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Have a Merry One

December 20, 2023 //
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This morning I woke from the kind of rest I generally only daydream of enjoying. I dreamt, sure, wholesome playful surreal dreams with no hint of terror or anxiety. I slept deeply – my sleep tracker even agrees with me. I woke early, yes, but… I woke in a natural way, feeling rested, undisturbed, just finished with sleeping. I even woke feeling alert and “sorted out”, as if indeed my sleep were truly restful, restorative, and refreshing. Nice change of pace after several days of waking groggy and confused from restless anxious dreams and interrupted sleep that seemed wholly inadequate and left me feeling prone to tears or stupid and dull-witted.

I dressed for the day without much thought, gathered up my things, handled what seemed an effortless commute into the city. Made coffee when I arrived at the office, and started my day. Comfortable. Rested. Calm. Content. Even… merry. For real, unforced, gentle background merriment, as if all is well in the world. Realistically, I know its only this tiny slice of the world, this one limited moment, and as with all things, at some point this too will pass. I’m okay with it; I’ve got this here, now. It’s enough.

I feel the soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. This is a good beginning to the day. I drink it in, as I drink my coffee, which, rather like the moment, manages to be quite ordinary in all regards, while also quite pleasant. This? Right here? This is the “state of being” I strive for day-to-day: calm, contented, relaxed, easy in my mind, and “merry”. I “feel great” for most values of “feeling”. Yes, I am still having to deal with physical pain – that’s why it’s called “chronic pain”, and there’s not much to do about that besides take care of myself, manage my pain as best I can, and do what I can to limit the control it has over my quality of life, generally. It’s for sure helpful to avoid taking it personally – it isn’t personal. It’s just pain. It sucks, yes, and sometimes it’s hard to pay attention to anything else. That’s just real. It’s also not “everything”. So, this morning, I notice my arthritis pain. My neck pain. My headache. I stand up, have a good stretch and double-check the ergonomics of my workstation. Then I move on with the morning.

I think about my Traveling Partner, sleeping at home, and hopefully continuing to recover from his recent injury. Being injured stresses him out. Him being stressed out stresses me out and drives quite a bit of background anxiety for me; I worry. Certainly it’s a sign of how deeply connected we really are. Nonetheless, it’s the sort of emotional feedback loop that can create a lot of chaos and emotional volatility for both of us. Last evening was pleasant and relaxed, and getting some really good sleep last night finds me feeling stable and resilient. I hope he wakes similarly refreshed, and feeling a sense of healing and progress, in spite of his frustration with being injured. I think over the evening we shared, with a smile in my heart. It reminds me that I’d said I’d go to the store on my way back from the office today – I set a reminder, and make a list.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Pull myself upright and feel my back crack in a couple places, which eases some small amount of my discomfort, but also serves to make me more aware of the places where I hurt most, now. lol Funny how that works. I guess it makes sense; what we put our attention on is what dominates our awareness. Pretty obvious when I think about it.

The clock ticks. The day begins. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

Hit That Reset Button

December 19, 2023 //
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I started the day lost in my head. It’s fine. Strange dreams. Woke feeling like maybe I’m getting a cold? Maybe not. I get the morning started, get the commute going. I end up at work much sooner than I expected, though I subjectively feel as though I “left at the usual time”? I was definitely not speeding… but the rainy weather dominated my attention, and I barely noticed how few red lights stopped me this morning. Consistent often beats “fast”. I shrug it off, set up my laptop, and make coffee. Still lost in my own head, my coffee goes cold before I ever taste it. Wild. What a weird morning.

I finally open a new window to start a bit of writing before work… I stare out the window watching the darkness slowly transition to daybreak without typing a word. Lost in thought, but without recollection. A bit like meaning to record something, but forgetting to hit “record”. Strange morning. Strange thoughts. I teeter on the edge of fatigue and alertness.

…Somehow I’ve got to start this day…

I quaff some of this cold coffee. Same coffee beans, same machine, same process of making coffee as with yesterday… this cup is not bad at all, in spite of having gone entirely cold before I got around to drinking it. It’s fine.

I sit awhile longer. Just… sitting with my random thoughts. Nothing of consequence. I’m not “happy”, “sad”, or even “indifferent”. I am, more than anything else, at least at this moment, an “empty vessel”. Like a pitcher with an unnoticed hole in the bottom, I pour my thoughts into my attention but they don’t accumulate into anything useful, they just leak right on out. lol

I take a deep breath. Pull myself upright. I’m completely out of two necessary prescriptions; the Rx’s expired without my noticing, between refills. Fucking hell. I’ll have to 1. phone them in and 2. go directly into the actual VA pharmacy and get the attention of an actual human being and make a case for filling them in person and giving them directly to me. Their system is not set up for veterans with any sort of cognitive, behavioral, or mental health issues at all. It’s almost as if they don’t actually care. I sigh out loud. I just don’t even want to think about it, deal with it, or… you know… do the thing. Fuck. I would very much like to just have the option of putting all my Rx’s onto some sort of automated process, as I have been able to do with recurring bills, you know? Easier. Better for me. Better results. Consistency.

I finally think to start a music playlist. The first track startles me out of my peculiar reverie and I feel myself begin to “come unstuck” (in a good way). Words begin to hit the page, and I end up… here. And it’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, health, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights

Deep Thoughts, Bad Coffee

December 18, 2023 //
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I hit the lottery on terrible coffee this morning. This cup is bad. Insipid. Poor flavor. Too hot to safely drink. It was made in a relatively fancy grind-to-order coffee machine in the office, and the beans in the hopper are generally of good quality and quite fresh. So…? Damn, are these actual grounds in my coffee, too? Blech. Interesting follow-up to a nearly effortless not-quite-actually-fun commute spent quietly driving while lost in thought, enjoying the lack of traffic. Fuck this is a terrible actually noteworthily bad cup of coffee. The Army makes better coffee. Reliably. lol

I sigh, and sip my coffee. Considering the state of the world, I’m fortunate to have freshly ground coffee beans and hot coffee, at all. If this small detail is my “top of mind” complaint, this morning, it’s a pretty good day, eh? I breathe and contemplate perspective for a while.

I look out onto the city from the office windows, before I start the work day. The high-rise condo tower across the park has more lights than usual, lit up with holiday lights, and Christmas trees in windows. Pretty. Down in the park itself, the trees are decked out in winter lights, and there are wreathes hung along the barrier wall that runs down one side. Also quite pretty. Festive. Day break is awhile away, yet, and there is no hint of sunrise-to-come peaking at me in the reflections of office windows. Not yet. It’s dark, and it’s early. It’s quiet in the office, and I’m alone here. The only sound is the hushed woosh of the heating, and the tappa-tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Peaceful.

I frown into my absolutely terrible coffee that I’m nonetheless fortunate to have, and for which I am grateful, and wonder why human beings are so loathe to embrace peace? What makes us such ridiculously unrepentantly violent creatures so willing to excuse heinous acts against other human beings? If you think you’ve got what it takes to shake your head, reject that notion, and say “well, not me…”, I’ve got to ask you what your personal position is on genocide? How about immigration? School shootings? Police brutality? Prison labor? Honor killings? “Crimes of passion”? Femicide? That asshole who pissed you off in traffic? As a species, we’re barely fucking housebroken, let alone “domesticated”, or “civilized”. We make more time to justify our individual wrong-headedness and bad acts than we do actually making an effort to create a society that supports and betters all humankind while also minimizing the “collateral damage” to the rest of the creatures and the ecosystem we’ve all got to share. We’re way into “us vs them” bullshit. I sigh outloud and sip my coffee. My seasonally timely seeming musings don’t get me anywhere, really. Just thoughts over coffee that inevitably lead me back to the question I begin most of my days with, “how can I do better today to be the woman I most want to be, than I did yesterday?” My results vary.

I feel a somewhat cynical smile on my face. I recommit to an “easy win”; today I won’t kill anyone, won’t break anything, won’t do any damage (where I can recognize that likely outcome), and I won’t act in anger against another creature, or destroy property. Seems easy enough. I pass most of my days in this fashion. I feel a latent vague anger seething in the background; it just doesn’t seem hard to choose to refrain from violence, and yet… there is so much of it in the world. Another sigh. Another sip of coffee. Another beginning.

I think back on the weekend. I spent it hanging out with (and doing things for) my Traveling Partner, while he continues to recover from an injury. He’s rarely injured, and being even somewhat incapacitated (or at all limited) really frustrates him and causes him stress and anxiety. I often tend to exist in a state of chronic injury, or recovery from some recent new injury, or concerned about not aggravating some old injury, and thus tend sometimes to be overly complacent about the discomfort and pain of being injured, or just puzzled about how maddening it can be to have to slow everything to a near halt just to let something heal. Just sit still and wait, right? I forget there are things to do about it. I guess I’m not wholly convinced that it matters to try – which is a problem of a different sort, and I give myself time to think about that, too.

In spite of being injured, my Traveling Partner makes me a cool stand for bananas so they don’t just sit on the counter or go bad in a bowl. It delights me that he thought to do so, and I feel very loved. I pushed myself pretty hard to stay caught up on as much of the routine shit that he’d ordinarily handle to keep things tidy and cared for. It wasn’t a particularly restful or recreational weekend, and I begin the new week pretty fatigued already, but there’s another one coming – it’s just days away. lol

“Giftmas” is almost here! The tree twinkles merrily, but there’s nothing much under it this year. Something for me, something for him, something for us; it’s enough. My Traveling Partner already has his gift(s) which I gave to him early as a combined birthday/Giftmas, and as a result, he’s already made me several things (like that banana stand) that I’m already using. He 3D printed me a very cool model to build over the Giftmas weekend, too. I’m excited about the weekend together, and the holiday, even without a stack of gifts under the tree, and yeah, also knowing that I really haven’t done anything to fill stockings, either. This one is low-key, and planned to be quite, intimate, and chill. More about presence, than presents. I’m okay with that. I feel very loved, and this life we share is a good one.

I’ve almost finished this terrible cup of coffee. The sky is now a sort of bluish-gray, poised between daybreak and sunrise, hinting at a rainy day ahead. My head aches. My arthritis pain is something like a 6 on a 1 through 10 scale. My email inbox is empty, and my calendar is mostly empty. I guess it’s time to begin again…

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, turning 60, War and News of War

Sometimes All You Get Is The Sunrise

December 17, 2023 //
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I’m sitting in my car, waiting for the sunrise to illuminate the trail, preferring not to walk it in the dark. I slept poorly, completely pwnd by my nightmares. My head aches ferociously and I feel as if I am stressed to a breaking point in spite of so recently having a few days away. I find myself on the edge of tears over and over again, and awash in vague feelings of frustration. It’s shitty.

I breathe. Exhale. Regain a sense of calm. Then I lose it again. The experience is very much as if I am completely “disregulated” for some reason. My thoughts come back to this fucking headache. Going on 9 years, in January. No relief. No diagnosis that feels trustworthy or useful. I’m still here, though, that’s something. For now it has to be enough.

The beginning of a sunrise.

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s up early. His injured condition is vexing and worrisome for both of us. Worse for him, obviously, living with it. The visit to the ER earlier this week seemed somewhat reassuring but the feeling hasn’t lasted and he’s struggling more than seems reasonable. No doubt this is weighing more heavily on my heart and mind than I was prepared for.

The sun begins to rise and the horizon is on fire with intense reds and oranges, and a hint of pink. It’s gorgeous. I sit watching it evolve over some minutes, half an eye on the trailhead. Soon the path will be light enough to walk quite safely.

I try to let the sunrise be enough. The tears start falling. I let them. I don’t really know what else to do with tears. Right now is hard. Sometimes that’s how things are. The world seems like a pretty terrible heartless place right now, which adds to the feeling of senselessness, futility, and frustration. Subjectively, I feel very alone and ineffective, powerless to prevent this mortal vessel from breaking down, powerless to help my partner, powerless to help my dearest friend. Powerless to change the world. Mortality comes for us all, and these fucking meat suits are more fragile than they seemed in younger years. Fuck.

I cry awhile, sitting here alone, watching the sun rise. Sometimes a sunrise is all we get. Sometimes it has to be enough. I sigh and wipe the tears off my face before I get out of the car to walk this favorite trail. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, health, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60

All the Feels and a Headache, Too

December 13, 2023 //
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Wow. What a rollercoaster the last couple of days have been. It was lovely getting home to my Traveling Partner – who turned out to be struggling with an injury. Well, shit. I picked up those day-to-day tasks he could not handle, that usually fall to him, as much as I could. (When I woke this morning, I noticed I never unpacked after returning from my trip!)

I’m sipping my coffee thinking about the blur that Monday and Tuesday were, with doctor’s appointments and an ER visit, and waiting around for imaging – all the things. Yesterday, I woke with a splitting headache that was trying its damnedest to shrink my world and render me useless. I did that thing that isn’t healthy at all; I “powered through it”. The end result was that I was pretty cranky all day, generally not very talkative, and not especially emotionally accommodating of my partner’s anxiety and discomfort – although I really really tried. I managed to “be there for him”, but I doubt it was a super uplifting or gentle experience, at all. I did my best – to me it seemed my best was barely adequate, although he expressed his appreciation for my presence and efforts multiple times.

We were both pretty anxious about the whole mess; we rely on each other, perhaps more than either of us really thinks about very often, and this pushed that reliance into the forefront of my consciousness, while also creating a feeling of insecurity and doubt, due to circumstances outside our control. Kind of scary, really.

I sip my coffee grateful that although my Traveling Partner is injured, he’s “okay” for most values of “okay” and will most likely make a good recovery from this injury pretty quickly. That’s a huge relief. I’m grateful beyond words.

For some reason, unexpectedly, two thoughts collide in my head: the nature of attachment and attachment styles, and the 1970s. lol I find myself thinking that if you listen to the music of that era closely, it starts to sound like that the entire decade exists as the definition of unhealthy attachment styles and a certain cynicism about love, generally. It’s not all bad news and insecurity, cynicism and disappointment, though… there were love songs that “rang true” back then (I just didn’t understand them; love was not part of my experience). Funny how much those mean to me now. Like… time traveling back to that younger self and pointing to these moments, and saying “someday you’ll get here”.

Yesterday, more than once I found myself tearing up and feeling a poignant awareness that I would feel lost without my Traveling Partner. Oh, I know, I know. I’d be okay. He’d be okay… but fuck… I love that man and I count on him. He counts on me. We hung out quietly all day yesterday through appointments and doctors and all the crap that goes along with medical care. I tried to work, but eventually had to just yield to my need to be focused on my partner. I’m glad he’ll be okay.

A new day dawns.

…I’m also glad I got over my fucking headache. Fuuuuuck. It was bad. Today it’s just “normal pain” – manageable. I sip my coffee feeling contented and hopeful, and wishing my partner well from the office as I watch the sun rise through the big windows. It’s a new day. Time to begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, breathe, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships
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