Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

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.

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.

Between the greater than usual quantity of coffee I consumed yesterday, and the lateness of the hour when I took my last dose of pain medication, I knew there was a chance I’d spend a sleepless night – or at least find it a challenge to fall asleep. True, for what it was, but more likely that the storm that rolled in gets the larger share of the credit. The blustery storm winds howled outside the windows, slamming the raindrops against the balcony door and rocking the building, making it creak and give loud testimony to its age and reluctance to face another storm. I read awhile. Sleep did not come. I thought, for a moment, that I was about to drift off, but merely making the gentle observation was enough to thoroughly rouse me. I am not asleep.

It’s hours now since I wished my Traveling Partner a good night, doused the lights, and stretched out to slumber. No slumbering here. lol Eventually, I turned on one soft light and got up. There wasn’t much else to do… I started packing. Oh, there’s stuff I need out for the morning, but there was no reason not to yield to the moment and make use of it. So I picked out what I’d wear. Looked over the toiletries spread over the counter chaotically, and tossed what I would not expect to need back into my toiletry bag. One less thing to do in the morning. I gathered my camera gear, setting it aside to take to the car (in the morning – no way I’m going out in this storm!). I consider packing my pillow and the soft blanket I brought for comfort… but I would like to get some sleep, so I reconsider and leave them on the bed. I pack up my work laptop and peripherals, leaving out my own laptop for a bit of writing in the early morning – as eager as I am to be home, I also want to give my Traveling Partner whatever chance he may have to sleep in, too, and hope to arrive after he wakes, and is maybe enjoying his first coffee. I put away my sketch book. My pencils. I put away the book I finished, the book I started, and the other one I’d been reading and didn’t read on this trip at all; they all go into the suitcase. As the bags get packed, they go over by the door, out of the way, ready. I work with care, and without any pressure – it’s the wee hours of the morning, and there is no rush.

The storm continues to howl and blow, outside. I stepped out briefly, onto the balcony. The shallows of the bay, along the beach at the foot of the hotel, are being whipped into white-crested waves that slap the rip-rap retaining wall. They come fast, close together. The wind is blowing furiously. I watch a chair on a neighboring balcony skid from one side to the other in the wind. The drenching rain is driven almost sideways in the wind’s fury. The balcony almost seems to lift in the wind. It offers no cover from the driving rain. The building seems to rock. Yeah… I’m not sleeping. LOL I go back inside, and feel vaguely relieved when I close the balcony door and the wind is somewhat quieted. I am grateful for the safety and warmth of this room, as the storm rages on outside.

…I could immediately return home, leave this storm behind… but I’ve got to admit, I’d rather stay warm and safe in this room, listening to the storm doing its thing through the night, rather than make the drive home in it in the darkness and in the intense rain. It’ll likely play out by daybreak (I tell myself), or at least be somewhat reduced in intensity, and the drive will definitely be less stressful in the light of day on winding mountain roads. The choice is made. I just wish I were sleeping through it. lol

…………………………………………………………….

I laid back down to rest, hoping for sleep. I guess I got enough of both to make through a new day. I woke well before dawn, no hint of light yet in the sky. The winds are still blowing fiercely, rain still hammering at the windows. I make coffee. The weather app on my phone assures me there is a 100% chance of the rain continuing for the remainder of the day and into tomorrow, in this location. Sunrise won’t be until 07:43, apparently, but I know I can count on daybreak arriving sooner, and I’ll likely leave around that time… (I think to check my communications with my Traveling Partner over the past couple days to see about when he’s been waking, and it looks like a good plan.) I sip my coffee contentedly. In spite of the lack of sleep last night, I feel rested – and I can grab a nap later on at home, if I want to. 😀

So much rain.

It’s a stormy seaside Sunday and there are no cars at all on the highway, beyond the bay. The rain continues to drench everything. I certainly can’t step out onto the balcony with a camera in this shit. lol I reflect on my days away. It’s been nice. A couple of work days, a day for me… it’s been a good visit with a couple pleasant beach walks and a lot of pictures. I’m not at all reluctant to end this adventure and head home…but…I’m also not eager to drive in this rain. Waiting for a bit of day light makes sense to me. I douse the lights in the room, and sit awhile listening to the wind and the rain and feeling quite grateful to be living my mortal life in this here-and-now. Certainly humans in the distant past lacked the luxuries and comfort and convenient shelter from a storm that I am fortunate to enjoy. No doubt there are humans in other places, even now, who lack some of these “basics” I likely take for granted far too often. I breathe, exhale, and listen to the rain fall. I sip my coffee, hot, and convenient, with appreciation. It’s not the best coffee I’ve ever had, but giving the matter some thought, it’s pretty fucking amazing to have coffee to drink at all.

Gratitude is a reliably pleasant way to begin a day. I sit here awhile feeling grateful for so many things, and eager to return home – just needs a bit more daylight, and then I can begin again. 😀

I’m in a pleasant place, at the end of a pleasant day. It’s been a lovely break from the routine, and I’ve enjoyed it. Doesn’t do anything to improve the pain I’m in, that’s just real, and as much as possible I’m past letting it call my shots in life(except when it just does) – but it doesn’t mean I’m not in pain. Here’s the thing, though… we’re each having our own experience, and pain (or suffering) is part of the human condition. (Wait around long enough, you’ll get yours.) (And, I’m sorry in advance, cuz it’s definitely going to be a thing, if it isn’t already.)

I’m in pain. My Traveling Partner is also in pain. We have different pain, and different reasons why. We both hurt, and it can be super annoying. Pain tends to shrink one’s world down to just the pain we experience, ourself. It’s very human to filter someone’s shared experience through the lens of our own lived experience – without any reason to assume that these might be at all similar (they’re often not sufficiently similar to justify that approach). It makes for shitty listeners and a poor experience when seeking support. 😦 I remind myself to do better.

I’m sure we’ve both done all the things we know to do when we’re in pain. Doesn’t really do more than maybe improve things a bit. Doesn’t treat the underlying condition or cause. Doesn’t result in a uniformly pleasant experience from that point. Doesn’t make communicating about it any easier. Neither does being apart. Quite the contrary, being apart when we want support from our partner is extra frustrating. Not ideal for communication – or pain management. Stress amplifies pain. Pain causes stress.

Human primates being human primates, we tend to make some pretty stupid assumptions (and then act upon those instead of something we can confirm is truly the case) when we’re stressed, frustrated, hurt, or hurting. It’s no wonder I like the occasional getaway all alone; human primates vex me. (All of them, pretty reliably, at some point.) I’m not any better, being that I’m also a human primate. This evening I am, in fact, vexed with myself and my ongoing very human communication challenges. It sucks and I’m cross about it. How the fuck do I so reliably say things that I think demonstrate how much I care, only to have the person I’m speaking to behave as though I’ve been ignorant, insensitive, or just somehow wrong? Super annoying. I’d definitely like to do better.

I’d like to do more to “be there” for my Traveling Partner. I failed pretty seriously, and I think all I was really being asked to do was listen for awhile. That should be easier. (I definitely need more practice.) Over text, my communication challenges are complicated by how much slower I type out a text than my partner does. (I also tend to do several edits or rewrites of a response, and often still working on that, seeking to be careful with my words, considerate, wise… and then his messages start stacking up, and I’m not yet done with the first reply. Awkward. By the time I hit send, what I’ve said no longer makes sense. It’s problematic, and I definitely think conversations that require care and consideration do best irl rather than as text messages. Just my opinion, my experience. I want to help support him, and help him get the support he needs (or treatment) to be really well through and through. I also want that for myself, but don’t know how to get it. It’s hard, sometimes.

…Some things don’t have a tidy diagnosis with a conveniently positive resolution…

Now I’m distracted and annoyed by this situation, and struggling to focus on my book at all. I breathe, exhale, relax, check my meds – yep. Time for the next round. I sigh out loud. A few minutes ago my partner was telling me how much he misses me. I wonder if that’s still true right now? I hope we both sleep well and get good rest, and wake up in less pain. That’d be nice for both of us.

It’s evening. Already time to begin again.

…………..

I rarely “follow-up later”. This is me doing that. Hours later. I’m still in pain. He’s still in pain. We’re still apart from each other, and it’s… night. I miss him. He misses me. A few terse words and a bit of misunderstanding don’t change that (even when it may feel, momentarily, that it might). A quick reset – a chance to “begin again” – isn’t just a phrase. It’s a practice. I took some time, got past my bullshit. Distracted myself in a healthy way to avoid ruminating over bullshit. I “broke the spiral”, and got my evening back on track.

I’m tired, but not yet sleepy. I finished one book, and took time to sit with that world and its adventures, for a little while. I’d go to sleep, but I’ve had an “unfortunate amount” of coffee (4 cups? Maybe 5?) – and yes, it likely affects my ability to fall asleep quickly at my usual somewhat early hour. All good. I’ll rest, anyway. Maybe start the next book…? Then finally, get some sleep.

I’m eager to return home. Another opportunity to begin again. 😀

This morning I “hate humanity”. I mean… it’s not even humanity’s fault, this morning. I have a headache. Base of the skull, at the back, just where my neck connects. Does it feel like a tension headache? No. Doesn’t feel muscular at all, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. I don’t know. I know I have a headache, and it is pretty fucking terrible. My Traveling Partner suggests drinking more water. Yep. On it, already. Makes sense. Maybe it will help. I’m just saying; I have this headache and it colors my entire experience of life and my perspective on humanity and the world, generally.

I’m making a point of mentioning this for a reason; you wouldn’t know if I didn’t if I didn’t tell you, but you’d likely still experience something or other unpleasant if you had to interact with me right now, and you’d potentially not know why things went the way they did, due to that lack of information. You don’t know what you don’t know, and nearly everyone is going through something, quite silently and alone with their shit. That missing context matters. Be patient with people. Be kind. Be sympathetic and empathetic and compassionate. Be aware.

…And also… take care of yourself and use your words. No one is going to read your mind.

Fucking hell, this headache, though… right now I don’t care that it is the start of the holiday season, or… mostly anything. I’m just cross and headache-y.

…I’d very much like to begin again, please…