Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

I’m already on my second coffee, and will likely have a third. Maybe a fourth. I’m so tired… There’s not enough coffee to resolve this amount of fatigue.

My Traveling Partner woke me during the wee hours. He couldn’t sleep. It was not quite 3 a.m. He was supremely frustrated with being unable to sleep, and trying anything to figure out why he wasn’t sleeping. His injury was making him uncomfortable, too, and he was clearly vexed and feeling that the lack of restful sleep would slow his recovery. Sleep isn’t easy for everyone, and it can be a tough puzzle to “figure out”. I know this first hand, and even in this very moment. Since having been awakened, I wasn’t going to find sleep easily again myself (if at all).

Hoping to minimize any further possible disruptions to my Traveling Partner’s potential to go back to sleep, I went ahead and dressed and went on in to the office. Options. (Flexible hours for the win!) Fuck, I’m so tired, though. I tried unsuccessfully to nap on a couch in the break area… strange space, uncomfortable couch, no CPAP machine, the lights and noise of the city… it wasn’t happening. So. Work, then? Work. And coffee.

…Great commute into the city, though… no traffic at all. LOL

Getting my ass up, dressed, and out of the house when my partner can’t sleep is, as he points out himself, “just a band-aid”, not really a solution. What the hell is the solution to poor quality sleep? The real answer? I don’t know; I still suffer from poor quality sleep on a regular basis – I just don’t happen to deal with snoring as the cause of that experience, nor worry that my snoring is keeping my partner awake, since I started on a CPAP machine. I’m still light and noise sensitive. I still struggle with nightmares. I still sometimes find myself wakeful during the night for no obvious reason. I still need more sleep than I find myself able to get. The only piece of the puzzle I’ve ever truly solved was eliminating my anxiety, frustration, and anger over being unable to sleep. I used to respond to lost sleep with tears and fury. Tossing and turning. Punching pillows. Restlessly banging about my living space frustratedly trying to coax myself into returning to sleep by creating more fatigue, somehow. Enacting peculiar “bed time” rituals like getting a drink of water, then going back to bed. Sometimes something worked, mostly nothing did (or does; if I’m not going to sleep, I’m not going to sleep). The stress over it made it much worse. That I was able to ease, and pretty much resolve completely. Now, when I’m wakeful, I just… am awake. I meditate. Read quietly. Maybe write. Get up and have a quiet cup of chamomile tea, perhaps. It just “doesn’t bother me” the way it used to. This was a choice built on practices, built on acceptance, and built on non-attachment. That much I managed, and it has worked nicely.

…But I don’t think that counts as a solution to poor quality sleep…

…And I really really wish I could truly help my partner resolve his sleep challenges, especially if I am any cause of those! Whether I am or not… I’d just like him to be able to get the sleep he needs to feel well and rested every day!

There are a ton of commonplace recommendations regarding sleep hygiene from any number of foundations, YouTube channels, Dr recommendations, sleep clinics, sleep-oriented businesses, and bloggers… some of them likely work for some people. All of them probably work for someone. (Chances are none of them work for everyone.) I practice many of them routinely and they have become habit for me. It helped. Stressing over the lack of sleep never helped at all, and I suspect did much to make things worse. Learning not to do that was a big deal, and it was my Traveling Partner who pushed me to do so, wisely pointing out that the stress about not sleeping was causing me to lose more sleep.

I don’t have any solutions – but I know how much sleep matters, and I know a lot of us struggle to get the sleep we need. Are you having sleep difficulties? What have you done about it? I’d be interested to know what has worked for you.

Coffee #2 is finished, and just a memory. It’s time to make a third and try to push through the fatigue on caffeine and pure persistence. It’s time to begin again.

I’m tired. The day started poorly, at least initially. (It’s fine now.) My Traveling Partner was worried about me and woke me from what to me felt like a very deep, sound sleep in the midst of detailed dreams. It was rather near my usual wake-up time (about 90 minutes too early) and I could not go back to sleep. I woke feeling groggy, confused, fussy, irritable, and startled. This was less than ideal. I went ahead and got up for the day. I was going to head out immediately so he could just go back to bed himself, although I definitely wasn’t fully alert, yet. He invited me to stay and have coffee together, which sounded pretty good; there would not be any cafe’s open at that hour, and driving into the city without having some coffee sounded pretty crappy. So…

We began again. We enjoyed our morning coffee together and watched a couple videos. It was a pleasant way to start the day. No regrets.

I will say… although I wish no one would ever wake me while I’m sleeping soundly… I sure wouldn’t be the one to insist that someone who is worried about me as I slept take no action to ensure I’m okay. That seems fairly unreasonable, and possibly actually foolish. If my partner woke me at 03:30 in the morning and asked me to wake up just to hang out with him because he was feeling lonely, I totally would. (I mean, keeping it real, I might be a bit annoyed at first. lol) I’d definitely expect him to wake me if the house was on fire or something, too. I just really wanted to sleep (because I already was) and waking up was so hard. I’m not that good at sleeping well, and it’s hard to let sleep go when it does happen. I’m fine, though, for most values of fine. Just… definitely tired.

G’damn I am tired this morning, though. lol Although my Traveling Partner seemed certain I’d “probably gotten enough sleep”, mostly based on when I retired for the evening, I did read for a little while, and I was up once during the night. My tracker suggests I got less than 6 hours. Not ideal, but I’ll get by on that and I should certainly be safe to drive home at the end of the work day… it’s not like losing sleep is so common any more. I’m generally getting enough sleep these days.

…I’m having trouble getting my shit together for the work in front of me…

I yawn and stare into the glow of the monitor vacantly for awhile. So tired. I try to shake it off. I drink more coffee. Even the utterly average office coffee will do the job I need it to do, this morning. I make another cup and make a point of trying to drink it before it gets cold.

I sigh out loud in this quiet room. It’s not yet quite daybreak, but the sky has begun shifting from black to a dark moody blue gray. I guess it’s time to begin again.

Mere hours later, I’m working through tears on a shitty gray rainy day wondering why the fuck I even bother to try. Emotional weather. Stormy. Rainy. Disappointing. Gray. On top of it, my coffee tastes like shit, and it’s hard to see my computer screen through all the fucking tears. Fucking humans, man. The pointless bullshit and struggling and chaos and damage are a big fucking buzzkill.

…None of this changes the meaning or value of the words I wrote earlier this morning, I just “can’t feel it” right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that it’ll pass, through the tears, and in spite of the shitty cup of coffee. What went wrong? Doesn’t matter. Human bullshit, mostly my own. Not all of it, but mostly. Can’t do anything about anyone else’s crap – that’s their own to wade through and deal with. I’ve got mine. More than enough to have to manage. The fucking tears though – I did not need this. Fortunately, most of my meetings are virtual meetings through Zoom or Google, and I can turn my camera off, and did (although usually I don’t, so it still ends up being a potential “tell” of something being amiss).

I try not to over think things. I try to let small shit stay small. I try to let go of my bullshit and baggage. I drink my shitty cup of coffee and reflect on it as a metaphor for this shitty moment.

Next I’ll work on beginning again.

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…

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.