my face since it became a thing I was aware of. Eat some pie. Celebrate some fun with numbers. Maybe take time to learn more about pi as a number. Have a little fun, and remember that math doesn’t change based on whether you understand it. You can learn it, it’s just a different language.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reached the trailhead sometime after daybreak, just as sunrise began, but the clouds were positioned such that it wasn’t particularly colorful. A thin crescent moon hangs over the farm fields that become a seasonal lake with the autumn rain. This year it was Spring before that happened, and it is not the dramatic change it usually is.

A new day and an opportunity to begin again.

The marsh is soggy. The seasonal trail is flooded in places and not safe to walk. The all season trail is less fraught with obstacles and unlikely to be impassable at any point. It takes me alongside the Tualatin river, and there’s a very nice place to sit, there. I head out content to walk with my thoughts awhile. It’s enough.

Spring feels like it’s already here.

When I reach this “view point”, I stop and sit with my thoughts awhile. It is as different a day from yesterday as it possibly could be. I feel comfortable, contented, and unbothered. I feel lighthearted and wrapped in love. Feelings are feelings. Feelings are not rooted in factual objective circumstances. I’m okay with letting yesterday’s feelings go; they are part of yesterday. That was s different moment, a moment that has passed. I don’t benefit from clinging to it.

Little birds flit among the still bare branches of the trees and shrubs around me. I watch them with delight. This moment is enough just as it is. Later, I’ll begin again, for now I’ll just be here, enjoying the moment I’ve got.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words
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