Archives for category: Frustration
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When Practice Has to Pay Off

October 30, 2024 //
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So far pretty nearly everything this morning has gone at least a little bit wrong, starting with the restless night of poor quality sleep that preceded the start of the day. Realistically, I know to expect some days will be like this, and this one is certainly one of those.

I woke up on time, and even remembered the errand my Traveling Partner asked me to handle before I went to the office (getting the mail), while kindly expressing reservations about asking me to do more, out of concern for my fatigue and the amount of pain I’ve been in day-to-day. That was a pretty good start, and I would leave it there and overlook the smaller stuff (I tried), but as shit started going wrong, it got harder…

… I’d failed to lay out clothes for the work day and stumbled through my morning routine self-conscious about the noise I was obviously making…

… I spilled iced tea all over the floor while setting up my partner’s morning beverages…

…as I was picking up the mail, i dropped it into the street as I returned to the car and then shut my hand in the car door while trying to put my seatbelt on, to return the mail to the house…

… the coffee place I prefer (lowest price, best black coffee) was closed – the opening barista never showed up…

… the backup coffee stand was slow, and the coffee is pretty awful…

… traffic was bad and I got stuck behind a line of cars all stuck behind a truck going 40 mph on the highway during the commuter “rush”…

…I got to the trailhead too late to get a walk in at all (or write)…

… my medication alarm went off as I prepared to give up on my routine altogether, startling me, and my shaking hands fumbled my pillbox, tossing my entire day’s meds all over the floor of the car, much of which I never did find at all…

The drive to the office was thankfully entirely uneventful in every way. I’m not sure I could have endured another misstep this morning!

A less than ideal start to the day, for sure, and I’m “still dealing with it”, like ripples on a pond after throwing a rock into still water. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The office is quiet – and also uncomfortably cold. G’damn, what is with this day?? I sigh, and think of my Traveling Partner’s voice, saying “I’m worried about you. I depend on you. Slow down. Take care of you.” He’d be right to suggest that I slow down, although I don’t feel any sense of moving quickly, it surely couldn’t hurt to slow down and be measured and considerate with my movements, decisions, and even my thoughts.

I take the time to make a pour-over in the office break kitchen – a properly good cup of coffee will help, just by being a comforting ritual, and a pleasant moment. I remind myself, for perspective, that there will be other sunrises, other walks, and more pleasant easier other mornings – no need to take this one so personally. It definitely isn’t personal, just circumstances. Another breath, and a renewed commitment to non-attachment is also helpful. I make time to meditate, and let the morning’s aggravation fall away. It’s behind me now. I can begin again. It’s so easy to burn through limited emotional resilience in a few minutes of aggravation over small shit – and it can be challenging to restore what has been lost, but it’s for sure not impossible. I slow down, slower, and let myself have a few minutes to write and reflect and gain perspective. I breathe, exhale, and relax – and repeat as needed. I make a point to notice that I arrived at the office very much “on time” in every sense of the word, and in theory this puts the whole day back on track, aside from the spilled pills.

…No use crying over spilled milk pills…

I smile, and feel some of my tension dissolve; I’ve got a small assortment of “back up meds” that I keep in the office, mostly to ensure I don’t miss them if I forget to grab the day’s medication on my way out of the house some morning. Part of coping with a brain injury is an assortment of “tactical practices” that anticipate common challenges. My results vary – but I’m familiar with my most common “fail points”, and it’s a small thing to plan ahead for such occurences, so I do. (I mean, I try; my results vary.) My sense of “timing” still feels a little off, and somehow this cup of coffee tastes vaguely like curry (which is super weird, but fortunately I don’t find that to be an unpleasant flavor). I’m okay for most values of “okay”, and restarting the day feels within reach.

…So I do that…

It’s a new day. There are no bombs dropping on my town. There are no wildfires burning nearby. The autumn weather is relatively mild and rather pleasant. My pain seems to be at a relatively ordinary and rather manageable level today. I missed my walk, sure, but the sun will rise shortly, and the office is in a safe neighborhood; I can walk over my lunch break. I have a good sense of what I need to get done today at work, and that feels manageable, too. I make some oatmeal, sip my weird coffee, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Joy Where I Find It

October 27, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead listening to the rain drumming on the moon roof of the car. I can see clear skies here and there in spite of the rain and the predawn darkness, so I’m expecting this to be a passing shower and hope to wait it out before I hit the trail. I enjoy the sound of it, and for the moment I can imagine life without my tinnitus.

The drive this morning was delightful. There was no traffic. I don’t mean to say there were very few cars on the road, which is generally quite pleasant. It was better than that. I had the highway entirely to myself, aside from one car going in the opposite direction. The soaking rain storms in the night left the highway glistening. Autumn leaves clung damply where they fell. A sliver of moon peeked from between pearly puffs of clouds scattered across the night sky. It was quite wonderful. Still is, as I sit here waiting for a break in the rain and enough light to safely walk the trail. Even now, there’s very little traffic passing by on the nearby highway, and no one else here in the parking lot of the nature park. Lovely quiet solitary moment, and I sit within it, joyful and at ease.

… For a few joyful moments my background stress recedes to nothing and I am truly content, joyful, and calm…

I haven’t been sleeping well. Last night was unexceptional in that regard. It’s a combination of work stress (very busy time), life stress (my Traveling Partner is going through a lot and it requires much from me to support everything he needs), and election stress. I admit it, I’m really struggling with that last one. I so earnestly want to believe that we’re smart enough and have learned enough, not to put a treasonous, dishonest, mentally impaired, lying, misogynist, rapist, fraudster back into the oval office, and that surely – if nothing else – Americans don’t hate women enough to put us through that? But I honestly don’t know. Is misogyny still so prevalent that we’ll use any excuse to avoid electing a highly competent woman – even if it means putting the nation in the hands of an old man so clearly in the throes of serious mental decline? Scary. So very very scary. It’s actually wrecking my sleep, I am that worried about it.

I sigh. I’m so grateful for this quiet moment of real joy dropped unexpectedly into this stressful time. I really need all the joy I can find right now. The smallest moment of delight is worthy of my attention.

I sit with my thoughts. I am thinking about love, and how much it matters to me. I am thinking about my Traveling Partner, frustrated by the slow progress of his recovery, and wondering how I can be more encouraging, a better partner, and what other things I could do to be helpful. Recovering from an injury and surgery is hard, and demands a lot. I sometimes worry I’m failing to do my part to foster a hope-filled and uplifting environment in which recovery feels inevitable. I’d definitely like him to have that feeling. Caregiving is complicated and I still have so much to learn.

… I find so much joy in this relationship. I’m glad we’re “sharing the journey”…

The rain stops, then starts. It’s still quite early. I smile to myself. I’m okay right now. This is a delightful moment. I accept it as it is, and savor the experience. It’s enough, at least for now. Later, I’ll walk the trail, and run some errands on my way home… And begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being

What About Time?

October 25, 2024 //
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My timing is off this morning. I reached the trailhead too late to get a walk in before work. Disappointing. It’s a cold morning. I can walk later, over my lunch break, I guess. Where did the time even go, I wonder? I feel as if perhaps I’ve simply been moving slower, or didn’t account for needing to stop to put gas in the car. Something. Or maybe something else.

I’m mildly amused with myself and also a bit aggravated. I feel as though I am “distracted”, but as a state of being rather than a momentary condition. I don’t know what to do about it. My thoughts bounce and jitter, scraps and fragments, incomplete and inconsequential. It doesn’t bode well for the work day ahead.

I think about the weekend, instead. I’d like to paint. No studio. No room for it right now; my Traveling Partner has his new watchmaker’s lathe and it’s assorted parts and tools spread out on the dining table, being patiently cleaned up, assembled, and put to various uses for the first time. It’s a fascinating and delightful vintage tool, and I’m tickled to see it. No resentment over it, at all, but there is no room on that table for spreading out pastels and art supplies for work of a very different sort, and I seriously doubt any good would come of getting the delicate machine works of the lathe dusted with various pigments. lol I sit quietly thinking about where else I could go, and regretting that I don’t yet have a proper plein air setup ready. Last time I thought about it, I thought to myself “soon enough”… And clearly I was incorrect. lol

I sigh quietly and feel a pang of sorrow. I’d laugh about this with my Dear Friend and commiserate over the many untimely inconveniences of life, but she’s gone now. G’damn that sucks. Tears fill my eyes and I snarl at them dismissively.

At my last therapy visit, my therapist calmly noted that I “don’t really need therapy at this point”, and that I am “simply very sensitive and feel things very deeply”. He pointed out that I have the tools I need to handle most circumstances, and that although I have PTSD to deal with, it’s less a matter of acute mental illness and more an assortment of manageable concerns that are part of living my life. While it feels good to hear that, I guess, it’s also frustrating in the way any “disability” can be. It feels limiting and a bit “unfair”. He’s very correct about one thing that sticks with me; paying to see him and talk for an hour can’t replace the joy and connection of time spent with a dear friend.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I remind myself to reach out to old friends and stay caught up and connected.

…I remind myself to begin again, while there’s time.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, loneliness, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

Introspection, Self-reflection, Rumination

October 24, 2024 //
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I’m sitting with my thoughts, quietly (aside from the ringing in my ears). It is a foggy autumn morning, and a heavy mist clings moodily to the low places and along the creeks and rivers. The morning is a cold one, the coldest so far this season. I am mildly annoyed with myself; I am not dressed for the weather. I laid out my clothes last night based on assumptions of milder temperatures without checking the weather forecast, which was foolish.

… Reality does not care what we believe…

I’m sort of “all up in my head” this morning. By itself, absent any context, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and I am fortunate to enjoy my own company. In this quiet early morning time, I often find myself in this mental place, blending introspection and self reflection.

Words, defined.

I sit considering those definitions for some minutes. I’m not sure I agree 100% with attempting to sort them out as “internal” vs “external”. They’re both processes of the mind, which seems to me makes them both very much internal processes. Meaning matters. I wonder for a little while whether it’s worth making the attempt to define them more clearly, before realizing it’s a distraction from my actual thoughts.

Rumination is very different from either introspection or self-reflection, and it’s a difference that matters quite a lot. Rumination is getting mired in negative thinking and negative self-talk. It’s a problem to be avoided as much as possible. Rumination is a poor practice.

Having sorted all that out rather pointlessly, I let my thoughts move on. I’m mostly sitting here on this rock at my halfway point thinking about what a long and sometimes tedious journey it’s been to get to this place, over time. The ongoing fight to build, achieve, and sustain good mental health has been (often still is)…hard. I’m not sure I’d call my results wholly successful, some days.

My Traveling Partner pings me. He’s concerned about a birthday gift I purchased for him potentially having been a poor choice of vendor. He shares the reviews. I see his point and agree to cancel the order in favor of a more reputable vendor. My thoughts are completely scattered now, like autumn leaves. I’m frustrated by that. I’m frustrated by the recurring feeling that I don’t get “first dibs” on my own consciousness – or so it often seems. I sigh and save my writing for another time, and finish my walk in the predawn autumn darkness.

… I can begin again, later…

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Crabby and Resentful

October 23, 2024 //
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I woke up feeling mostly okay-ish, but by the time I was in the car and heading towards another work day I was feeling pretty crabby. I found myself feeling rather foolishly resentful, not about anything specific, just the expected basics of a typical adult life weighing me down.

The whole “working for a living” thing is actually a serious buzz kill most days, not gonna lie. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m grateful; I’ve got a good job, it pays for what we need, and I like the work I do – but I sure wouldn’t be bored to be able to live on my own terms, and I definitely don’t mind not working. I actually quite like having my time be my own.

… There are so many books yet to read, so many moments of inspiration to paint, trails to hike, conversations to have with interesting people, and so much love to enjoy…

I sigh quietly. I’m mostly resigned to it at this point (I have yearned for retirement since I was 18, but lacked the tools, knowledge, and foresight to make that a reality at the time, and here I am). Still gets to me some mornings, on my way to work.

I get to the trailhead. It’s dark, but I’m walking anyway. I lace up my boots and exchange a few messages with my Traveling Partner, surprised that he’s already up. I’m glad he exists in my world.  To be clear, none of my resentment about working is directed toward him, or about him at all; it’s 100% about the culture and the weird expectations of what counts as “productive” in our society. I frankly have better shit to do with my finite mortal lifetime and my conscious waking hours than putting them in servitude to someone else’s profit, but here we are, eh? If I want those drab green squares of paper and positive numbers on my balance sheet, I’ve got to sell my life an hour at a time.

I shrug off my annoyance. It’s a spooky foggy autumn morning. The fog clings to the marsh. It’s chilly – definitely autumn – and I’m grateful for this warm fleece. I pull my scarf and gloves out of my gear box in the back of the car. They smell vaguely of summer. I wrap the scarf around my neck grateful for the extra warmth and that I am so well prepared. I grab my cane and my headlamp and hit “save”. It’s time to get going. This trail isn’t going to walk itself. I’m fortunate to have this time to enjoy, walking with my thoughts on an autumn morning.

… When I get back to the car, I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being
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