Archives for category: Frustration

I’m feeling aggravated. I’m awash in it. I’m maybe even… angry. Frustrated, certainly. Dealing with it? Meh. Mostly. The effort involved in maintaining appropriate emotional regulation at the “work day level” is… hard sometimes. Super hard. I resist the change in mood, in tone, in facial expression – but I feel those, and they’re real. I keep pulling my focus back to work; it’s what this portion of the day is for.

…Breathe… Exhale… Relax… Let it go… Begin again…

I just keep at it, but it sure isn’t “easy”. My patience is being thoroughly tested. My resilience challenged. Hard is… hard. This is that. Hard.

…We become what we practice…

I don’t practice calm to impress anyone. I practice calm to cultivate calm, and to build resilience, and just to be the woman I most want to be – she’s calm. Reliably so.

I breathe, and practice gratitude. I exhale, and practice empathy, kindness, consideration, understanding… Eventually, I’ll also relax. I keep at it. It takes practice.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

Does it matter what I’m irked over? Nope. Not even a little bit. Does it matter who or what has provoked me? Barely at all – it’s the outcome that matters. The actions. The behavior. Dealing with the moment. The practices don’t change that much. The need doesn’t change that much. I feel some comfort knowing that continued practice reliably results in real change; we become what we practice. The journey is the destination – and in that sense, the practices themselves, and “doing the thing”, are what matter most. There are no shortcuts to being the person we each most want to be. There are practices involved. Verbs. Self-reflection. Awareness. There’s also acknowledging failures, and making amends. There is beginning again.

My irritation (and my anger) are real. Feelings are not our enemy. It’s still most critical to behave in the way that is most appropriate. Most… “right”. (Which is ridiculously subjective, since we’re each having our own experience. No easy answers.) I breathe, exhale, and relax. Cheating myself of self-awareness with regard to my emotions doesn’t get me anywhere good. It’s just not helpful. Neither is lashing out at someone else. Just, like… ever. It’s just not worthwhile. Sure, it’s possible to come back from it, to sort it out and make it right, but… the damage is done. The damage lingers. The scars remain. We pick up baggage over a lifetime – setting it down and moving on can be hard.

…We become what we practice…

I sigh quietly. I set work aside for the moment, because I’m just too g’damned angry to focus or do good work. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Take a few minutes to jot down some words, and “get things off my chest” (but without “venting” some ridiculous quantity of anger into shared space, potentially wrecking someone else’s experience; the science is in, “venting” doesn’t reduce anger). A few moments. A few words. I make room for self-care – because, frankly, as an adult, who else is actually going to care for me? Sometimes the only person available is going to be me. I’m always “here”. I can at least do myself the favor of being my own best friend, and “being here” in a real way for myself in some challenging moment.

What are you practicing? Does it keep you on the path of being the person you most want to be? Do you respect your choices and the way you treat people? It’s worth considering what you practice – particularly with regard to anger. Feelings are feelings – what you do to express them matters. Once they’re “out in the world”, they affect other people every bit as much as they affect you.

…I remind myself that having the perspective that a given bit of behavior is “understandable” or “excusable under the circumstances” or mitigated by some set of conditions or circumstances doesn’t make it desirable, or what I want or expect of myself. I give some thought to what I expect from myself – and what I want from myself – and then I begin again. It’s a journey. Change takes practice.

…Breathe…Exhale…Relax…

Practice.

I’m taking some time at the end of an endless seeming day (it’s this headache is all, it’s very tedious) to tinker a bit with the new OS on my desktop PC. I’m tickled by its speed – pretty snappy – and how intuitive (generally) it is to use. Win. I’m spending a few minutes getting “moved in” and figuring out some essentials (like importing passwords and bookmarks, setting up a new browser, and various sorts of housekeeping details to make this space feel more like… “home”). I’m no expert. I’m just mucking about with things that are low risk/high reward… pairing my elegant Bluetooth keyboard, restoring bookmarks for sites I visit often, and hey – even writing a short blog post to “get the feel” of this new “place” where I may be spending quite a bit of time…

I learn a few things about my new OS as I noodle around. Hell, I learn some things about other apps I use – and a few I’d rather not be using at all (looking your way, MS Office, and Google Photos). I find myself “falling in love” all over again with a couple apps that suddenly work so much better on this OS than on a Windows OS (don’t bother me with Apple notions, I’m not into it). It’s a fun adventure – and surprisingly low stress. I don’t know whether to attribute that to my Traveling Partners expertise and willingness to help any time – or personal growth of some sort, but here I am – having a good time, getting some things done. Neat.

I find myself working on exporting photos that currently live on Google Photos… the time has come to move away from that monstrosity in favor of something more secure and more private. 😀

…My Traveling Partner calls to me from the other room, seeking some assistance (out of reach tools that I’m happy to bring to him). Somehow it turns into me getting yelled at, after I ask a clarifying question. Between my headache making me potentially kind of dumb (though still eager to meet the need), and his condition recovering from a procedure making him potentially more easily frustrated (although appreciative of my help), tempers flare. I walk away, returning to the quiet of my studio, and this purposeful activity that is somehow much less fun, now. I try not to linger in this shitty moment – it’s hard.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s probably time to make some dinner and begin again.

G’damn, yesterday kind of sucked. I was in so much pain that managing it required more effort than usual and I ended up spending a notable portion of the day just laying down. I didn’t get shit done… like,  not anything, beyond making waffles for breakfast. Today I’m in less pain (so far), but my allergies are bad. I’ve already gone through an entire travel pack of tissues, and I’ve only been awake an hour and a half.

Yesterday didn’t go all that well, generally. Between my pain, my Traveling Partner’s pain, and various complications of managing chronic pain day-to-day, the result was an unfortunate amount of poor communication, inadequate mood-management, and vexatious terseness with each other that was the opposite of “getting along”. I’ve rarely felt so unwelcome in my relationship. I’m definitely not casting any blame; neither of us was up to delivering our best in the way of support,  encouragement, kind words, affection, or even a welcoming presence,  like, at all. It was unpleasant, but could have been ever so much worse. I sometimes wonder if we (either or both of us) fail ourselves – and each other – by being too tolerant or accommodating of poor behavior because we do both know just how much worse it so easily could be, because we’ve both had those other much worse experiences in prior relationships…? We for sure could potentially have done more, better, to treat each other well yesterday. We didn’t. We’re both quite human. It was on my mind when I woke this morning, and as I dressed and slipped out of the house with as much consideration for my partner’s sleep as I could muster.

I went to bed feeling frustrated and a bit peeved. I woke feeling only concern and love, and wanting to soothe my partner and invest positive emotional energy in the day ahead. Here’s hoping that works out for us both.

New day, new perspective, new opportunity.

I hit the trail feeling hopeful and stronger than yesterday, and substantially recovered from the exertion of my camping trip, and subsequent return. I feel up to tackling a good couple miles along the river and the edge of the marsh, and feel optimistic about following through on my list of shit yet to do, before the new week begins. Feels pretty good – definitely better than yesterday!

At my turn around point I sit for a few minutes listening to the birds and breezes, and the traffic in the distance. Memorial Day. Hey, I’m not feeling weighed down by grief and grieving, this year… remarkable. I sit with my feelings awhile. Gratitude and a moment to contemplate those who have fallen, with fond thanks, and soft sorrow… seems enough this year. I’m okay.

I sigh out loud, and breathe the Spring air deeply, taking in the scent of flowers. I think about my Traveling Partner, still sleeping at home (I hope), getting the rest he needs. The sun climbs higher, warming my shoulders as I sit, watching the river flow past. I hope today is mellow and cheery and relaxed. We both need that visceral experience of being wrapped in love and in the good company of someone dear to us. I’ll do my best to deliver… painfully aware that “my best” yesterday was not even close to “good enough”. How do I make ammends for my part in yesterday’s unsatisfying experience? I sit with my thoughts awhile longer…

I hear voices approaching from somewhere down the trail. Must be time to move on. lol I get to my feet, and prepare to head back to the car, and on to the next moment. It’s already time to begin again. Hopefully my results today are better than yesterday… they do vary.

I woke feeling vaguely irritated and feeling discontented and annoyed in advance of any annoyances. Rude start to the day. I woke feeling dissatisfied… with… life? That seems pretty fucking silly, all things considered, and I spent the drive to the office turning it over in my head. There’s a song that somehow seems to fit, though I haven’t yet pinned down why that is. It’s not a new song, nor a song I’ve listened to recently… it just “speaks to me” in this peculiar moment of discontent and aggravation.

…There’s nothing “wrong” with the moment or day, so far…

…I’m just feeling annoyed. It would be much easier to deal with this and put it to rest if I understood why.

I sigh and take a breath, and exhale, and relax, letting my shoulders drop, and my jaw unclench. Weird morning.

This life of mine is perhaps not the problem at all… could be I’m just feeling the weight of the world this morning. That’s baggage no one can carry for long. I sigh again, burdened by this all too human struggle. I reach for a song that sings to a different tune, hoping to change my mind. Feelings of discontent can become corrosive, left to build and become attached to something real… That’s not an experience I enjoy. I keep “setting down my baggage” and trying to restart my moment from a new perspective.

…I find myself missing a dear friend I’d have gone to for conversation and perspective in a moment like this, and my eyes fill with tears. …There’s a hole in my heart… We are mortal creatures. I suddenly feel “wrapped in loneliness” on top of feeling discontented. Shit. That’s not what I was going for at all. (Change is.)

G’damn… I guess I really need to get away from “all of it”… except… I’m relentlessly aware that I’ll be dragging the shit griefing me most right along with me wherever I go. Fucking hell. I guess I’m just feeling low this morning. 😦 I wipe the tears off my cheeks and remind myself “this too will pass” – change is.

I sigh again (it’s just that kind of morning, I guess), and hope that my Traveling Partner got the rest he needed, and hope to get myself sorted out before the day ends – I’d definitely rather not drag this shit home with me at the end of the day.

I’m looking forward to my camping trip. Life is feeling way too busy and complicated lately, and I’m exhausted on this whole other level. Wrung out from day-to-day routine effort and the emotional burden of being a human being in a world of chaos, violence, and petty ugliness – I need a break. What do I even do when I’m camping to get that “break”? I sit quietly a lot, listening to the breezes and watching small creatures living their lives. I sit watching the leaves flutter and the changing light filtered through the trees as the sun moves across the sky. I let my mind sort of “empty out” and “catch up” on all the shit I didn’t have time to consider more fully. I walk. I wander. I take pictures of things that catch my eye, and perspectives I might like to see again, some time later. I write, mostly poetry and bits of self-reflection. I read. I meditate. It’s not fancy, and it’s not complicated by “activities” in any planned way. I’m not trying to “occupy my time” – quite the opposite, actually, I’m trying to “rest my mind” and calm my heart. I don’t know a lot of ways of doing that, or any ways more effective than just… getting away, and giving myself time.

…Soon…

Isn’t it odd that we human creatures can find so much silly bullshit to feel vexed by or annoyed over, even in the context of a generally good life? It strikes me as quite strange and rather stupid that this is the case, and I find myself wondering what purpose such a thing may have served when we were more primitive creatures seeking to make our way in the world? I make a note to ask my therapist for his thoughts on these vague feelings of discontent, and how I can potentially make use of them more constructively – with fewer tears, less sorrow, and a whole lot less aggravating stupid emotional bullshit to wade through. I roll my eyes, even as I recognize that I’m being a little hard on myself; human is human. Sometimes it’s messy, and we don’t exactly teach “dealing with emotions” to children skillfully, such that they grow up with the tools to do the job well. I’m still learning… and somehow, I persist in thinking I should be past that by now… then remember, again, that the journey is the destination, and that the point seems to be the learning, itself.

…Another sigh. A sip of coffee. A glance at the clock. Well, shit. It’s time to begin again…

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?