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No Helpful Perspective

July 19, 2023 //
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It’s shortly after 05:00 a.m. I am tired. Groggy. Already in the office. I have a headache. At this point, I’d be awake most any work day. On this day, I woke with a panic attack, well before dawn, and even before my scheduled time to wake up. I zone in and out. It’s hard to focus. I did not get enough sleep. I was an emotional mess when I dressed and left the house quite abruptly; I don’t make my best decisions from deep within a panic attack. The point of my departure was exclusively to do with giving my Traveling Partner an opportunity to get much-needed sleep, himself. I sure wasn’t going to be going back to sleep. Now I’m stuck in that not-quite-awake/not-quite-sleeping place. Eyelids are heavy. I feel stupid and a bit dizzy.

…It’s these harder days that I practice for on all those easier days…

I left the house so early (before 04:00 a.m.) that there were no coffee shops open anywhere, on the entire drive into the city. The gas station near home was open, so I stopped in – my plan was to buy bottled or canned coffee. Coffee for the drive. I forgot all about doing that, and just got gas and got on the road to the office. lol The drive in was uneventful, aside from just… no other traffic at all, really. The streets were empty at that hour. It was spooky and pretty surreal. When I got into the city, the parking garage wasn’t even open yet. I parked on the street. I set a reminder on my phone to pay the meter; it is too early to do even that.

…I’m so tired…

Every time my consciousness lands on my waking-up experience of this morning, I start crying all over again. Weeping, to be more accurate. Tears well up and start falling. It definitely messed with my head to start my day from a place of panic, fear, and anxiety. I have a headache right on the edge of becoming a migraine. From the perspective of this fatigue and the associated lack of emotional resilience, tomorrow’s planned drive seems a tad daunting, at least for the moment. I wouldn’t want to be starting that journey from this point. “It’ll be easier once the sun rises,” I tell myself before rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and cleaning my smudgy glasses. “The world” absolutely will not actually care about “my bullshit” or chaos and damage, not even a little bit, and there is a whole new work day between me and setting forth on my weekend of driving, camping, and self-reflection. “One foot after the other,” I remind myself, “and don’t forget to breathe.”

…I get a can of cold-brew from the office kitchen…

Starting the day triggered is shitty. Just saying. I’m acknowledging that explicitly for myself because failing to do so would tend to set up the day as one on which I “don’t feel heard”, or cared for, or supported – because I need those things (feeling heard, cared for, and supported) from me every bit as much (more?) as I need them from anyone else. I take a minute to accept that the day started very poorly, and that I feel tired, and at a disadvantage. I definitely do not feel properly “engaged” or prepared for a routine day of work. My eyes glance at the time… I’ve got basically an hour to “sort myself out” and face the work day. Fuuuuuck. At least it is a “no meetings” day… that’s something. I know I can take some time to get my head right before other people have to deal with me.

…I’m so tired…

I keep sipping this coffee. It’s canned cold brew. It’s… fine? Not good. Adequate. It meets the need. I catch myself picking at my torn up cuticles (again), and sigh out loud as I let my hands drop back to the keyboard to type these words. It’s going to be that day, I guess. Tears start falling again. I let them. Now is not the time to beat myself up over a handful of fucking tears. It’s been a difficult morning. I mean, well, those first moments. The rest since then has been utterly uneventful aside from being stupidly fucking early. It takes me a while for the chemistry of some emotions to clear up… like being on a bad trip, I know it will pass. It’ll end. Things will be okay… later. For now… I sit here with this fairly crappy iced coffee, watching the sun rise beyond the windows.

…Good grief canned coffee is pretty dreadful…

The car is almost entirely packed for my roadtrip. I sip my coffee and contemplate getting on the road today, after work (although honestly I’m probably too tired for that, and may be taking a bit more than usual risk just driving home in commuter traffic later today). My timing is all based on an early departure tomorrow. I chuckle grimly; the early wake-up today will give me one advantage tomorrow morning; I’ll be “more used to” getting up earlier than I tend to for work. I’ll set my silent alarm for 04:00 and try to catch the sunrise in my rear view mirror, from the highway to the coast. I’ll just get up and leave whenever I wake. Why not? No reason I need to put any pressure on myself, and I’ll have at least 11 hours to make the 5-hour drive to my camp site for my first night. 🙂 There are lots of beautiful places to stop to see sights and get pictures, and there is no need to rush. This adventure is about the time spent in my own good company.

…I feel a genuine smile form, and although it doesn’t linger it stills feels like progress…

I am so very much looking forward to a couple days without having to “deal with people” much (hardly at all)(including my Traveling Partner). Alone with my thoughts. Alone in my own head. Alone to sleep, to eat, to breathe, “interrupted” only by a few also greatly needed hours in the company of a dear old friend. I’ve been feeling hemmed in on all sides by what everyone else seems to need from me. I suspect that’s an illusion, and I don’t “trust myself” about that feeling. I do need a proper break from “things”, and a few hours in the company of an old friend. More than that, I need a few days to handle my self-care on my own, and see to the needs of the woman in the mirror. Having come face-to-face with the unexpected existence of internalized self-directed misogyny still lingering in the way that I treat myself, it’s time to do something to heal that wound. I don’t know if a 4-day roadtrip is sufficient to do that work (it’s a lot), but it is at least a beginning. I am a big fan of beginnings. 🙂

…Isn’t each moment a small new beginning all its own…?

A yawn splits my face. I finish this coffee – probably the first of several, this morning. There’s definitely at least going to be one more following this one. lol My back aches. My head aches. The tears have dried up. That’s something. The steady whir of the A/C in the background softly suggests napping. I’m so tired.
“Soon enough,” I tell myself, “the work day will end, and it’ll be time to sleep again.” Probably make an early night of it. What else can I do? I’ve got to get some sleep before I drive a long distance or I’ll be at risk of falling asleep at the wheel. That’d be a poor choice. Safety first.

I look over my To-Do List… today seems the sort of day I’m likely to forget things. I check the list. There are still a couple items to toss in the car… my camera bag, the emergency satellite communicator, coffee beans, and my power brick for charging things. I’m glad I’ve got a list. I sit awhile wondering if I’ve overlooked anything. Coffee filters. I add them to the list. I print off the registration and window tag for each of my planned campsites; having them will be handy.

…I remember to take my morning medications (it was too early when I woke)…

I let my mind wander to the roadtrip ahead. I’m looking forward to the journey, and also looking forward to the camping. I’ve got some “new gear” to enjoy, like the fire pit we got for camping with the pickup – it’s well-suited to solo adventures, too, compact and light-weight, easy to store, easy to use… and because it is both a cook stove and also a heater, by design, I am planning on cooking real food while I camp instead of relying on dehydrated and freeze-dried food (which has been my usual practice for years). I’m excited about that. The little coffee grinder & pour-over setup that I’ve got now is also an exciting “upgrade” in gear; still compact, it will mean having a really excellent cup of very fresh coffee while I’m camping, instead of my usual “downgrade” to instant. 😀 Both items were recommended by my Traveling Partner, and it feels good to enjoy them with him in mind. I’m grateful for those suggestions, they’ll definitely be an improvement on my usual ways. 😀

I laugh outloud when I look over this morning’s post; I’ve obviously gone entirely too far with this. Definitely one of those 1500+ words posts. LOL …And my coffee is gone. Finished. Clearly, it’s time to set this aside and begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, gratitude, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer

A Studious Approach

July 13, 2023 //
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Interesting week so far, and already almost over. I finally “have time” to pause and reflect. My visit with my therapist yesterday was… eye-opening. Revelatory. Inspiring? I’ve got a lot to reflect on, is what I’m saying. I was even overcome with a fairly urgent feeling need to be alone, to be in a place/time with the freedom to reflect at great length and at leisure, and maybe talk it over with someone dear to me… but also quite removed from my direct experience. An old friend. Another woman. Someone with more lived experience.

Talking things over with my Traveling Partner the words sort of just tumbled out and a plan developed in the moment I spoke. I decided to take advantage of an opening on the work calendar to get some time away, alone. My plan is to drive down the coastal highway, see an old friend, camp for a night or two, and head home again.

Later today, unrelated other than part of my experience and journey, and one of the many things to reflect upon, generally, I see a sleep specialist. One I have not previously seen. It took almost an hour to fill out the sleep questionnaire. It was very thorough. As is so often the case, I find it difficult to fill out such forms; my answers are often don’t fit neatly into the “often? sometimes? never?” options provided. I’m always writing in the margins! I check “never” – then opine that it’s not actually never, just very rare. Or I pick “sometimes”, but feel compelled to explain that when it’s going on, it’s actually “often”. That kind of thing. Like… routinely. It’s hard to fill out forms. I’m not “typical”. LOL The answers I want to give are thorough, nuanced, and given context – anything less feels like I’m not able to share my experience correctly. It’s probably a bit much for the medical professional that has to read it. Still… I am hopeful as I prepare for the appointment.

Summery weather of late. I don’t mind. I’m in less pain, generally, when the weather is warm or hot, and quite dry. I sit for a minute, giving myself “room to just be” and paying attention to my body. Pain today? Yeah. Arthritis is about a 3 today… manageable. My headache? Just at this moment, in this specific position, for the time being… it isn’t a headache. Just a bit of tension in that left levator of scapula (or is it the supraspinatus? I’m not sure, honestly, I just live in this meat suit!). It all seems connected somehow… the shoulder pain, the neck pain, the headaches… a weird crescent of pain that feels as if I am balancing it between my shoulder and my ear somehow. Meh. I let it go. I’m okay-ish today.

I think about things my therapist said about things I’d said. I think about my relationship with the woman in the mirror. She deserves better than I give her. I could for sure do better, and I find myself considering the idea that I’ve maybe been “stepping through” a lot of self-care practices in a “tick the box” fashion, without genuine care and affection, just… getting it done. Surviving life, coping with trauma, but not really “being there for myself” in an honest emotional heartfelt genuinely loving way. Wild to say so. Annoying to be aware that this really might be the case even after all this time and work. It’s a journey, though, isn’t it? A process of discovery and self-discovery, of learning and growing, of getting from there to here to over there further on? The journey is the destination, and I suppose I could be grateful to continue to put one foot after the other, over time, and continuing to make actual progress. 😀

…I guess I’ll begin again… again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Sometimes Love is Like Jazz

June 2, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about love. I’m listening to jazz in the background – nice change from the insipid pop tracks that are often playing in the co-work space. I am reminded of a quote attributed to Miles Davis, “It’s not the note you play that’s the wrong note – it’s the note you play afterwards that makes it right or wrong.” Sometimes love is like that. Some moment of miscommunication, or a misstep in the way we treat each other, feels “off”, like a “wrong note” in an otherwise beautiful piece of music… and it does very much seem to matter greatly what comes next, maybe even more so than that “wrong note” itself.

I sat down to write this morning grateful for the quiet time to reflect and write before this morning’s unusually busy Friday meeting calendar; back to back for about 4 and half hours. Ouch. My phone rang – before 0600, which was entirely unexpected, but… it was my Traveling Partner. I hadn’t replied to his text messages, of which there were… several. My “do not disturb” settings go to 0600, though, so I didn’t get notifications on those, and didn’t expect to hear from him either. He was alarmed that I didn’t respond, so he called. Fair enough. He expressed surprise that I was already at my desk, and concerned that I wasn’t out walking. I felt surprised that he didn’t remember me bitching about my meeting calendar and that I planned to go into the co-work space since my meetings would begin quite early compared to most days. Somehow, the interaction was less affectionate than it was… something quite different than that. lol Shit.

The morning is a chilly one, and I ache. After the “off moment” with my Traveling Partner this morning (which managed to feel rather “parental” in tone), I’m sort of cross. I know I can move past it. I’m just annoyed to have started the day thinking I’d have this quiet time “entirely to myself”, only to become mired in ruminations, anxiety, and finding myself juggling my baggage. Human, I suppose. Pretty annoying though.

…It’s bizarrely difficult (for me) to get even an hour of completely uninterrupted quiet time for reflection and writing, sometimes, which is it’s own self-care issue worthy of consideration… some other time, perhaps.

Here’s the thing – back to that quote I started on – it matters more what follows that “off moment”, than the moment itself. Whether I react. How I respond. What I say in reply to what has been said. How I choose to take the circumstances as they come. I can do/say/think about it in ways that aggravate things further – or I can “let small things stay small” and practice compassion, openness, empathy, and non-attachment, and move on to enjoy the day as it unfolds. No, I’m not saying it’s “easy” – there are definitely verbs involved, and the effort is “all mine”, at least inasmuch as I only control my own actions, words, and thoughts. My results vary. A lot. I’ve got room to grow and improve. I can do better. So…

…Looks like time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

Waking With The Sun

June 1, 2023 //
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Summer is approaching. Mornings, here, are sometimes still chilly. Night time temperatures still fall well below 50 F/10 C. Things cool off before the sun warms them once more. Some afternoons barely hit 70 F/21 C. Pretty comfortable weather, generally, and very good for sleeping… I wake with the sun a lot of mornings in spite of that. Like this morning. It’s nice quiet time for reflection, though, if I wake thoroughly and don’t find myself stumbling groggily through the first hours of the day.

This particular morning I am sipping my coffee and watching the sky beyond the windows change color, hints of pale grays and strange blues give way to peach, lavender, pink, and hints of orange as the sun rises. Pretty. I think about the flowers in the garden. I think about my upcoming birthday (11 days away, now) and our planned camping trip (5 days!). I think about pain, and pain management, and these stiff contrary bones. I think about recent delicious meals, and how much I appreciate my Traveling Partner’s cooking, and how nice it is that he’s been doing more of that lately. Good times, shared. I think about that, too. No misery here. It’s a pleasant morning. I think about the weekend ahead. I think about spending time in the studio… which competes for my attention, alongside “time in the garden”, “time on the trail”, and “time off-roading with my partner”.

Planted these last fall, and I’ve already forgotten what they are, other than “pretty”.

I pause my musings long enough to really appreciate how fortunate I am to enjoy so much of this life, so thoroughly. “This too shall pass.” Good times are wonderful. Savoring them, and reflecting on them, is delightful and healthy. Healing. Still, part of the point in doing so is to ensure they become part of my implicit memory as well, and a well-spring of future resilience upon which I can call when times are darker, and life feels less rich and satisfying. Just keeping it real; my results vary. I have some rough moments here and there. You too? We all do.

I write less often these days. Not because there’s nothing to say, nor because I am wrapped in joy 100% of my time, nor am I, contrariwise, wrapped in misery. I’m just over here living life. I write less because, honestly, I spent much less time in solitary reflection, and less time forcing myself through practices to pull myself out of some messy emotional quagmire. I live. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Succeed. Fail. Begin again. I try. I explore. I set boundaries. I yield to circumstances. It’s life. It’s not perfect, but it’s also quite a lot better than “just okay”. I sometimes feel I am on the edge of “thriving full-time”, which is pretty remarkable, considering the entirety of my experience.

I sip my coffee feeling my moment shift gears from “quiet reflection” to feeling filled with gratitude and love. It’s a nice start to a new day. I smile and think about my partner, at home, still sleeping. My heart beats with love.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

Memorials and Demons

May 30, 2023 //
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Memorial Day is sometimes a hard one (for me). The days leading up to it this year were particularly difficult, though I don’t really have a reason why. I’ve lost a few folks over the years. That will never not be true in my life; once we lose the first one, it’s all “more” from there. Spent some time over the weekend reflecting on those losses, and those people. I spent the time with my Traveling Partner, and it was a very healing time we managed to share. I’m grateful.

Losses are hard. We feel our own pain most (and worst, generally). Running from it doesn’t change it – the way out is through. The challenge is not getting stalled in the momentary misery of grief.

The weekend was summery, and fairly mild. We got out among the trees. I got out into the garden. We drove beautiful miles and shared deep conversations. I needed that. We both did, I guess, and we’re better for it.

I’m sipping my morning coffee a bit surprised at how poorly I slept last night after a couple days of extraordinarily good sleep, deep and restful… last night my anxiety flared up with the recollection that today is a work day. Silly, but real. I woke numerous times to double-check that my “sunrise alarm” was actually set. It was. Every time I checked. lol It remains true that a few days of healing and emotionally gentle and nourishing time don’t “fix” anxiety. It comes and goes. My results vary. This morning I got up and managed to start the day without taking it personally or escalating it beyond the obvious; it’s disordered, and there is no reason to feed it and give it more energy.

I smile when I think about the weekend, and my Traveling Partner. Good times.

…Time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being
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