Archives for category: Brain Injury
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Little Complications

May 7, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and fussing with a small hangnail. I keep trying to ignore it, but keep finding myself sliding the adjacent finger alongside the hangnail, feeling the tiny snag as much more significant than it is, and fighting the impulse to tear it off, which would surely only do more damage. I pause and put lotion on my hands, hoping to soften that wee torn bit of flesh such that it stops being a distraction. It’s a small thing (literally quite small), but continues to pull at my awareness in the background. Will I have the pure will and persistence necessary to leave the fucking thing alone for an entire work shift? (Somehow I’ve misplaced the nail kit I thought I’d left in my desk drawer for this sort of thing…)

I sigh out loud and make myself let this go. Again. I expect I’ll be repeating the effort… repeatedly. lol

…I remind myself to make an appointment for a manicure this week…

…I think about how terrible I am at remembering self-care tasks without actual reminders, and put the reminder on my damned calendar for later…

It was fully daylight when I got to the office this morning, though I left at “the usual time”. The season continues to evolve, Spring deepening and the days growing longer and warmer. I’m eagerly anticipating my camping trip at the end of the month, and looking forward to the early morning drive. 3 hours of country driving, quite early and likely with very little traffic due to the early hour and route I’ve selected. It’s the kind of driving I enjoy most. My Traveling Partner prepared a playlist for me to enjoy – songs I can sing along to that we often enjoy together, and selected to be the sorts of things unlikely to provoke aggressive driving, and more likely to promote a peaceful chill driving experience. I’ve been enjoying it on my commute, too. 😀 Delightful. I feel very loved – and understood.

I sit with the passing recollection that we’ll be losing this office space at the end of this month. Feels a little odd. I don’t actually require an office space to do the work I do; I’m a “fully remote” worker these days, and making the trip into the office is purely optional, and I do it because it’s nice to enjoy the pleasant office, and to give my Traveling Partner the opportunity to sleep in. It’ll be back to working from home in just a couple weeks, and my timing and routine will change to account for that. No idea what that’ll look like, really. My “routine” is not fixed or static, and it changes with seasons, and the changing needs of daily (and family) life. The rate of change is sufficiently slow that things tend to feel pretty routine most of the time, in spite of the changes. I’ll likely return to walking (locally) in the very early morning, and starting my work day hours later than I do now. Being at home during the work day, I’ll do more of the small housekeeping stuff on breaks, during the day, instead of pounding through all of it shortly after returning home. I may be less tired – I’ll get almost 3 hours back in my day that will no longer be spent commuting to the city. I find myself looking forward to all of that.

…I glance at the clock, and realize it’s already time to get on with the day… I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

No Blue Skies Today

May 6, 2024 //
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This morning is a gray and rainy one. It’s fine. It’s the sort of rain that evokes childhood memories of waiting in the car, rain tapping the windshield and roof, or sitting gazing out a window to a rainy street daydreaming stories about passers-by, dazzled by the reflections of lights on wet pavement. I find rainy days generally pleasant, but the sound of rain does tend to make my mind wander. I sit with my thoughts for a timeless moment, watching the rain fall.

…The only thing I don’t like about a chilly rainy morning is the amount of pain I’m often in; my arthritis definitely seems to respond to the weather…

I nibble at my breakfast salad contentedly, in spite of having “no dressing” (I’d used up the last of what was on hand last week, and had completely forgotten about it). It’s fine. I drizzled a teaspoon of olive oil over the greens, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Seems adequate; it matters more that the greens are a nice blend of good quality baby greens (things like spinach, arugula, chard, small leaf lettuces) – flavorful on their own. I sip my coffee, which is surprisingly terrible this morning – but that’s fine, too. It’s honestly not worth fussing over, barely worth mentioning in passing. I’m satisfied with it; it feels like enough. Could I make fresh? Sure. Could I go get a coffee elsewhere and spend money on it? Yep. Not gonna. Doesn’t matter enough to bother with all that. It’s fine. lol

My mind wanders as I nibble at my breakfast. No rush. No pressure. A moment with my thoughts. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, though I easily hear the ventilation in the background, and a plane passing over heard, too; these definitely external sounds help prevent me from focusing on my tinnitus (which, subjectively, often makes it seem much louder). I feel prepared for the day, and well-organized. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let myself simply be here, now; a woman having coffee and a bite of breakfast before digging into the day’s work in earnest. It’s enough.

Nozomi – second to bloom this Spring.

The weekend was a rainy one, and I enjoyed taking it easy with my Traveling Partner. We spent time together on 3D printing projects, and conversation. It was a lovely weekend. I didn’t spend much time in the garden (just had a walk around once or twice), due to the fairly steady rain. It was fine, though. My time was well-spent.

I think ahead to my upcoming camping trip, which will take me away from home (if all goes as planned) for most of an entire work week (Monday through midday Friday). I know he’ll miss me. I think about things I can do to provide a sense of care and comfort for him, even while I’m away, and how best to stay connected and emotionally close while we’re apart. However much I need the solitude, myself, I am aware he gets much more of that than he needs. There’s a balance to be struck. He loves me, and recognizes I need the solitary time now and then. I love him, and recognize he needs to feel that continued sense of connection and closeness when I’m away. Love is worth learning the practices that build the skills it takes to make love last in an enduring and healthy way. (I’m still practicing, still learning, still working on becoming the woman – and the partner – that I most want to be. There are verbs involved, and my results vary.)

What are you going to do about it?

…I chuckle to myself when I recall my thoughts about this morning’s writing on my way to work; this is nothing like that. It’s strikes me humorously, simply because I often have some particular theme or idea in mind as I head to work, but once I’m here, and sitting down with the day, my head may be in a very different place. I “lose the thread” of those early morning thoughts, which sometimes vexes me, particularly if I “had it all sorted out” in my head in some way I thought worth putting into words. Other mornings, my musings – worthy or not – are less than ideally focused, or rather more negative that useful, and a few moments of meditation “puts my head right”, but throws all those earlier thoughts out in favor of … something different. That’s a bit of what happened this morning. I woke feeling, not exactly cross, just not… delighted with the day, somehow. After I sat with myself for a few minutes, listening to the rain fall, I felt fine. Upbeat. Fairly merry. Contented. It definitely changed what I ended up writing, though I’m not sure in any useful way. I’m sort of just… putting words into sentences. lol

…This is the thing, though; incremental change over time, and working through the chaos and damage, means more and more of my days are less and less “terrible”, and much more likely to be quite pleasantly ordinary – and that’s a good thing. The “excitement” of chaos and the highs and lows of living with trauma (and healing from it) aren’t the standard to strive for, at all. The point of seeking emotional wellness is to, over time, become emotionally well, which is often not particularly exciting at all, which is… fine. Quite fine.

I sip my coffee. Finish my salad. Look over my calendar for the day and the week, and check my notes from Friday. I’m ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Mist and Chimes

May 3, 2024 //
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It’s a peculiar sort of morning. I slept through to my lights coming on to wake me, which is rare. I woke groggy and stupid,  confused about what day it is, and whether I have some major activity planned for the weekend ahead…I felt certain I was forgetting something (I was). Only just now,  after a walk through an oak grove shrouded in early morning mist did I remember; I’m taking the car in for some repair work tomorrow morning. lol Nothing critical to know today. Funny that I couldn’t remember.

Morning mist and solitude.

My tinnitus is crazy loud this morning,  something like very distant warning klaxons  going off, or “shimmery chimes” in a breezy garden… describing it accurately eludes me, though I often want to try. In my left ear, there’s a short morse code “phrase” buried in the static, on the right I hear the backup warning of a construction vehicle and chuckle to myself when I realize I am actually hearing that. I clear my throat, startling myself with how loud that seems.

My thoughts wander. I meditate after I change from my boots back to my shoes. I  sit in the early morning stillness,  grateful for the quiet moment. The work day will begin shortly. The bustle and fuss of adult tasks and caring for hearth, home,  and partner with recommence on the other side of this quiet time. I avoid thinking about how fucking tired I am at the end of these days. I feel encouraged by the progress my Traveling Partner is making and remind myself gently to “hang in there “. I’ve been doing my best, but it often doesn’t feel like enough,  and I’m not certain I have it in me to do more/better.

My back is already aching fiercely. I take medication for that, with a sigh and a frown.  I don’t like having to rely on Rx pain relief and approach doing so with some reluctance and considerable care. I’m looking forward to the drier summer days ahead, when I rarely need pain medication to manage my day-to-day pain.

…One of the most difficult things to come to terms with after I broke my back years ago was the likelihood that I would deal with chronic, nearly continuous pain for the remainder of my life… but it has proven to be the situation, and “wishing it away” doesn’t work for me nearly as well as facing it, accepting it, and learning coping skills for dealing with it. I try not to let pain call the shots, limit what I do, or prevent me from enjoying my life. My results vary. Some days are better than others. Today I fucking hurt. I’m in a pretty good mood though,  and that’s a win.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I make a point to let go of vaguely vexing miscellany that doesn’t require my attention. This “here and now” moment is pretty pleasant. I take time to enjoy it before I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

A Headache and a Heavy Heart

April 29, 2024 //
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I woke too early. My sleep was restless and interrupted. I finally stopped bothering to go back to sleep at 04:00 a.m. – it was just too close to when I’d typically get up anyway, so I got up, dressed, and headed into the office. Based on my mood alone, it’s a good day to go farther… just drive and drive, into the sunrise, and see where the road might take me… It’s a Monday, so that’s not really an option. Work. I remind myself that I’ve got a couple days solo coming up, camping, soon. I hold on to that idea as if with a clenched fist.

Making plans for solo time.

G’damn relationships are fucking hard sometimes. People are complicated and they need so much, and it changes so often! What matters in one moment seems unimportant in another, or in a different frame of mind, or from some other point of view at a different time. Complicate that further with individual trauma and baggage and bullshit, and… yeah… so hard sometimes. People are complicated. Me, too. It’s not reliably easy, this whole “getting along” thing… sometimes not even for lovers or devoted partners. There are verbs involved. Active listening skills to cultivate. Boundaries to set, manage, respect, be aware of. Little courtesies to offer no matter how tired we feel in the moment, or how bad we hurt inside. It gets messy, sometimes – we’re really just fancy fucking primates, with all the same poo-flinging tendencies of our ape and monkey cousins. I guess I should at least appreciate that human primates mostly fling metaphorical poo, verbal poo, and not actual turds, generally speaking.

“Lovers” 10″ x 14″ watercolor on paper 1992

I’m sipping my coffee feeling discontented and moody. I teeter between lingering anger and lingering hurt feelings. I nibble at my breakfast salad with moody disinterest in my health or fitness or frankly any other “hopeful encouraging bullshit” – that’s the kind of mood I’m in. Discouraged. Disappointed. Sad. It’s not a lack of progress; I could be celebrating progress right now, but I just don’t feel like it. I’m mired in my fucking emotional bullshit right now, thanks. I’m still eating this healthy breakfast salad, though. It’s “the right thing to do” in this moment, and I’m not going to give that up just because I’m in a snit over my relationship “difficulties” (relatively speaking, I’ve got it pretty good, and I’m probably being an ass to beef about it in the first place, I’m just in a terrible mood, dealing with lack of sleep and pain, and fucking cranky as hell).

Maybe it looks easy…but…

We more or less got the evening back on track yesterday. Shared dinner together. Watched a couple videos. There are still things we need to talk about, and omg I fucking hate that shit. I dread meaningful serious relationship-building conversations about boundaries and expectations and all-manner of fairly important “taking care of each other” details that so easily turn contentious because humans are human, and feelings are easily hurt. We too easily take too much shit too personally. We make small things over into big things, and do our best to “win” or “be right”, when what might be most productive is simply to listen and care and love each other. I’m not pointing a finger – these are generalities that most assuredly apply to me, too. (I prefer to discuss my own bullshit over anyone else’s bullshit; I know its measure very well, and it’s a helpful bit of introspection, whereas finger-pointing and blame-laying only lay the foundation for some future argument. That’s tedious and a huge waste of limited precious mortal lifetime.)

The smallest tokens of lasting affection can feel huge.

I sip my coffee. Breathe. Munch my salad. Watch gray storm clouds roiling against the background of pale morning sky. Think my thoughts and feel my pain. I think about my Traveling Partner sleeping at home and hope that he finally gets the rest he’s been needing, and struggling to get. Everything feels worse and seems harder when we aren’t getting the sleep we need. I sigh quietly to myself. I’m grateful to have the office alone this morning – I’m not fit company for other people, presently. I haven’t been sleeping well, either.

A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.

I give the day’s work an irritated look. It’s all quite routine, and I am struggling to care and to commit. Lingering malaise and ennui and irritation are vexing me, and I’m struggling to let it go. There’s a reason non-attachment is a practice; it takes quite a bit of practicing. I pick the last leaf of arugula off my plate and drag it around in the last drops of vinaigrette with a total lack of regard for forks or good manners before I eat it and set my plate aside. It can be so hard to “make space” for my feelings, to feel them, process them, and proceed to “do what’s right” nonetheless – assuming I have a good idea of what I think “right” may be in this moment in the first place. I breathe, exhale, relax, and try again to just let this shit go, properly, and move on – to allow myself to separate yesterday’s painful moment from necessary future (loving, nurturing, productive) conversations about needs, boundaries, and expectations. I sigh, and remind myself that relationship building is effort and work and commitment and also love. It’s so easy to tear down relationships (and people), and so much more worthwhile to do something to build instead – in spite of how much harder that often feels (is?).

What could be more worthy of study than communication? Even though we are each having our own experience, we are all in this together.

I give myself a minute with my thoughts and my coffee, before I begin again. I know my results will vary – but I also know that love matters most, and that we become what we practice. I definitely need more practice at deep listening, and communicating, and boundary-setting, and setting clear expectations, and being fearlessly open… and I know I can begin again, and keep practicing.

Sharing the love, and sharing the building. Destruction is far less joyful.
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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, weight loss secrets, women, Words

What Matters Most?

April 28, 2024 //
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It’s hard to care about progress toward goals with tears pouring down. It’s hard to celebrate a joyful moment in the midst of angry criticism (however legitimate or well-intentioned). It’s hard to care about anything, and for the moment, I’m mired in this experience of deep sorrow and dread. I’m “shook”. I’m triggered. I’m grievously stressed out – by the person in my life who cares for me most, and who I hold most dear, myself.

…It’s just a moment…

…Breathe, exhale… begin again…

I tell myself the things I know I need to hear. I work towards perspective – and forgiveness – and I just… still hurt. I’m still crying. It’s still fresh.

I 100% absolutely unequivocally without exception completely and entirely loathe being yelled at. I don’t respond to it well at all. Maybe it doesn’t rise to the level of someone else’s idea of yelling? Perhaps it doesn’t, but I don’t do well with the escalated hostile angry confrontational tone to something that could have been handled with kindness, humor, and love, and treated as a human moment. Was it a big deal? Not for me to decide. Clearly it was a big enough deal for my Traveling Partner to lash out at me in the way that he did.

…It’s just a moment…

He’ll probably move past it far sooner than I will be able to. I hope he does, I don’t honestly want him also hurting over it, and I’d rather see him happy and okay with himself and with life, generally. I want that for both of us. Right now… I’m alone with my tears. At some point, I’ll probably be okay, and more easily able to nurture myself, and offer him kind words and put things right somehow.

(This wasn’t “a big deal”, and there’s nothing to see here, no violence, no trauma, just expressions of temper and frustration and angry words, and emotions, and it’s unpleasant and I’m unhappy, but these experiences are also part of the human experience – we’re not perfect creatures capable of full-time rationalism uncomplicated by our feelings, ever. We are creatures of emotion and reason – and emotion always arrives to the party first.)

detail of “Emotion and Reason”, acrylic on canvas with glow and ceramic details. 2011.

I breathe, exhale, and feel the throbbing of my headache, reliably worsened by the stressful moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and although we were making light of that earlier in the day, it’s no laughing matter right now. The lack of rest has consequences for my emotional regulation. So… I’m alone with myself; the only person I know fully capable of accepting me as I am right now, and dealing with it without making it worse. (Which is a sign of real growth, and I take a moment to appreciate it that I can “be here for myself” in a way I simply couldn’t have 10 years ago.)

Fucking hell. What a shit show. People fucking suck… every one of us. So fucking human. Sometimes that really just sucks all the balls. My nerves are raw, and my emotions are in chaos. It’s a shitty place to be.

…I sit awhile “listening” to my tinnitus. It’s louder, too. It hisses and chimes and rings and buzzes in my ears while my head throbs and my heart pounds. Tears well up. My nose runs. I try not to make shit just that little bit worse by anticipating a shitty day tomorrow as a result of this shitty moment right here… tomorrow will be a new day. A new beginning. A reliable chance to reset and make choices in favor of a different experience. I’ll go to work. The routine will feel comfortable – and comforting. I remind myself this too will pass…

I take a moment for gratitude. It’s been such a lovely weekend. Rainy, mostly, but blue skies now; the sun came out at midday, and there’s a pleasant Spring breeze blowing. I got the things done I most needed to, and that I’d committed to doing. There’s still some laundry to fold, but I haven’t had to push a bunch of stuff off to another day. All of that matters, even if this moment seems to diminish it.

…I feel sad, though. As is so often the case, I was in such a lovely mood when shit went sideways. I suppose that’s likely to be the perspective any time shit does go sideways, eh? It’s probably going to feel as if “everything” has suddenly turned from golden joy and delight to … shit. I wonder how accurate that ever actually is? Was it just an ordinary moment that now seems vastly better than it was, because the moment that followed was just that bad? I think about that for a moment, and consider the nature of “perspective” and how subjective that can actually be.

The tears well up all over again, and I find myself feeling profound self-doubt about whether there’s even any value in hitting “publish” on this – whenever I finally stop writing. A missive of pain… seems… somehow tedious, or selfish, or pointless, or… just somehow lacking. I feel anhedonia lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of unsuspecting vulnerability to let that shit creep over me like clingwrap, smothering me in ennui and sadness and that horrible sense of grim futility I know so well… Not at all what I want for myself. That shit is a terrible way to treat oneself. I sigh quietly, resigned to the struggle – and the headache – and wondering how the evening ahead will unfold. For the moment, I don’t feel welcome in my home, nor even in my life. Just… sad and out of place. Like… a familiar stranger.

…There’s still laundry to fold. A partner to forgive. A moment to move on from. Water to get started drinking (you know, because of all the fucking crying). Like it or not, the way out is through, and I’d better get started… I’ve got to begin again somehow. This time, it’ll need some real work – and I know my results may vary. I’ll just start with stepping through it as a process, and trust that the process will… work.

…I miss the wise women of my lifetime… my Granny. My mother. Most particularly my recently departed dear friend. I feel so… lonely, right now. Thanks for listening, if you bothered to get this far. I appreciate it. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m just hurting at this moment, right here… and it’ll pass. Moments are quite fleeting. You’re welcome to share your thoughts – perhaps your perspective will help. No expectations, just saying; I do read the comments.

G’damn this headache, though…

…Something, something… “begin again”… it sounds empty just at the moment, but I know the truth of it… so I’ll just get started on that… What else would I do?

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women
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