Archives for category: pain

Begin Again… Again.

June 10, 2018 //

I got a few things done yesterday, all of what I stayed home for, a few other things that really needed to get done, then… I stalled.

It’s been a thing most of this calendar year. I “run out of spoons” earlier, or hit some sort of peculiar metaphorical wall, and just… can’t. I’ve mastered “stillness”, but sometimes wonder if I have done so at the expensive of managing adequate effort. There is a balance to strike between understanding what must be done, and doing it, and also properly providing myself adequate self-care. This seems an obvious thing, and perhaps mentioning it is just extra words, but… once fatigue sets in, emotional or physical doesn’t seem to matter much, I lose considerable will and energy with which to continue to do. Inconveniently; I’ve got shit to do. lol

I woke this morning feeling rested, but had deliberately allowed all of the rather more costly pre-prepared coffee products of various sorts to completely run out; I know how to make a great cup of coffee, for fuck’s sake. This lack of effort needs to stop. So… I stopped it. Well, at least with regard to coffee. I had to properly be the adult in the room this morning and… actually make coffee. I fought that process every step with thoughts of grabbing the car keys and heading to a coffee stand, a coffee shop, a breakfast place… I kept the temptation at bay by also considering that I really wanted a good cup of hot coffee in a ceramic mug, fresh, perfectly delicious, not at all instant… no dairy… nothing fancy… just… coffee. Made by me. Without getting dressed. Without driving somewhere. Without spending money. The visualization of the realities of coffee in paper cups, and having to dress, then drive, before being coffee’d up were helpful; I just didn’t really want any part of that. So far so good.

Good coffee. Very satisfying. It’s already gone.

Next up? Everything else. LOL It’s Sunday, and although the housekeeping I’m fussing about is barely two hours of actual work, I’ve been stalling, or being half-assed about it, doing just enough to get by, for… weeks. (Months. It’s been months.) So, today? Today I recommit myself to what matters most to me, without any shame or self-criticism, and take a moment with the woman in the mirror, ensuring I’m not overlooking some urgent bit of self-care that may be standing in my way; averting my awareness from my own needs sometimes results in a peculiar refusal by my entire consciousness to participate in the needful task processing of daily adult life. lol Like having a recalcitrant toddler standing in my way constantly. Those unmet needs don’t yield so easily, and the lack of awareness holds the potential to slowly overcome me entirely with a fog of video-watching and scrolling through feeds numbly. Unhealthy. Unproductive. Empty.

This isn’t a situation that actually requires “troubleshooting”. I do understand what is happening here, and with the spate of recent suicides, I’m not willing to diminish the significance; I’m struggling in the sticky trap of long-term ennui that can develop in the aftermath of extreme or prolonged stress. I’ve got a bit of it culturally, just due to the horror-fest of shock and dismay that American politics and society have become (no kidding, it’s a thing), and then on top of it the regular upheaval week after week in my own community and social network this year… it’s been a lot to take, a lot to manage, and a lot to endure. I’ve done well – but I’m also tired. Rest, alone, is not enough; it has required both a lot of rest, and a lot of advance self-care, and I don’t always manage to make time for both.

Today I feel rested. I have a precise, fairly short task-based list of things that need doing, all very routine, and very familiar. It’s not even a lot of work… I just “don’t fucking feel like it”, and it’s time to get past that, because it simply needs to be done, and I’m the person here who is going to have to do it. lol Sometimes being the adult in the room is some work, and sometimes the work can be deferred, but eventually? It’s got to get done.

I’ve got my list. I’ve got my priorities. I’ve got the day ahead of me. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

Tags again, be here now, be the change, begin again, but you don't look sick, choose wisely, chores, emotional self sufficiency, ennui, experience, fighting the fog, get it done, good self-care, housekeeping, I am my own cartographer, I don't feel like it, I need more spoons, invisible injuries, just do it, make time for it, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, my results vary, OPD, perspective, ptsd, so human, spoons, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the aftermath of stress, The Art of Being, the hidden cost of stress, the map is not the world, the spoon metaphor, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Why?

June 8, 2018 //

Tuesday it was Kate Spade. This morning, I read that Anthony Bourdain has also taken his own life. I pause for a moment to consider the engaging chef whose books and television shows entertained and educated me. I enjoyed his wit. The headline “Anthony Bourdain Has Died” didn’t prepare me for the further information regarding his suicide. There’s a certain different ache in my soul when I read of suicide…

…I know what despair feels like.

Well, shit. It’s a scary, seriously frightening and frustrating world these days. I get feeling overwhelmed by despair. Some days it is hard not to. We will see, for days to come, articles about suicide help lines, and some analyses of what drives people to take their own lives. There will be salacious gossip about the lives of the fallen. Someone will share a recent article about the high rate of senior or veteran suicides. Most of the people who read those will shake their heads, and turn away, unaware someone dear to them is on the brink of making that major “life” decision.

Connect with your loved ones, your friends, associates, and coworkers. Be sure to mention that they matter to you in an authentic way, and be real about it. It’s not about hyperbole and fake compliments, and it isn’t necessary to use superlatives. Easier to straight up give voice to that thing they do that you enjoy, or count on, or appreciate, or wish you did as well – or, fucking hell, just have lunch, or coffee – make time. Be present. Don’t rush those connected social moments; they are what matter most in our days. There’s no knowing when someone may choose to check out, and while you may not be able to change their mind about it, you can, at least, enjoy who they are while they are here.

On the other side of the equation, please consider sticking around awhile? If you’re considering a firm end to the chaos, and stress, and trauma, and struggle, and despair… please, just for a moment, consider that there may be other things you have yet to try. There may be practices that improve your experience, even if they don’t change the entire world, itself. Incremental change takes time – please give yourself some. Someone, I promise you, will miss you if you go.

I stayed. There are a lot of verbs involved, but it has been, very much, worth it to have stayed. I’ll go on with that, with staying around I mean, because things got better. Things continue to get better. I can’t promise that for you, but I can assure you that choosing change results in changes, so long as you do the verbs. 🙂 Your results may (will) vary, and the changes you choose in life may be somewhat askew from the changes you subsequently find unfolding around you, but change is. Despair isn’t particularly sustainable, it’s just annoyingly difficult to see through when we’re feeling it.

There’s one irksome thing about suicide that never fails to leave me feeling bereft and discontent; I don’t know why. No, I mean… I don’t know why. That’s what leaves me feeling so bereft and discontent. I’m not sure there’s any solid “why” to suicide. Surely, people have their reasons. Many leave a note behind, but often those are not public, and even when they are public, they leave so much left unexplained – as if I think there is, or should be, a reasonable explanation when despair overtakes someone. Despair is shitty enough to be its own reason.

One more time, I let the “why?” go, and pause for a moment to say good-bye to a fallen soul. I pause for regret. I pause to appreciate, to mourn, to find personal solace after a time. I pause to be aware I am, myself, okay right now… as though it could creep up on me, and take me by surprise, myself…

…Then I begin again.

Tags ACT, Despair, don't despair, don't go, emotional self sufficiency, get help, good self-care, listening deeply, love, MBSR, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, saying good-bye, someone cares, sufficiency, suicide, taking care of me, talk about it, TBI, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, grief, loneliness, Love, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

Now Is Not The Time

May 25, 2018 //

Here’s a Memorial Day weekend reminder that now is not the time to be thanking veteran’s for their service. This is an opportunity, for all of us, veteran’s too, to honor the fallen. The brothers and sisters in arms who did not come home. Who gave everything. This is our time to bow our heads and reflect on the horror of war. Just saying. It’s not about the living.

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This matters to me. It probably matters to a lot of veterans. We know the price paid to serve, sure; we also know the price that was not exacted from us. We came home with our lives ahead of us. We may be human wreckage – that’s a thing for some – we may be filled with internal torment you just don’t see – also a thing, some of us struggle with for many years – and for many of us, part of that lasting pain is the loss of so many. We lost people we loved, and served with side-by-side, and we lost esteemed professional colleagues, and we lost legends that had gone before us. We lost role models, and wing men. We lost “that guy”. We lost people we never met, and people we knew very well. We lost leaders, and comrades.

Most of us, most of the time, believed we were fighting for a righteous cause. We’re carefully indoctrinated to think so. Some of us knew better or understood things differently. A small few of us knew a very special painful truth; you don’t understand the price we pay, and you don’t understand how carefully we are remade to serve a purpose. You don’t understand, really, that we always knew some of us would never come home. You don’t understand that we served every day knowing that that someone could be… us. You don’t understand that many of us never quite leave it behind. Because you can’t. It’s not your experience.

Please don’t burden veteran’s with your thanks today. This is our day to remember. To grieve. To acknowledge that we came home. To regret that others didn’t. This, too, is our day to stare fiercely into the eyes of those in power with a challenge – you show me this was in fact worth the price. Prove it. Prove it or go fuck yourself – and bring our brothers and sisters home. This is our honor, this is our Memorial. I’d frankly very much like to stop adding new bodies to the body count. I say the price for your glory is too high.

I’m taking the weekend off. This is a time to reflect on what matters most, and what is the value of a human life. ❤

Tags don't thank me I lived, I'll be home for Christmas, Memorial Day, now is not the time, reflect on those who never came home, reflect on war, this is not Veteran's Day

Categories Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, War and News of War

Today, Don’t Be Evil

May 22, 2018 //

Seriously. Today, don’t be evil. How hard can that actually be? I know, I know, you want what you want, you feel right about what you’re right about, and you earnestly want your due – and some damned recognition for your efforts, or your good qualities, or… Is that not it? You aren’t driven by your ego, and a need to have that ego fed? What is it, then? What are you angry enough about to treat that other human being so badly? I mean, seriously… today? Don’t be evil. Avoid explicit deliberate rudeness and inconsiderate behavior. Yep. Those things are petty, I get it, but still… evil.

Maybe don’t be mean, too. Or cruel. Or callous. Or harsh with your words in the moment. Crap, this list is getting long…

Don’t be hostile with people – you may not fully understand what they are going through. Oh. They don’t know what you’re going through, either? Well, sure, I get that… So… You tell, them, right? And get the help you need? Those seem like practical steps. Evil is impractical.

Life and love and community really don’t have to be a zero sum game, you know? Sure, I get that globally there are finite total resources of any given type, but… it seems fairly obvious there’s actually enough to “go around”, if we focus on, say, sufficiency… instead of hoarding. We’re not limited to primitive thinking, these days. We don’t have to yield to an urge to gather and store vast supplies of [ _____ ] to keep all to ourselves. Hoarding vast reserves of … whatever, doesn’t make you look “rich” (well, maybe it does but), it does make you look greedy. Greed is ugly. It’s also evil. Don’t be evil.

While we’re talking about “resources”, let’s spell this out for the folks in the back; sex isn’t one of those. Say it again with me slowly, sex, the physical act of intimate communion, isn’t a resource to be parceled out “fairly” – and no one owes you any. At all. Doesn’t matter how cute/hot you are. Doesn’t matter how physically perfect or emotionally supportive you are. Doesn’t matter if you are a “nice guy” either. There is no debt or obligation that requires anyone to have sex with anyone else. Period. Done. Why are we still talking about this? Because women are still getting injured and even killed because of some dumb ass and his hurt feelings about “not getting any”. Women are people. Actual human beings with their own agency and decision-making. Sex is delicious and fun and exciting and nurturing – and no one owes you any. Sex is something people may or may not choose to do, at all, with anyone, and hey – if they choose to have a lot of it often, and none with you, still totally acceptable. Stop hurting people cuz your mad, bruh; it’s dumb. Embarrassingly stupid. You totally will not get laid after that kind of stupid shit. Ever. Besides, trying to force others around you to bend to your will with actual force? Seriously? What kind of evil bullshit is that? (It is the very most evil kind of evil, actually, just saying; from the boardroom to the bedroom, that’s evil.) Don’t be evil.

For what it’s worth, it took me a really long time to “get it”, myself, on that sex thing. I could not fathom how it wasn’t at some point “my turn” to finally get all the sex I wanted. I mean… hell, it sure seemed like anyone who wanted any could take it from me. When would it be “my turn”? This is the sort of twisted up stupid shit that develops in people’s heads when you rob them of agency; they don’t understand agency. Or consent. Or boundaries. Please definitely respect the agency of your children. Teach them consent – and respect it when not offered to you as a parent, for fuck’s sake. Teach them to set and manage expectations, and boundaries, and to respect their own – and then also respect those boundaries yourself. Yeah, I know, they’re kids. You’re a parent. You own their world, right? No, hell no you don’t – and you know you don’t. Don’t be a petty dictator in your own family. Don’t be evil.

Evil comes in a lot of shapes and sizes. Sometimes, possibly, in your actual shape and size. Don’t be evil. Check in with the person in the mirror once in a while. Are you actually the person you most want to be? Are you rationalizing shitty behavior and trying to “win” on terms that more reasonably could be call “cheating” than “playing the game”? Are you mistreating people, and seeking to justify it “because…”? Are you drawing a line through humanity and putting the “animals” on one side, while you quite conveniently and smugly stand on the other? Have you confused wealth and profit with being a decent human being? All that shit’s pretty evil. Petty bullshit? Petty evil. Still evil. Do better. Don’t be evil.

Just try it out today – use a detestable public figure as your ruler, and do better than that. It won’t be difficult at all. Tomorrow, make your goal someone who is a better human being than that. Eventually, over time, possibly, you may find that the person you measure yourself against each day, the person you wish to use as an example to build a better you, will be the you of yesterday. 🙂 Of course, you could start there – but you probably don’t notice those moments of petty evil and tiresome bullshit, or you’ve grown to believe your excuses. So… calibrate the good within you, on your own terms, and today don’t be evil.

Yes, you are. Sometimes. You totally are. Maybe only once in a great while. If you are human, reading this, in the world of 2018, you’re probably evil – at least some tiny little bit. It’s in the compromises you make. The rules you don’t apply to you. The moments of taking an advantage for yourself at the specific expense of others. The moments when you stand silent while someone else gets hurt. The choice to turn your back on another human being. The choice to make your experience a zero sum game. We all do it. That thing you personally feel just a tiny bit smug about – examine that more closely. Is it also an opportunity to look down on someone else? Yeah. There it is. 😉

We become what we practice. Don’t be evil.

Do better. Today, you can begin again. ❤

Tags are you going my way?, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, Don't be evil, emotional self sufficiency, experience, I am my own cartographer, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, relationships, sufficiency, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories anger, Anxiety, Free Will, Frustration, loneliness, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Foe, Faux, or Windmill?

May 19, 2018 //

My gear is packed. I’m rested. The work week is behind me. The weekend is ahead. My anxiety is through the fucking roof, in spite of there being “nothing wrong” in any literal sense; I am facing my inner demons, today, or at least one small cohort of the mocking hateful little bastards, and I am hoping to come through, if not “victorious”, then at least fairly cognizant just how okay I actually am. That’d actually be a pretty spectacularly big deal.

I survived family violence in my childhood home. I survived domestic violence. I survived the Army, and yes, I survived war. I have, actually, survived all of what life has thrown at me so far – even the good stuff. 🙂 What has lingered are the scars, emotional and physical. The learned limitations. The fears. The background stress of my injured brain insisting something is imminently going to go very very wrong. Scary dangerous wrong. Look out for that hazard right there!! Only… generally? No hazard. PTSD instead.

When things went sideways with my Traveling Partner’s other partner (in poly vernacular, my “metamour”), becoming a mental health crisis of epic proportions, affecting an entire fairly closely associated community, it was also a re-traumatizing event for me. The aftermath was even directly emotionally abusive, specifically targeted to be so, hurtfulness set on “stun”, although the weaponized words and emotions were being launched by a human being fairly obviously not in her right mind at the time, I am human, and I feel. All the feelings. I’ve got my own baggage to carry. Afterward, the easy solution for me has been to just “let all that shit go” and walk on. I do not need (or want) that kind of bullshit in my life, and I have learned to turn away from it.

Not all of life’s decisions are mine to make. Funny how that works. I get to make mine, and I have learned to respect, value, and insist upon my agency. It’s precious to me. On the other hand, I’m not strolling through life utterly alone, here; other people have their lives, too, and their own decisions to make, and they so do make them. I live with those decisions, as well as my own, because we’re all in this together. lol One such decision is to have a birthday party at the very location where “all the bad shit went down”, some weeks after the fact, and almost-but-not-quite as if nothing untoward or unpleasant had even been a thing. Weird. I have trouble wrapping my head around that. Inviting me into that environment seems a tad disrespectful, or even callous, although more likely it is merely ignorant of the potential impact to me, or even more likely still, I am highly regarded, desired good company – which may matter more to all of the non-me people involved. lol I got invited. …And… I’m an adult, right? My friends are adults, too. We are each having our own experience. Mine says ‘do not walk, run, get as fucking far away from that shit, as far as possible, because you do not want to be there when that mad bitch burns her fucking house down’… but… really? Well. I don’t know, do I? Mental health challenges being what they are, and love being what it is, people do make a fairly wide range of choices when loved ones lose their shit in one flavor of mental health crisis or another. People don’t always turn entirely away. I still don’t get it, myself, at this point in life; I’ve stopped taking abuse. Protestations of love are not enough to keep me in an abusive relationship. That’s non-negotiable…but…

…What’s a “safe distance”? In this instance, specifically, when there is no clear certain threat to me personally of any notable sort, what then? So… I’m doing something occasionally suggested in therapy, and utterly resisted by me. Exposure. Facing my fears, in real life. Making the choice to visit friends, and have a good time, in a physical location that causes me a fuck ton of anxiety and stress… for no obvious reason in this moment (the stress I mean; hanging out with friends does not need reasons, and every moment is a good one for hanging out with friends). This could be a very healing thing for me. It’s fucking hard as hell, though, and I find myself dithering a bit as I prepare to leave for the weekend away. It’s just an overnight, down and back, and a chance to look over some real estate on the way back. This? This is an experience to have.

There are verbs involved. Self-soothing. Taking time out to regain perspective. Practices to practice. This? It’s a test. 🙂 I’m content if I get a “C”… I would like to pass it, though. lol I take a deep breath and relax. I’m aware of the physical pain I am in – and the potential that some measure of that pain is directly related to my emotional well-being in some way. Another breath. I let my shoulders slide back down where they belong. I am okay, right now. The road beyond the driveway is quiet. It’s a good time to get started on this journey.

I am my own cartographer. My choices are my own. I walk my own hard mile. My results may vary; and I have choices. I become what I practice. The woman in the mirror smiles back at me. We’re in this together.

It’s time to begin again.

Tags a fast effective treatment for OPD, ACT, be here now, be love, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, go crazy somewhere else, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, love and lovers, MBSR, meditation, mindfulness matters, not my circus not my monkey, OPD, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?, you have no power over me

Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Begin Again… Again.

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Why?

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Now Is Not The Time

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Today, Don’t Be Evil

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Foe, Faux, or Windmill?

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