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Black Coffee & A Backache

April 25, 2014 //
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I woke at 1:37 am to a loud bang. I returned to sleep. I woke again at 4:21 am for no reason that was obvious, and went back to sleep again. When I woke to the alarm, it was a bit as if I was never sleeping. My brain seemed pretty busy from about 1:37 am on until the morning alarm. Mostly playing mc chris’ “Tarantino” on repeat in the background of my consciousness. What’s that about? My back aches with the ‘everyday pain’ of arthritis. Yoga is difficult this morning. Sitting with good posture is difficult.

My coffee is neither creamy nor sweet.

This morning these are simply my experience, my observations. I feel pretty positive and basically ‘okay’ as an emotional being. It’s a nice change from Wednesday.

Wednesday, a bit like this.

Wednesday, a bit like this.

Yesterday wasn’t bad at all. It started well, ended comfortably, and aside from a distinct lack of physical comfort in my experience, the day proceeded well between the beginning and end.  Yesterday’s high points? Love, and roses.

"Baby Love" rose [Scrivens, 1992] first to bloom in my garden this year.

“Baby Love” rose [Scrivens, 1992] first to bloom in my garden this year.

My very human experience has its ups and downs. This morning is still so new there’s no knowing. I meditate, sip coffee, study, do yoga, and prepare to face the world. I feel, for the moment, content and complete, in spite of my arthritis, in spite of pain, in spite of the headache, the bitterness of my coffee, or the slightly sick feeling of mornings. A little later than now, I’ll leave for work, probably have to remind myself to grab my cane before I go; it is an encumbrance as much as a help, and like I child I tend to abandon it anywhere I happen to sit down, if I happen to stand up with ease when I return to movement. lol

In spite of pain, and the unsteadiness of my knees lately, I still walk as much as I can. I’m still getting in about 5 miles a day, about 3 of that is commute, spread out over the morning and evening, and 2 miles for a walk midday. If I ‘give my knees a rest’ and allow myself to succumb to the illusion that not using them will somehow put things right, I put myself at risk of gaining weight, pretty much immediately. I keep walking every day I can put weight on my knees and ankles at all. (I’m heavier than I’d like to be, and very much aware of the toll that is taking on my knees and ankles. Stabilizing my weight below 200 lbs is within reach, and I’ll be very happy to hit that benchmark.)

Still, the pain is what it is, and it is part of my experience. As much as I look forward to the beauty of spring, and a lovely walk on a nice day, there’s a bit of a ‘Little Mermaid” element to it; every step may be painful. Growth has often felt that way to me; every step painful, journey and destination worth the difficulty.

Pain is a shared experience. Most people have some. It’s odd to be in a group of people and observe that one person commenting on their experience of pain or discomfort tends to launch a round of compare/contrast statements, with some one-up-man-ship thrown in for flavor. I try to stay out of those, and regret it when I launch one. Few things result in feeling less heard about hurting than everyone else chiming in about how much they also hurt. Everyone wants to feel heard about pain.  I’m not sure anyone ever does.  Our own pain is so visceral. The pain of others tends to be far less so.  I have been working on compassion first, sympathy, understanding – hearing that this human being speaking to me is hurting, and recognizing their experience, without sharing mine, even out of sympathy. (Allowing them to have their experience, feel nurtured and supported, and not diminished by my experience, or denied the opportunity to be individual. ) I don’t know that it does or does not ‘work’ any better than countering every tale of discomfort with one of my own, but it seems likely to be less annoying or dismissive.

It’s Friday. Looks like a quiet solo evening on the calendar. I find myself hesitant to be at all excited about it. I’d rather not become invested in the outcome and have to deal with disappointment if life throws some changes in the mix. I’m eager to spend some time on my writing and dive deeply into meditation without a timer, clock, or deadline on the other side.  It’d be nice to look forward to doing that pain-free, but that’s unrealistic these days, so I don’t bother about the pain until it speaks up with enough force to be a real game-changer.

Friday. Black coffee. A backache. Spring flowers. A quiet morning. This is not only ‘not bad’ – it’s actually pretty good.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Spring, Words

Having Some Technical Difficulties

April 23, 2014 //
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Lately, my knees are making it hard to walk comfortably. I’m not sure what that’s about, certainly it could be any one of a number of things, including ‘aging’.  I’ve also been having more difficulties with spelling than I used to, and dropping words when I write, using opposites when I speak, and generally struggling to communicate simply.  More effort has been required for the same result. This frustrates and worries me. The worry shows up in other places; my manicure is not so well maintained, and I sometimes catch myself rubbing my hands, although they don’t hurt.

This is a very human experience.

Easter came and went. Earth day, too, has come and gone. Spring is quickly heading for summer, although the weather here is quite cool and rainy and not giving away much in the way of intention to progress toward summer.

Pure loveliness.

Pure loveliness.

This morning I don’t have much to say about everyday drama, or work, or growth. I’m a little too sensitive to the aging thing this morning. I am in a little too much pain to be concerned with the puzzles of being and becoming. I’m not sleeping well, although I am sleeping enough to be reasonably rested it doesn’t give my mind the downtime it needs. My dreams are filled with ancient hurts being enacted in newer symbols and a cast of characters from my present, making my waking life seem subtly colored by hidden stress, and secret pain.

I’m prone to tears. Hormones? Unresolved anger? Failure to take care of me by being willing to prioritize my needs high on my own to do list? Arthritis? Menopause? Failure to nurture my relationships well? Headaches? I don’t know. Perhaps any or all of that in some combination? I feel tired when I think about it. I can quickly go from tired to angry. I am easily provoked.  Where the hell do all these tears come from? Why am I crying so much?

Is there a storm on the horizon?

Is there a storm on the horizon?

Mindfulness still matters, still eases my suffering, still settles and calms me. Meditation still helps me find balance, relax, breathe, and give myself compassion. I’m still ‘taking care of me’ and working with my physician on matters of my health, with my therapist on matters of my mind, and with my loves on matters of the heart. Progress. Growth. Wellness.

Sometimes I feel very much like something inside me has to work very hard to keep something else inside me from just giving up. I feel sad to see those words as my fingers skip across the keys. Tears fall. Some days are more work than others.

Today is a good day to see beauty. Today is a good day to recognize the kindness in a smile. Today is a good day for strong coffee. Today is a good day to choose well, and to love wholeheartedly. Today I still have the opportunity to choose to change the world…

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, Turning 50, women, Words

Sometimes More Than Others

April 18, 2014 //
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Yesterday was a weird hodge-podge of ups and downs, and challenges and small victories. My physician recommended some changes in my health medication; changes in medication are always complicated and a bit agonizing for me. It’s that the changes themselves are difficult to adjust to. I sure never really contemplated the psychological/emotional effects of everyday health medications – even the OTC stuff often has effects that just aren’t detailed in the literature in any efficient way. So… some emotional ups and downs, and a fairly chronic feeling that ‘something’s off’, on top of headaches, panic attacks, blue moments of nearly suicidal intensity, negative ideations with such power I find it hard to be at all certain my life has meaning or value, or that I have any real worth as a being. It’s pretty horrible.

I will be okay, though – I’m a few days into now, and it’s getting better. I’ve learned more about accepting that some of my experience may not be tied to the part of reality I expect it to be – like the blue moods being part of the medication change, rather than part of anything truly emotional going on.

I haven’t named names – what is this mystery chemical, so readily available, so problematic? Well, see, here’s the thing – you are a different human being. Your issues are not mine, and vice versa. Could be one or another OTC drug does sit well with you – maybe you prefer Tylenol to Ibuprofen, for instance, but ‘don’t really know why’ – could be a preference, marketing, bias, or it could be that you feel differently on one over the other. Most people feel safe enough that the OTC drugs available to them are ‘safe enough’. 🙂  Why rock that boat? I’m not a doctor. I’m just saying, my own experience personally, is that some of the OTC drugs commonly available don’t treat me well – and worse to go off of, than to take.

Anyway… today does feel better. I feel better. 🙂 It isn’t always sunny days on this journey; it is, however, Friday. Maybe I’ll sleep in tomorrow?

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, grief, Healthy Living, Menopause, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, Words

It Isn’t All Ups and Downs

April 16, 2014 //
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A lot of my studying, my focus, my journey is about a search for balance, contentment, perspective, and sufficiency; somehow that’s ‘all one thing’ in my head, but I don’t know one word for that thing.  We’ll get by with a few more words, that generally works well enough for me. lol

It’s been a strange few days. Even though I’m over whatever odd sickness struck me down last week, I feel somehow a bit ‘off’. Still tired. I hurt more than usual, but that could be nothing more than setting myself up for failure on the expectation that warmer weather would be equal to a reduction in my arthritis pain, simply because in years past that has been true; I know I hurt more than I expect to. I’m cross with the world, but can’t put my finger on any reason I ‘should’ be… I feel vaguely ’emotionally disoriented’ and ‘cognitively disheveled’.  Still, I’m getting by.

This morning was hard. I woke to the morning, eyes gritty, mouth dry, a lingering feeling of panic from a bad nightmare. A shower didn’t refresh me. Instead of finding joy and delight in a partner being up so early to share coffee and companionship before work, I felt distressed, crowded, angry – none of it felt ‘appropriate’ to my experience-in-the-moment, at all. It felt inexplicable. I managed to salvage enough mindfulness and perspective to communicate my challenges, and take the space and time I needed to get my head right… just about when I was feeling still and calm and as I rose, ready to face the world, I kicked over my coffee mug and although the internal turmoil was pretty messy, and not particularly grown-up, I managed to get through it with only a tear or two, and a grim visage – no tantrum, no rage – but endured a moody gray cloud on my experience the entire day. I can count it as a success… I wish it weren’t in me to be so inclined to count it as a failure.  Today it is harder to treat myself well.

I still make the effort to take care of me, to give myself some compassion, to be kinder with myself, in spite of being so incredibly irritable and moody, and that’s where I see the success and the growth; I have the will to act in my own interests, even when I am wading through emotional bullshit, hormones, and wreckage.  That’s lovely and new. I find, to my very great delight, that being able to take care of me, time and again, proves to be an exceptionally direct route to also being able to take care of people who matter to me, and even simply to treating others well, as a general practice.

It’s a good thing, too, because I frankly couldn’t have treated people with the nastiness and raw volatility I had within myself today, it would not have been acceptable, at all.

The calm of approaching twilight. Tomorrow is a whole new experience.

The calm of approaching twilight. Tomorrow is a whole new experience.

 

 

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, Words

Strange Quiet Morning

April 7, 2014 //
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I woke early, feeling rested and unconcerned. It’s a nice frame of mind to start off in. Still human, though, and within seconds self-doubt, hurt feelings, vague disappointments, and miscellaneous baggage dredged from my waking consciousness was launched at me as a barrage of discontented feelings. Seriously, Brain, was that at all necessary? First thing? Couldn’t wait until after meditation, yoga, a shower, a coffee? A bit less than two years ago, it would have been all that was required to kick-start a shitty morning, filled with misunderstandings, miscommunication, and moodiness. This morning wasn’t that.

Each attempt on my waking mind that my demons made was met, this morning, with the gentle observation “that’s not about me”. One by one the momentary feelings showed how momentary they are, by dissipating and leaving nothing behind as I reminded myself that first this bit of weirdness and suffering, then that one, were simply ‘not about me’. Turns out this is also a nice frame of mind with which to face the earliest bit of morning; taking care of me, comfortably.

The three biggest take-aways in my year+ of studying, so far, have been 1. Mindfulness, 2. Perspective, and now 3. Sufficiency.  Having all three tends to find me feeling contented, balanced, and enjoying my experience. Lacking any one of them and I find myself suffering, volatile, reactive, and often ‘unable to figure things out’.  It’s a pleasant change.  I’m grateful to have stayed around to experience it. 🙂

From this perspective it's all blue skies and spring time...

From this perspective it’s all blue skies and spring time…

It is, however, still a journey, and I still have a long one ahead of me. A lifetime, actually. As beautiful as my experience can be these days…

...looking beneath the surface is revealing.

…looking beneath the surface is revealing.

Even my generally-very-pleasant-mostly-pretty-balanced experience these days isn’t ‘everything there is’ to who I am. There’s more work to do. I am at long last perhaps well enough, whole enough, to face doing it. I am a trauma survivor. I am a domestic violence survivor. I am a rape survivor. I am a war veteran.  These are part of who I am. There was a time when enduring these experiences seemed an endless feature of my emotional landscape, continuously playing out again and again in my emotional background, coloring my here and now whether I was sleeping or awake. I suffered. I endured. I cried. I survived.

That’s an important detail. I’ll say it again. I survived.

So, I’m not without damage. I have some scars, both emotional and physical. Still, here I am. Life, generally, in my here and now is pleasant and comfortable. I find myself on the edge of wellness and faced with a decision… do I stand fast, in this pretty comfortable place – or do I continue to grow, develop, work on me, sort things out, and… do I follow through? That last isn’t so obvious and transparent.  It’s this – although crimes perpetrated against me in the past are likely beyond prosecution now, there’s the matter of military compensation. Do I submit paperwork on my military sexual trauma?  That’s the hard question. A yes answer means committing to telling the tale, on paper, with as much documentation as I can track down. It means being intimate with some very painful moments in my life and learning to be able to discuss them without tears, hysteria, or losing myself in the unpredictable outcome of real rage. I could just sooth myself and look away, couldn’t I? Enjoy where I am now, and let the past go… wherever the past goes. Couldn’t I?

Could I?

I often think the safer choice – emotionally safer – is to let it all go, let it somehow simply cease to be… but as soon as my body begins to relax into the awareness and comfort that I am safe here, now, I feel the awareness of those others, those younger versions of me, still crying in their sleep, still hurting, still so sad. Who takes up their cause? Who seeks redress for them? Who ‘makes it right’, if it can be made right at all, ever? There is no one to advocate for them, but me.  This, then, is ‘about me’, and more about telling the tale, respecting myself, and healing those hurt little girls still lurking in my ‘baggage claim area’, than the paperwork, itself, but it appears the paperwork may be how I get there.

I enjoy how far I have come. I know I have further to go. Today is a good day for a journey. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Rape, Relationships, Spring, women, Words
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