Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching
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Taking Care of the Woman in the Mirror

October 28, 2017 //
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I succeeded in sleeping in this morning, until almost 8:30 am. It mattered less that I also woke basically every two hours during the night, or that I was awake for two hours, sometime around midnight, than that I was able to simply keep sleeping until the thought of being awake no longer seemed like a compromise of my most basic self-care. I was up for a couple of hours. I watched some entertaining videos. I scrolled through Facebook. I showered and handled basic hygiene and self-care tasks (most easily accomplished while I am awake).

I went back to bed, and slept through much of the afternoon, waking more or less around tea time, which is to say, around 3pm. I woke a number of times, but a quick check on my consciousness found me choosing more sleep, each time, until this last time, when I chose, at last, to wake and even to get up. I had to pee. Not getting up wasn’t really an option. I didn’t go back to bed, but mostly only because I didn’t want more sleep any more than I wanted to be awake, and since I was already awake, and up, I simply decided to continue along that path awhile. lol I’m not terrifically engaged with the moment, the fire of my natural presence flickers. Clearly I am ill. So… a fresh cup of hot tea. A new moment. I am on auto-pilot, and only barely truly awake. I am uncertain where the evening may take me.

I am hungry. The amount of work involved in feeding myself doesn’t seem at all appealing. The sorts of foods I could order? Don’t seem at all appealing. So. Here I sit. Hungry and doing nothing whatsoever about it. Thinking about taking action on the food thing, I find myself contemplating going back to bed instead… I would not notice any feelings of hunger if I were asleep… It would be easier.

I sip my tea. It is hot, bland, basically flavorless. I’m sick and nothing tastes good, really. I think about how easily I could heat up some chicken soup, though… Chicken soup, with Rick & Morty… or chicken soup with Archer… or chicken soup with Harry Potter, South Park, or Samurai Champloo… or chicken soup with a favorite book… I chuckle when I realize that I am more interested in the chicken soup itself than any accompanying entertainment. Okay, okay – chicken soup then. No problem. I’ve got plenty made. I find myself feeling somewhat buoyed by the thought of rich hot broth, chunks of chicken meat, veggies stewed in the flavorful broth, buckwheat noodles…

I lift myself from my chair with some awkwardness and stiffness. I barely notice the pain I am in, moment-to-moment, because flu symptoms suck so much, but there it is, when I move. I stand with some difficultly, and wait a few seconds to be sure of my balance, before making my way to the kitchen. Chicken soup won’t heat itself. lol One obvious downside to living alone; I’ve always got to be the one fetching tissues or mugs of tea, or heating up the soup. 🙂

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Categories anhedonia, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

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October 27, 2017 //
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I rarely look forward to another day, and a chance to sleep in, as much as I do waking up to the alarm, groggy and sick on a Friday morning, after a restless interrupted night. All I could think about was “tomorrow I get to sleep in”. Hell, I’m still eagerly assuring myself that tomorrow there will be no alarm clock.

I woke during the night choking on a situation that went well beyond “post nasal drip”, sufficient to wake me in a panic, struggling to breathe. I didn’t even bother attempting to go immediately back to sleep; I’ve been waking up just about the same time each night since Sunday, and most of the week, eventually also getting up, having a cup of chamomile tea, and attempting to meditate, usually unsuccessfully, before returning to bed. I can almost hear the creaking and groaning of routines fracturing like ice on a winter pond under the weight of my experience of being sick. I’ve run out of fucks to give, and basic self-care is just about the best I can do this morning.

…I’ve been managing to keep the dishes caught up, though. 😀

Still sick. Definitely not feeling particularly inspired. Willing to begin again… tomorrow, though, okay? 🙂

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Sick, Tired, Uninspired

October 26, 2017 //
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I’m still sick, and it is sort of pissing me off (along with just feeling poorly). I mean, it isn’t that bad, right? Just bad enough to keep me feeling fairly under-the-weather, fatigued, and out-of-sorts dealing with symptoms. I get over the headache, the sore throat gets worse. The sore throat isn’t so bad? Well, the sinus congestion is worse. Got the sinus congestion mostly managed? No problem, how about we move this crap into my chest and add a cough? I guess I wasn’t surprised by the return of the headache, the swollen glands, or the utter lack of deeply restful sleep, which persists. Who the hell decided we needed to be meat puppets of all things?? Highly inefficient. Prone to illness, and all manner of breakdowns. :-\

I grumble through my shower, yoga, my morning coffee, and even a restless attempt at a morning walk around the block, which got me to the end of the driveway. (I really “needed some air”. The fresh air felt lovely, but I am too sick to take any sort of long walk.) Meditation, like sleep, works out less than ideally well.

On my way in to the office, I’ll stop by the doctor’s office and lab, and have a properly credentialed adult provide an opinion; it’s rare that I’m sick more than a day or two, and this is day 4. I remind myself that it is more than likely what I thought it most likely to be initially, just this year’s newest strain of ick going around. Common enough in my work environment. This being the case does not stop the circumstances from being incredibly annoying; I have weekend plans. 😦 The closer the weekend gets, the less likely it seems that those plans will live to see real life in action. Yes, hell yes, I am disappointed. Sort of. Almost. I’m just sick enough to also mostly not actually care any time I think of sleeping, sleeping in, going back to sleep, napping, resting, lying down… Yeah, I’m totally sick.

I may not write tomorrow. The desire to sleep in today almost got me to reset the alarm for later. Tomorrow I might follow through on that, since I clearly need more sleep right now. I’m too sick to have much to say that has any lasting value, the writing is habitual, and part of “who I am”, I sit down to it each day mostly without even thinking about it, or planning to. It is a commitment. A compulsion? A practice.

Tomorrow, I’ll probably just begin again. 🙂

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Categories anhedonia, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Then There Was This Other Morning

October 25, 2017 //
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My sleep continues to be restless and interrupted by the inconvenience of being ill. It’s not as bad as it was, and my symptoms continue to improve, nonetheless I am sleeping like crap. I woke several times during the night, briefly, and got up once to sip a soothing cup of tea before returning to sleep. I woke to the alarm, which seemed needlessly loud, and a pounding headache, which… hurts. I woke feeling tired. I plod along as the morning continues. I feel uninspired.

It’s definitely obvious that I’m not feeling well, when I look around the house. I experience a moment of real annoyance, which suggests I’m also feeling better for real. My housekeeping definitely suffers when I’m sick. I almost had the energy to do something about the state of things, when I arrived home from work yesterday, but… I’d run out of spoons. I went to bed early, instead of doing any housework at all. The closer the weekend is, the more housework I’ll be cramming into less time, if I want the place to be tidy when I return home Sunday evening… or… I’ll have to allow myself to not do that, like, even at all, which… would be weird.

I sigh quietly looking at my “to do list”. It’s not really all that bad, it’s just… I’m sick and I really only want to go back to bed. lol Living alone does have, as one obvious consequence, the down side that I’ve got to take care of myself, and all of everything else besides, when I am sick. There’s no one else here to “pick up the slack” or take care of the laundry and dishes and whatnot when I’m not up to it. I’m mostly okay with shit just not getting done until I feel exactly enough better that I am once again aware that it matters to me after all… The trick, it seems, is to learn not to over-react and exhaust myself trying to get everything tidied up and put right when I finally do get going on it.

This morning I teeter on the edge of feeling sufficiently ill to just want to go back to bed, generally, and feeling enough better that it really really bothers me that there are dishes in the sink (because I was too dizzy-tired-weak to both empty the dishwasher of clean dishes, and also load it again with dirty ones). I’m seriously aggravated with myself for how untidy the kitchen is. I’m annoyed that the small trash cans placed here and there for convenience are all filled up with used tissues, particularly because it is trash pick up day, and if I hustled I could empty them all and take the trash down the driveway in time to be hauled away. I’m not yet ready to move quite so briskly. Shit.

I start feeling really frustrated with myself, and with being sick. I have shit to do!! The bang when I set my coffee mug down abruptly, more firmly that I realized I would, gets my attention. Oh hey, no kidding, this is really bugging me…

I pause and let myself really breathe for a moment or two. I correct my posture. I put aside writing long enough to allow myself to truly feel heard – by me – on the matter of the housekeeping. I sit with my aggravation for a little while, allowing myself to recognize how frustrating the situation is for me, being too sick to keep up on the housekeeping, because I associate (my) poor housekeeping with (my) symptoms of mental illness. My earliest obvious sign that I am struggling and perhaps disordered in my thinking, is often when my environment is also becoming disordered. I like order. Nothing wrong with that. I breathe, and contemplate my fondness for order. I accept that being sick leaves me with much less energy for physical work, and allow myself to compassionately acknowledge that this is what it is, and is very human. I remind myself there is no one here criticizing me; I am accountable to myself, sure, but also accountable to myself for treating myself well. I breathe, and relax, and find myself feeling more settled and comfortable, although eager to feel well enough to get on with things, which seems a healthier approach to the circumstances.

I add a couple things to my list that I’ll want to catch up on when I am able to do so. I promise myself that I’ll tackle the dishes by emptying the dishwasher this morning, and reloading it tonight after work. I find a couple other gentle compromises that get things done without tiring me. It’s enough.

I begin again…

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Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Um… Ouch?

October 22, 2017 //
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I woke in pain.

Damn it. A sentence that short doesn’t do the moment justice. Rainy, chilly, autumn days, and colder night-time temperatures, and here it is time again for my arthritis pain to become a serious shot-caller in my day-to-day experience. Damn, this sucks. I woke hurting, couldn’t roll over because my spine was locked up, rigid and aching, from my waist to my shoulders. I laid still with the pain for a few moments, taking time to be aware that I was able to breathe “comfortably” – for some values of “comfort” – and confirming fingers and toes move, and that I felt sensations in extremities.

Time for the winter practices, already? Yeah, looks that way. I slowly, with great determination, begin moving the bits and pieces that do seem pretty mobile. I flex fingers, arms, toes, feet, legs. I stretch anything that stretches. I find adequate leverage to roll to my back. I pull my knees to my chest one by one, and begin working on arching my back some small bit. I push-pull-rock and get rolled first to one side, then the other. Repeat all the motions on each side. Eventually, I am able to roll to my right side, push myself up on an elbow, pull myself the rest of the way using the arm on the other side, and a firm grasp on the edge of the pillow top of the mattress. Sitting up! Yes! It feels like triumph.

I sit for a few minutes, ignoring the tears – a combination of pain and relief, that spilled over as I sat up. Mornings like this one, I am “painfully aware” (lol) that one day I won’t be able to easily live alone; I’ll need help with basic things, at some point. Aging is a thing. I am definitely living that process. I sigh, and the sound fills the otherwise quiet room. Maybe a shower will help?

The long minutes lingering in a hot shower leaves my skin reddened in places, but my spine is a bit more flex-y, as a spine ideally would be. I don’t hurt quite so much. I can dress, with care, and anything to do with standing is as easy as ever, and that means – coffee. 🙂 My coffee this morning even turned out wonderfully well, and I am enjoying it with a smile that has no trace of the pain I woke in. Oh, I still hurt; it’s that sort of day. It’s more manageable now, is all, and that is enough.

I sip my coffee and think about the phone call with my Traveling Partner last night, sharing his autumn and winter travel plans with me. I think, now, about how those may/can change my own plans. I smile. The physical distance doesn’t change much for me; we talk regularly, and the specifics of distance are irrelevant in our digital experience. We see each other when circumstances and choices permit it. (Sure, I will miss him; I always miss him when he isn’t near me, but that doesn’t have to mean drama and bullshit. lol) I was planning to discuss my reluctance to plan regular visits down once the roads begin to freeze, or snow becomes a concern (even though I have chains, it’s just not my preference to tackle long drives in icy/snowy conditions); his plans are such that it just won’t actually be a concern. lol Win and good. Convenient. Stress-free mutually beneficial planning for the win! 🙂

First coffee finished, I make a second, and load a great set, from a favorite DJ who does a regular live cast on Facebook, to get me moving, and hopefully provide additional relief of my pain, and a bit more freedom of movement. Movement hurts, but it helps, too. Hard not to dance to great music.

I spend coffee #2 grooving in my chair, writing, and chatting with my Traveling Partner as we get our mornings started. A promising beginning to a leisurely Sunday. I open my “to do list” and frown at tasks I know I am not going to be able to do with any ease, and scroll through prioritizing the tasks that will be more easily handled today. I smile when I get to the line that says “get enough rest” – that’s one I can check off right now. 🙂

No idea what the day holds, but I’m here. You’re here. There’s an entire day ahead to make something of – and that’s enough. 🙂

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, Love, medical marijuana, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter
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