Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching
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Temper, Temper

August 17, 2023 //
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I opened my news feed by mistake, and the headlines… damn. This may not be “about you” or useful at all… it’s just on my mind.

Damn, People. What’s with the anger all the g’damned time?

What’s with behaving as if your anger, all by itself, justifies your shitty behavior, your tantrums, your unreasonable demands and expectations, and your very peculiar air of entitlement that the whole world (or at least some specific fraction of it) make changes to soothe you? I’m just saying… there’s a whole lot of strange bullshit and bad behavior associated with unmanaged anger. It’s… ugly. Domestic violence? Ugly. Child abuse? Ugly. Exes killing exes? Ugly. People screaming at other people who are just doing… people things? Ugly. Late flight tantrums? Ugly. Long line tantrums? Ugly. Parking disputes? Ugly. Bad neighbor bullshit? Ugly. Just fucking stop it – how about that? How about accepting that you’re angry about something, giving yourself a minute to reflect before you “deal with it” (at least as far as discussing it with some other hapless human), and (maybe breathe) then take a wise, measured, well-considered approach to resolving whatever fly is in your ointment today? I mean, for real? Stand down, you hostile belligerent badly behaved seething entitled rage-monkey – no one has time for your bullshit, and um, also? No one deserves to die over it. Anger is just an emotion. Check yourself.

Just saying. Why the fuck are you leading with your anger, or letting your anger call your shots in life? You’re a human being (I mean, most likely, if you’re reading this, you’re a human being). One of the big “features” of being human is the ability to reflect on our experience and manage our emotions. So… maybe do some of that. Like… all the time, please. It’s a practice. We become what we practice. If you practice being an angry reactive shithead, guess what you become? Something to think about. Anger management takes practice. Developing resilience takes practice. Becoming calm and reasonable takes practice. Having perspective takes practice. Making good use of wise perspective once developed takes more practice. Thinking before you speak takes practice.

…No, I’m not saying it’s “easy”, and yes, it does take work. “Practice” is a verb. You’re probably frustrated with this too, finding yourself feeling regretful after saying or doing some terrible thing to (or at) someone you care about. You can change.

I sigh out loud over my coffee. I’m generally in an exceedingly bad mood when I first wake up in the morning. It’s pretty reliably true that I do not want to talk to people before I’m “all the way awake”, which is generally after the first cup of coffee is gone, and the second one started. (This isn’t unique to me, there are a lot of folks who are less than approachable first thing in the morning, my Traveling Partner included.) I don’t always have the luxury of avoiding all human contact in the morning, though, particularly on work days, so I’ve had to learn to manage my temper, my words, my reactions to other people, how I hear things being said to me, and how I respond to both strangers and those close to me, until I have my shit together for the day. It’s been ages since I acted in anger first thing in the morning, or reacted unpleasantly to having to interact with people before I feel ready for all that – I’m proud of that progress, because the basic truth that I’m seriously all thorns and sharp edges first thing in the morning hasn’t changed at all. How I behave has changed a lot. Practice.

Change is within reach. Who do you want to be? What do you need to practice to be that person? Get started making that change – one small detail at a time is enough to get going, and then… just keep practicing. Fail? You will. You totally will. (I know I do.) Begin again. Do your best. Practice more. Practice something new or a bit different. Keep at it. Fail again? Yeah, that’s a thing – incremental change over time takes… time. Keep at it. We become what we practice. Practice being the person you most want to be. Every day. Yes, and after every failure. Reflect on that reflection looking back from your mirror – what does that person do and say at their best, in one situation or another? What could you have done differently to get a better result? Practice that.

But wait… what if you’re “legitimately provoked”, you may ask? You’re not going to like my thinking on this one, perhaps, but… that’s precisely when and why it matters to practice. Provocation is not an excuse for bad behavior in any real way. Just sort of makes it seem explainable in some understandable way that one might behave badly, but it doesn’t make it okay. It doesn’t justify bad acts. It doesn’t justify killing someone. It doesn’t justify saying terrible things. Nothing really does – because we absolutely have it within our power to do better than that, being what we are. Can’t manage to do better on your own? Get help. Do better.

(If that paragraph caused you to go down some extreme-scenario rabbit hole about self-defense or something, just stop it. Take a minute to hear me and think about what I’m actually saying, please.)

I’m sipping my coffee on a quiet Thursday morning. There’s nothing much going on, but I’m in pain and I am in a seriously bad mood – but I’m also enjoying the morning in spite of my emotional weather (because that will pass, and I have choices). I’m enjoying being able to choose to be pleasant and understanding, in spite of feeling cranky and out of sorts. I’m enjoying this good cup of coffee. I’m enjoying the outcome of taking steps to manage my temper this morning; I get to be part of a peaceful household characterized by pleasant conversation and love. Worth the effort.

I woke up ahead of my Traveling Partner. His son was already up. I took time to water the lawn and front garden before the sun heats up the day. When my partner woke, I took my coffee into the studio to “give him time to wake up”. This works for me; I get time to write, he has time to make his coffee and start his day with quiet thoughts. No conflict (real or imagined). No stress. Just a chill morning. He’ll let me know in some sweet way that he’s ready for the day by telling me he misses me, or inviting me to join him watching some short video that made him laugh, or coming in to see what I’m up to. When he does? We begin again. 😀

Practice being the person you most want to be.
(Painting by an unknown artist seen hanging in a local restaurant.)
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Categories anger, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

No Pill, No Perfect

August 3, 2023 //
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Morning. A Thursday. Busy day, based on my calendar details. Hot coffee, black. Peach and orange sunrise streaked with messy clouds. I am groggy.

I woke to lights coming on, right on time. This has been my “alarm clock” for so long now, I actually do think of it as “my alarm”. I hauled myself upright, reluctantly. My sleep is improved now that I’m using a CPAP machine, I’ll go ahead and say that first. So… snoring? Get to a sleep doctor and take care of yourself. That snoring is a bigger deal than just keeping other people awake. 😉 The machine prevents me snoring, but according to my sleep tracker, it’s not doing much good for my quality of sleep, which is still restless, and lacks sufficient deep sleep. I’m getting more sleep – which is a start – but I’m probably still just getting used to sleeping in the mask, and also dealing with the noise of the machine (quiet but distinctive) and the sound of my breathing (different). My dreams are vivid, plentiful, and quickly forgotten. I’m definitely actually sleeping, but not sinking into that cherished deep sleep, and today I’m really feeling that.

…So groggy…

I showered, kissed my Traveling Partner good-morning-and-see-you-later and headed to work.

I’m sipping my coffee, grateful for this hot cup of “we’ll get past this moment and on to the next” that warms my hands and lifts my mood. An early morning walk around the block (required to obtain said coffee) was pleasant, and I enjoyed the sunrise. I’m thinking about life and things I’m happy turned out “badly”… only months ago, I was hoping to get onto Ozembic… already the news that has since surfaced has me feeling quite grateful I didn’t. One major notable significant “don’t miss this detail” truth of our human experience is that there is no “magic pill” or perfect outcome. The shortcuts are rarely actually shortcuts, and often come at an unreasonably high cost. No “happily ever after” – it’s work and effort and results that vary.

I sip my coffee thinking about incremental change over time. So… okay. This mask may not be the ideal CPAP mask for me. Could be. Maybe I could adjust it differently and be more comfortable? Maybe I need to be patient about getting used to it? Maybe some progress and improvement is enough? Hell, this isn’t even my machine… it’s a rental-on-loan while the paperwork and process of getting my own continues to unfold (apparently my apnea is bad enough that no one wanted me to go another night without a machine, due to some actual risk to my health & safety without it, potentially).

So here I am. Another day. Another moment. Another change. Another experience. One foot in front of the other, doing my best day-to-day and hoping that changes in behavior, thinking, and circumstances will add up to improvements over time that I can really enjoy and thrive on. In the meantime, enough has to be enough, and it’s okay to embrace “successful failures” every bit as much as it is to celebrate the joyful moments of delight and success that are more obvious.

…I am already missing my Traveling Partner this morning. Our evening last night was an interesting departure from our usual. Shortly after dinner, completely unexpectedly, we ended up sharing some time with his son (who lives far away, but is visiting later this month). Technology is amazing. Hanging out and talking as a family as if we were all in the same room. “Fun” doesn’t quite describe it; it was “real”, and authentic, and funny at times, and serious other times. At a later point another person joined the conversation (a stranger to me), and the vibe wasn’t the same. Not family. Too much drama. I quickly got bored, and called it a night in favor of quiet time and reading a book. From there my night was the restless unsettled experience I described earlier. I’m not feeling critical or discontented about it; it was an interesting evening of good conversation, generally. I’m okay with that. As for the sleep thing? Well, shit, there’s always been “a sleep thing” for me. Nothing to see there.

…So groggy…

…I’m glad coffee exists…

Right now I’m feeling moody and vexed by existence. Irked by humankind. “Over it” – without knowing what “it” even means to be. I know it’ll pass, at some point.

…I guess I’ve got to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Another Restless Night

July 29, 2023 //
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I slept poorly last night. Restless dreams, wakefulness, and frequently having to get up to pee, along with being in pain, made for a difficult night. My Traveling Partner woke up in a shitty mood, in pain, and cross with me as his default approach. Not my favorite way to start a day. I dressed and headed out as soon as I woke. “Later” will be soon enough to return home, hopefully some time after my partner has had his coffee, done some yoga and stretching, and taken whatever he can to manage his pain and allergies.

I’m sitting on a fence rail next to a marshy expanse of still water favored by all manner of water birds. There is seasonality to the view. I enjoy this quiet place, although on weekends it is often crowded with bird-watchers and camera nerds. It’s a nice place for perspective.

God damn, it would suck if this otherwise beautiful relationship were to fail over our inability to sleep in the same place. I think about that briefly. Tears well up, and I brush them away. We’re not there yet and there are still things to try. My sleep study got moved up from mid-August to… tomorrow. I’m not exactly excited, just hoping something helpful comes of it.

A woman and child walk past me. I hear the child ask “Mommy, why does that lady look sad?”, and the woman’s kind careful reply “Sometimes being a grown up is hard honey. It makes Mommy sad sometimes, too.” For real, Lady, you’re so right. Sorry, Kiddo, it’s not always easy.

I sit quietly awhile. No plan. Just stillness. I check the hours for the pharmacy near home in order to time my return such that I can pick something up for my Traveling Partner. I try to do enough sweet things, kind things, helpful things to offset the unpleasantness of our shared challenges. It’s not “enough”, but it is at least something. I find myself making a silent promise to refrain from talking about my own pain, and fatigue, and stress, and anxiety… Hoping to be more easily able to make room for my partner to feel heard, even if I can’t do much about it. Again, it’s not everything, it’s just something.

… I have to trust that after 13 years together he does understand that I am chronically struggling with pain, myself, and that he has the affection for me and the emotional intelligence to hold space for that awareness day-to-day, in spite of his own pain and fatigue. That’s hard sometimes. It can be a very “fuck your pain, what about mine?!” kind of world sometimes. I think I can do better… But how best to do better without being a dick to myself and undermining my own emotional wellness? It’s a puzzle.

… Sometimes being a grown up is hard, and it makes me sad…

I think about a dear friend tearing up a bit as we discussed age, aging, and the inevitable loneliness of feeling “cast aside”. Fucking hell, that is some real shit. Sometimes being grown up is hard. I watch a small flock of birds take flight, appearing to chase a larger bird. They don’t pay me any attention at all. I’m not part of their experience.

We’re each walking our own path. No map. Sometimes we get lucky on the journey and have some companionship along the way for some distance. It’s not a given that we will, and ultimately we’re in this alone, regardless how or whether we surround ourselves with people or creatures. These are individual journeys. Nonetheless, we’re also all in it together. It’s a puzzle. I remind myself to try to be kind. Always.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being

A Kinder Word

July 28, 2023 //
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Middle of the work day. Coffee long behind me. Stopped for a break to have a bite with my Traveling Partner. We’ve had a difficult couple of days for some reason. It’s probably me, I guess? I’m not sure and I’m not sure it’s helpful to “assign blame” or point fingers at each other, or any particular individual issue. I just want to do better as a partner and as a lover – and as a friend. That’s where we started. That’s what matters most.

So far today I’ve avoided beating myself up over yesterday(s). I like the thought that I’ve treated my partner with similar kindness and gentleness, but I don’t always feel sure of myself on that point. He said some things yesterday that took my breath away with how much it hurt to hear them. I’m not of a mind to make bold promises about changes, I’m just going to seek to do better day to day, and hope that incremental change over time makes a difference. I wish myself luck on that, in a sincere and heartfelt way, and let my thoughts move on.

I read an article that offers some promise of improvement on the strange ticks and habits that are dermatillomania or trichotillomania – as a lifelong “can’t seem to stop” biter-of-nails, and picker-of-cuticles, I’ve been frustrated a long long time that these seem to be “habits” I can’t seem to break. The news article is here. The “habit replacement manual” that supports the practice the article is about is linked with a video, here. Good luck, if you need this I hope it helps. Me, I feel… hopeful. It’s a feeling I really need right now, so that’s a win.

The work day can’t possibly end soon enough, but I feel on edge and stressed out, which isn’t ideal. Is it “all me”? It easily could be, and I try not to resist well-intentioned feedback from people close to me when they express their concern. I look around at the chaos in my studio. My wee library is in a pretty similar state. The house, in general, is quite tidy (after the Herculean effort my Traveling Partner put in just before I went to a work offsite in Palm Springs). I can’t “run from this” – it doesn’t solve anything to do so, it just worsens over time. And it’s funny, the chaos is telling – chaos in my environment nearly always signals some measure of internal chaos. I wouldn’t expect tidying up the external chaos to do anything much about the mess in my head, but… it often helps quite a lot. Like… a lot a lot. So I’m thinking maybe it’s a good weekend to mostly stay home, mostly tidy up, and spend time connecting with my partner. Talking. Touching. Laughing. Not just hanging out watching videos. Definitely not snarling at each other from another room. “Together” – present, and engaged, connected. Hard. We’ve both been irritable, lately, though I don’t think I know nearly enough about why that is (for either of us), and it’s hard to have a gentle conversation about it. Maybe if I can just do better, we can get past this? I say “maybe if I...” rather than “we”, because mine is the behavior I own, control, and make happen with the verbs I’m personally lobbing into the experience we share. The other half of “we” is on his side of every interaction, and I’m confident that he does also want to “do better” – but I can’t force that, control that, dictate that, or own that, so… yeah. I’ll be over here doing my best to do better, myself.

…Don’t wish me “luck”. lol Definitely wish me success – or persistence. I figure I’ll be beginning again quite a lot, and getting a ton of practice at not taking shit personally, letting small shit stay small, assuming positive intent, and being present, open, and kind. I don’t expect it to be “easy”. We’re probably both feeling emotionally hurt by things we’ve said to each other. We could do better. We could be kinder, gentler, and more aware of each other’s fundamental humanity. It’s not easy; we’re also each dealing with our own shit, and probably feeling pretty weighed down by that.

I take a breath and exhale slowly, evenly, and try to remember a time when I wasn’t feeling stressed. Any such recollection, hoping to savor that past moment, and reclaim a sense of it. It’s a useful exercise. Not a cure, but helpful. Hell, I find one such moment pretty quickly, then several more, and so many that are recent, and I start feeling lighter – this is just a moment. Emotional weather. Storms pass. I breathe, exhale, relax, and center myself in the context of a better feeling.

The physical pain I’m in is a bit much. Arthritis in my spine. I lift myself more erect; better posture sometimes means less pain. My neck aches. I do some of the physical therapy “moves” I was taught, sometimes they really help, other times they are at least a brief distraction. I feel the pain that lurks behind my jaw, and below my ear. I contemplate that fucking nodule on my thyroid and wonder if having it removed will help… I am grateful that at least the occipital neuralgia is not also flaring up. Pain makes everything else seem worse, more complicated, more stressful, less easy… I’m annoyed by pain. I look in my wee pillbox with today’s meds in it… have I got any more options? One last dose of an Rx pain reliever. I take it with some reluctance, but hoping for relief. If it helps, it helps. It’s okay to need, and to ask for, and to accept help. Sometimes it’s even necessary.

I take another breath and look at the time. I think I’ll call it a day – and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, turning 60

Yesterday and Today

July 27, 2023 //
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I woke “early” this morning. Not sure what woke me. I had to pee. I got up, dressed, grabbed my gym bag and headed out to the gym. Early. Very early. I think I got there at 04:30…? After the gym, I grabbed coffee on the way to the co-work space. In practical terms, I’m treating it as an ordinary day that got off to an ordinary (if early) start.

Yesterday was surreal. I was so groggy all day. Too-few hours of poor quality interrupted sleep took their toll on me, but the day was generally an easy one. Don’t know how I would have held up under the strain of a busier or more difficult day, and I’m frankly not certain I could have managed it. I stayed focused on work. The drive home… happened? It must have; I got home safely. Traffic was heavy, and I got caught in the worst of the rush-hour commuter traffic, but that may have been a blessing in disguise, since it served to slow things down a bit, and my reaction time was definitely not good. I don’t remember dinner… I don’t think I cooked any. I sit quietly, biting my lip and thinking that over… did we have dinner? What did we have? Fuck… did I just… not?

I recall sitting and watching some videos with my Traveling Partner, quietly, before one of us noticed I was nodding off – it was early, and I was reluctant to call it a night, and I think I mumbled something about probably splitting my sleep. I couldn’t imagine, at the time, crashing at 6:00 p.m. and actually sleeping through the night! Well. That’s pretty much what happened. I laid down around 6:00 p.m., and I woke minutes after 04:00 a.m., without ever waking during the night. Rare for me. (Turned out what probably woke me was a message from my Traveling Partner, frustrated that he was once again not able to sleep because of my snoring; I had failed to turn off my notifications before bed.)

I’m glad I slept. I’m grateful my partner did not wake me during the night. I needed the sleep badly. We both need to be able to sleep. I really hope we get this sleep shit sorted out. It’s not a good situation to be in; degraded sleep exacerbates both physical health issues and mental health. Sane people become mentally ill people in a relatively short amount of time without adequate restful sleep.

…Take out. We had take out for dinner last night. I just remembered. The commute from the city results in my arriving home later than usual, and often without the energy left to cook, and that was definitely the case last night. Also, we were both sort of craving orange chicken, so it all worked out nicely to pick some up on the way home.

My Traveling Partner’s mood becomes irritable and unpleasant when he’s not getting the sleep he needs (probably true of most people). Very human. With that in mind, and because I really want him to be able to get some rest (and also because I honestly don’t like spending time with him when he’s functioning on too little sleep and too much bad mood), I find myself considering a short local camping trip this weekend… I sleep just fine in a tent, on a mat, on the ground, in a sleeping bag, listening to the wind and the birds. He sleeps just fine when I am not at home. It sucks to feel like I have to leave home for my partner to be able to sleep… and I’m sure he feels frustrated and saddened by it, too. Right now, though, I suspect he just wants to sleep. At all. I doubt he’ll object… if I can find something close enough, I could even camp the nights, and relax in his good company during the days…

…This is what loving desperation about a shared challenge looks like… I’d do just about anything to ease his suffering and make it possible for him (and for me) to sleep comfortably.

I hope the fancy sleep doctor can offer a real solution. There are a ton of “fake solutions” out there, and I’ve tried a fair few of those over 38 years of cohabitation with one partner or another. Most of them. Strips, straps, drops, sprays, exercises, sleep positions… They haven’t worked for me. I’ve had difficulties with sleep for so long in my life (since childhood) that I honestly don’t feel particularly hopeful. I just keep trying. I definitely feel the difference when I sleep well vs when I don’t. The snoring is just a small part of that, just happens to be the part that affects my Traveling Partner (or anyone trying to sleep in shared space with me). The rest of it doesn’t affect him at all (and honestly, he’s so frustrated with his own difficulty sleeping due to my snoring that he seems completely unaware that I actually have problems with sleep that go way beyond that). So, I’ve got a sleep study scheduled (in the sleep clinic) a couple weeks away, and although I’m not letting myself build up expectations in my head, it’s at least a step to take.

The work day begins to loom large as the clock ticks onward. I hope my Traveling Partner is sleeping. I scroll through nearby camp sites thinking about the weekend ahead…

Time to begin again, again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer
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