Archives for category: Post Traumatic Stress

I’m sitting quietly, waiting for the sun.. short walk today and then hurrying home. It’s an important appointment day for my Traveling Partner and I took the day off. No time pressure beyond leaving on time.

I’m sitting comfortably in my partner’s pick-up truck, instead of cozily in my Mazda. I feel safe and it’s an interesting shift in perspective. I took the truck to more efficiently prepare for the hour long drive a little later; I filled the gas tank and cleaned the windows. The Mazda’s stiff sporty suspension makes for an uncomfortable ride for someone with an injury. I won’t make that mistake again!

Breathe, exhale, relax.

Today is 100% about getting my Traveling Partner where he needs to go and taking care of his needs. Once we’ve returned home, I can take care of mine. I took the entire day off in part because yesterday afternoon was so much intense manual labor (moving all the furniture around in the bedroom for more efficient use of the space, at my Traveling Partner’s request), I was just too exhausted to face starting the work week after also hustling to get to and from the appointment in the morning. I’m just not up to it, and I need more time to take care of myself, too.

Today though…an opportunity to demonstrate love and provide care. This is sometimes difficult shit. Injured (or sick) people are often not their best selves. The demands can be substantial and difficult to meet satisfactorily. It’s complicated. Am I up to the challenge? Today I am hoping to avoid taking small moments of discord personally. I’m committed to being pleasant, agreeable and available to support my partner. I’m hoping to avoid being a bitch about… anything, really, but most particularly the basic care my partner truly needs and which I committed to providing. It’s hard sometimes. It’s a lot. It’s okay; this too will pass.

So, a new day begins with a new sunrise. I’ll walk a familiar trail – and follow my path with care and love and willing to begin again, as often as I must. Probably won’t be a perfect effort; I’m not a perfect person. My results vary. I have choices. I hope to make wise ones.

…I remind myself to breathe…

It’s time to begin again.

Well, damn. That’s more than a little embarrassing…

Yesterday was quite a lovely day. I mean, it was definitely tending to be so, and I was relaxed and enjoying the day. Work was busy, complicated, and still quite fun. The day ended well, and I just had one errand to run to finish the week and call it the weekend. Easy. Routine.

… Right?.. Right?!..

It’s pretty easy to forget, when things are going well, that I do legitimately have some… “issues”. I start feeling as if I’m “past all that”. Feeling like my chaos is neatly tidied up, the damage repaired. “Nothing to see here.” It’s a pleasantly comfortable feeling, complacency, isn’t it? Which makes it all suck so much worse when shit goes sideways in some horrifically catastrophic feeling way that scatters shards of lingering trauma, broken bits of emotional baggage, and the wreckage of good intentions everywhere. It’s pretty horrible. The emotional damage done to loved ones dealing with it is embarrassing, inexcusable, and inflicts further trauma. It’s hard to make an adequate apology, making amends is even more difficult, and the fucking embarrassment, g’damn. The shame is a heavy burden to bear, and it can be complicated to prevent that from flaring up later as still more emotional bullshit. Fuuuuuuck.

So human.

Yesterday? Yesterday went sideways over a fucking product return. Yep. That was enough to push me entirely over the edge in actual seconds, and I may never truly understand why, let alone ever be able to explain it. It was bad. I lost my temper, my grip on reality, my ability to manage my emotions or even communicate clearly at all. My Traveling Partner was trying to help, but was immediately triggered, himself by my batshit-crazy bullshit, and wholly disadvantaged by also being medicated in a way that limited his ability to manage his own emotions or to support mine. It was (emotionally) messy. Ugly. Unpleasant. And it was over a fucking package. Over a moment of confusion and doubt regarding whether I understood which specific package it was and what return code belonged to it. Fucking stupid shit. Un-fucking-believable and a completely inexcusable overreaction to the circumstances.

No, apologies aren’t always adequate, which sucks. I still apologize. I’m still sincerely contrite and regretful. The damage is done and it may take time to rebuild a sense of emotional safety and trust. The whole messy business amounts to a powerful reminder regarding complacency. A reminder that mental illness is a real thing and the practices I practice to keep my shit together and foster mental and emotional wellness are not “a cure”. I still very much have to remain alert and self-aware.

…Well, shit…

I feel bad for the Anxious Adventurer. I wanted to set clearer expectations about my mental health and what challenges living in my home could present. My Traveling Partner shut that down, at the time. (I never asked why and don’t know.) What a shitty experience all around.

Here’s the thing though…

Waiting for the sun.

… Today is a new day. I can (and will) begin again. Yes, flare ups of mental illness suck. They’re scary and embarrassing. It’s horrible to understand how I have hurt those dear to me (and it doesn’t lessen the pain or the damage done that I’m talking about emotional violence not physical violence). I’ve still got to acknowledge the circumstances honestly. Reflect on things with calm self-awareness after the fact. Restore lost order. Make apologies and amends – and also move on and let it go.

Begin again.

It’s a new day. New challenges. New opportunities. A fresh set of moments, choices, and experiences. The day begins well, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for the sun. I started a new medication yesterday, intended to ease my occipital neuralgia and possibly reduce the pain of my cervicogenic headache. Will it be effective? Don’t know yet, but so far I am tolerating well, and it seems to have a pleasantly calming effect without knocking me out. In spite of numerous interruptions to my sleep last night, I slept well and deeply. The day begins well.

…I wonder where this path leads..?

Daybreak brings a new beginning.

Scattered plump raindrops greet me as I step onto the trail. I grab my rain poncho “just in case”. The trail stretches ahead, familiar, but also unknown; each new day is different.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to get to it. We’ve each got to walk our own mile. The trail isn’t always smooth, but the choices (and consequences) are my own. When I stumble, I know I can begin again.

It’s a quiet start to the day. The morning air feels subtly autumnal. I find myself regretting that I didn’t wear my fleece hoodie. The walking warms me up though.

One perspective on the morning.

There’s a low mist clinging to the ground along the river when I begin my walk. It drifts over the meadow adjacent to the trail, becoming a thin fog. It’s very quiet this morning. I don’t hear any birds, or traffic, only my footsteps and my breathing.

It is a routine work day, possibly a busy one. There is a project to be done, later, and later still an evening meal to prepare. I sigh quietly as I walk. The to-do list is long. Having the Anxious Adventurer in the household lifts a measure of the everyday housekeeping burden, but greatly increases the “mental workload” and emotional labor landing on me day after day, on top of the increases associated with caregiving for my Traveling Partner. I’m less physically exhausted than I had been…but… I often find myself very much “over” dealing with people at all, far sooner than I typically might. It’s a struggle to get enough time alone, unbothered by what everyone else needs moment to moment, and undistracted by pings, questions, or requests for my thoughts on the various topics. I often end up feeling like a bitch just trying to get a moment alone with my thoughts.

… I’m grateful for this solitary time in the mornings (and I am pretty certain it’s keeping me sane).

I turn the last bend on the trail and sit down for a moment to think and to write. “This too will pass,” I remind myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin again… I head down the trail towards the car, and the beginning of the work day.

There’s a dense misty rain falling this morning, here at the trailhead. It’s not enough to keep me off the trail. I’m grateful for the rain poncho that I keep in the car with my boots and gear that I like to have on hand “just in case”. I’m not in any particular hurry. It’s a holiday Monday and, with the drizzle this morning, I have the trail (and the park) to myself. I take my time enjoying it.

The grays and greens of a rainy summer morning have their own beauty.

The scents of the park are different on a morning like this. Petrichor. The birds are more plentiful and a bit noisier. I hear a different assortment of birdcalls. The minimal traffic on the highway nearby creates a hushed background noise, tires on wet pavement, that sounds almost like the wind in distant trees, or waves on an unseen shore. The tiny misty raindrops make no noise. They cover everything quietly, silently soaking surfaces, and making everything more damp than actually wet. “Good for the garden”, I think to myself, but it may not be raining there; it wasn’t raining when I left the house.

I listen to the sound of my breathing, and my tinnitus. There have been pretty clear signs lately that I may be developing a real hearing impairment. I’ve made an appointment with an audiologist. I find myself wondering if all of this head and neck shit is related… the hearing, the tinnitus, the headache, the degenerative disk disease, the eustachian tube dysfunction, the weird whatever the fuck is going on with my collar bone… Probably not, but g’damn – I’d very much like to get it all sorted out and at least have a clear accurate understandable diagnosis. It would be something to work with.

… These fragile fucking meat suits in which we reside are disappointingly unreliable and prone to failure over time…

I just keep walking. Breathing. Practicing. Living my life has become a thing I have learned to embrace with a certain joy, in spite of pain, aging, and whatever bullshit and baggage I am dragging along. There’s always plenty of that to go around, I can at least enjoy my life and treat myself with kindness.

I enjoyed a pretty splendid day with my Traveling Partner, yesterday. We shared the day shopping online for a tool he was wanting. It was tremendous fun. When the Anxious Adventurer returned home from work, I made a hearty fairly healthy dinner for the three of us (although I went a bit overboard on the portions). It was well-received and there are leftovers for lunch today. None of this is particularly noteworthy by itself, it’s just lovely to feel life returning to a more comfortable commonplace emotional “atmosphere” as my partner continues to recover from his surgery. Encouraging and a huge relief; we humans too easily assume that whatever things are like in this moment now somehow says something about future moments or represents some kind of ongoing state of being. That’s rarely the case, good or bad. Change is.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My arthritis is griefing me hardcore this morning. No surprise; it’s rainy. Damp. Humid. Of course I hurt. I check the time and take appropriate medication. Best to get ahead of it, so I can more easily enjoy the day with my Traveling Partner once I return home.

… It’s still raining. Daybreak has come and the sun has risen, though the only confirmation is the lighter gray of the sky and the visibility, limited only by the misty rain and not at all by darkness. I’ve got my boots on. I’ve got my cane by my side. I’ve got my rain gear ready to put on as soon as I step out of the car. Nice quiet morning to walk a favorite trail along the river and the marsh. I guess it’s time to get on with it…

It’s a good time to begin again.

It’s a new day. The sunrise has started. The trail ahead is revealed. The morning air is sweet with the scent of meadow grasses and wildflowers. The weather is pleasant and the temperature mild. It is, to be brief, a beautiful summer morning.

A new beginning.

I could have started down the trail earlier, but chose instead to sit quietly for a little while, enjoying this lovely moment. Worth it. It’s not that anything particularly noteworthy or interesting happened, quite the contrary; it’s just a pleasant quiet moment. Still, it’s been a very nice way to enjoy it, simply to sit quietly and be.

A lovely moment.

I put on my boots feeling relaxed, refreshed, and uplifted. The sunrise inspires me. Perhaps I will paint today, between loads of laundry? No grand agenda in mind, and the day ahead has no firm plan. It’s a long weekend, too, suitable for hanging out with my Traveling Partner and enjoying our precious all-to-brief mortal lives together. Maybe some gardening? I smile, feeling at ease and comfortable in my skin.

Breathe, exhale, relax.

I hit the trail happily with a goal in mind. 5 miles. Seems a good morning for it. The trail is not crowded yet. The sky flares boldly with shades of orange, peach, and pink, with hints of soft mauve and lavender. My mind visits my pastel box on the sly, recalling colors I have that would be useful to capture this colorful sunrise. I sigh contentedly and walk on.

So many colors, but can I capture a sunrise?

At the halfway point of my walk, I sit with my thoughts, looking out across the summer meadow. In winter, much of this broad meadow becomes marsh, and the migrating birds have it to themselves. I enjoy the view in all the seasons. I have not always been able to get this far down this trail. It’s very satisfying when I do, and worth stopping to enjoy the view – and the achievement. Someone else might not think this relatively modest success truly amounts to an “achievement”, I get it, but… I am living my experience, not theirs. lol

… Our small joys matter too, savor them!

I remind myself to be kind to people. I can’t really know what they might be going through, or how hard life is for them. It costs me nothing to be kind, it only requires consideration and practice. The “payoff” in goodwill (and a feeling of decency and civility) is very much worth the modest effort required.

I meditate for some little while, until I hear voices coming down the trail. I stand and stretch and prepare to finish my walk. The journey is the destination. It’s time to begin again.