Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

I slept like crap last night. I woke shortly after 1:00 am, and never really went back to sleep in any restful way. I wasn’t “tossing and turning” or frustrated with my sleeplessness. It was just there, and the night was what it was. I was noise sensitive once I woke, so the industrial gear in my studio drying out the water damage from the leak we found some days ago seemed more than usually noisy. Not helpful. Mysterious creaks and miscellaneous “new house” sounds I still haven’t figured out added to the “din” (in the quiet of night). I was light sensitive, too; every time I turned over, my awareness of some small indicator light or power button would re-wake me, seeming infernally bright in the darkness. Add to that my dumb “wearable” fitness device; every movement caused the silly thing to light up to “detect” whether I was awake, catching my eye, and pushing me further from sleep, again.

It just wasn’t a great night for sleeping, for me, I guess. I shrugged it off first thing, after trying to grab another hour of sleep before starting the work day. It didn’t work out very well. You already know how those thing go, right? Best sleep of the night in that last hour, and then… the alarm. LOL It is what it is. I hope I sleep well tonight.

My Traveling Partner spotted my fatigue early on. He’s been supremely considerate and gentle with me, nudging me in the direction of this or that thing I find myself on the edge of losing track of, as the day proceeds. Still managing to stay on track with his own projects, too. I take a moment to drink some water, and feel the love and gratitude that fills my heart when I see him step past the door to the deck, while he works outside in the sunshine. He’s been putting in the hours and the effort to help make our home together here really special. I often find myself wondering what other small thing I can do to show him how much I appreciate all of it, or to lift him up when he’s having a down moment or a frustrating challenge. I catch myself thinking of him, and I smile so hard my face hurts. It’s a nice problem to have.

My partner calls me out onto the deck to see how the new skirting on the hot tub looks. Wow. Project well-finished, and very little left to do. I feel loved and cared for. Appreciated. Understood. He… “gets me”. I take some pictures. Say some pleasant words. I’m still so tired… my thoughts are disorganized. Time to call it a day… wait…

…My work day ended moments ago, and I still feel groggy and stupid. lol

I’m sipping my coffee, watching the dawn become day. I can’t honestly say the morning is “routine”; the move into this house is still quite recent, and a great many of my routines are altered, or broken. The “new normal” is still developing, and I don’t really know what that will look like, in days or weeks, or months, or two years from now. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go. The new normal does not need my help, it’ll be what it is once it becomes so. 🙂

…This coffee is fairly terrible…

There is a work day ahead of me. I’m struggling to fully embrace that. I’m tired, as a result of sleeping… poorly? That’s not wholly accurate. The sleep I got was deep and restful. It was just interrupted, a lot, and it takes a lot of 90 minute to 2 hour naps to achieve a restful night’s sleep. lol I feel distracted by tiredness. (I also feel acutely aware there is another, more appropriate word for “tiredness” that I can’t quite recall…) I’d very much like the day to be over, so I can go back to sleep. LOL It’s not quite 6:00 am. So unlike me.

This morning I am lost in thought, contemplating “fairness” and “unfairness”, and what it means to have a “level playing field” in life (or love). I am giving thought to how easily I take things personally – even knowing that generally speaking, “it isn’t personal” applies to most situations. Even those few that are direct, targeted, willful acts (or words) of aggression between human beings aren’t really “personal” – they have ever so much more to do with the person doing the thing than they are ever about the person against whom the words or acts are directed. I mull that over awhile, and drink my coffee.

recommended summer reading

I sit quietly with this moment, and this fairly terrible cup of coffee. I feel fortunate in life (and in love, if I’m being real). I feel grateful for what I have, how far I’ve come, and how much chaos has been transformed into order, and yes, even how much healing has occurred, over time. I sit quietly, and let the scales gently balance, metaphorically speaking. It’s so easy to become entangled with a partner’s experience, or to internalize world drama or conflict. It’s easy to take small things personally, or to make much of something small. It’s easy to wreck the experience of a singularly pleasant moment with a harsh word, a misunderstanding, an erroneous assumption, then place the blame on the circumstances, or some other human being… I sip my coffee aware of the quizzical look on my face. No answers, just questions, and a handful of useful practices. It is, at least, a starting point.

The minutes tick by. The blue morning sky hints at a hot summer day ahead. I wonder what I’ll do with it? Will I be my best self, from moment to moment, or create an emotional inferno of small shit to apologize for, instead? Something in between? (There’s very nearly always “something in between” any two extremes, just saying, “don’t succumb to false dichotomies” is very good advice.) I remind myself that life (and love, and emotion) are very nuanced, filled with subtleties and hidden information. I remind myself to slow down, to be present, to stay centered in my own experience, and in this moment, here. I’m tired… which puts me at risk of drama and bullshit and chaos, but none of that demands that I be a shitty human being – it’s a new opportunity to practice doing a bit more/better at being the woman I most want to be. So… there’s that. 🙂

I notice the time… time to begin again. Again. 😉

I went to bed in pain last night. I woke up in pain this morning. It’s been days of pain more than typically severe, following days of admittedly “over-doing it” during the move. Manual labor is hard work. I mean… that’s obvious, right? It’s why people get paid for it (and should likely be paid more than they are). I’m not as up to it as I was as a younger (and fitter) woman. That’s just real. Fuck I’m tired of being in this much pain, though. It seems endless, at this point, and no real relief in sight…

…I breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go (again). I stretch gently, start my day with some yoga, and meditation. I check my posture as I sit here sipping coffee. I take a moment for real presence with my body, and ask an important question in this moment; “how do I feel right now?” There’s a reason for that – implicit memory changes slowly over time. If I become mired in my experience of pain, moment-to-moment, I slowly become more inclined to perceive pain as an “always” condition, unceasing and unchanging – and that’s not accurate. My experience (and the result of my effort to manage my pain) varies. In this moment, right now? It’s not that bad. I’ve got some chronic long-standing muscle tension/pain, and that’s there…but it’s as mild as it generally gets, at the start of the day, and that’s true today, too. I sit with that for a few moments, maintaining awareness of the lack of severity right now. Manageable. I make a point to relax my shoulders (again) and correct my posture (again). I know that “pushing myself” too far without giving my body a chance to heal and recover is a poor choice. Moving was a lot of work. Sore muscles recover, given a chance, and good self-care. Painful, but irrelevant. I allow myself to consider that “sore muscles” may be the majority of my pain, lately.

…Last night was bad though…

…I breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go (again). I pull my restless monkey-mind back to this moment, this mild amount of pain, and hold my awareness of it, present, alert, observing. As I sit, I almost don’t hurt at all… I make a point of feeling that, and holding that experience in my awareness for some moments. Implicit memory changes slowly over time.

I sip my morning coffee, watching the sky lighten beyond the window and the fence, beyond the pear tree and the neighbor’s house. It’s a new day. I can begin again. 🙂

Well, today is properly “the day”. The computers will be shut off, packed in their boxes, and prepared for the move. The last of the significant packing and boxing will be done, in preparation for the moving truck (that’s tomorrow). We took a day to rest up and hang out, yesterday, and got to bed “at a decent hour” to ensure we have taken care of these fragile vessels to be at maximum readiness for a couple days of significant manual labor. I slept restlessly. I’m not surprised. I won’t be surprised if my Traveling Partner’s sleep was also restless; we’re both excited, and eager to get the move done and start this new chapter in our lives.

I woke early. It was an attack of vertigo that woke me, the room seeming to spin like madness, in spite of my closed eyes. I opened them and attempted to hold back my nausea by grabbing the edge of the sofa, where I was sleeping, when I woke. I straightened my body with great care, and stifled the panic that comes with the vertigo, reminding myself it is only a sensation, not representative of any sort of “reality” outside my own impaired sense of balance. I breathed through the panic. Exhaled, relaxed, double-checking with each breath that my spine was straight, and that my muscles were relaxed. I waited it out, reminding myself to make a note for my next doctor’s appointment. I already know better than to attempt to get up and walk when I have vertigo. lol

Once my vertigo passed, I got up and made coffee. I have an early morning errand, then back to the house to pack things into boxes, alongside my Traveling Partner. He may not even be up when I leave. I find myself hoping he rests deeply, and maybe even sleeps in. We can have coffee together when I get back. 🙂 Tomorrow feels peculiarly far away, and also almost upon us. Funny how my sense of time and timing works, and how subjective, and even abstract, it can be. Even the vertigo seems to simply add a surrealist twist to the already peculiar moment-between-moments. I sip my coffee contentedly, and with some caution; if the vertigo isn’t entirely and completely cleared up 100%, I can’t safely risk driving, at all. That would fuck up any number of details of our careful planning; my morning errand involves letting contractors into the house to do some “before we move in” things we’d like to have done. 🙂

Receiving the house keys was a pleasant moment… I somehow managed to return to the rental (definitely no longer feels like “home”) without taking even one “share-worthy” photo of our new home… just pictures of smoke detectors, appliances, the fuse box, the FiOS box… basically just detail photos of things that need batteries, or that we’d want to know what the model numbers are, and those sorts of very practical details. lol I took one selfie for my Traveling Partner of my big big smile with the forest beyond our deck in the background, and sent that to him before I got in the car for the return trip. With the Independence Day weekend just ahead, there feels like more pressure to get things done “on schedule” than truly exists. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I sip my morning coffee. I smile, and glance at the time.

Move out priorities often differ from move in priorities. We’ve held back from packing the things we reliably use every day, because we’re still using them. At some point, all that has to be packed, too. The moving in needs also revolve around what we need first, but the needs change a bit. I don’t think our computers will be a high priority until after our bedroom is ready for sleep, our kitchen ready for cooking, and our bathrooms ready for personal care. Entertaining ourselves has mattered greatly leading up to the move out. The move in, though, is more than a little entertaining (as well as laborious), without connectivity, without computers, without videos, music, or games. I find myself feeling far more relaxed that with previous moves, and prepared to be comfortably flexible with the different approach we each take to the move. My Traveling Partner has a plan for the move. I have a plan for the move. Our plans overlap in spots, but emphasize different details. I work consciously on “staying in my lane” and trusting he has details handled, just as he does for the details I’m handling. It feels fun, and emotionally safe, and secure. Team work. I sit smiling quietly, sipping coffee, grateful for this partnership, and this (so far) easy move.

I’m finding it a bit hard to finish my writing this morning…but it’s most definitely time to wrap it up, and begin again. 🙂

My duplex neighbors were partying hard last night. I slept hard, but poorly. I woke, abruptly, at 6:30 am (on a Saturday), for no obvious reason. I got up and made coffee, waking my Traveling Partner, too. This morning I take a few minutes to wake up slowly, in the quiet of my studio. I can see the CPU fan on my computer spin; I don’t hear it over my tinnitus. I am in pain. My arthritis does not appreciate the higher humidity of recent days, and I ache. I’m stiff when I move. My head hurts. Rough morning, physically, and I’m a bit cross over it – thus the self-enforced moments of solitude, giving me a chance to be a better human being before I have a chance to snarl at my Traveling Partner over something pointless or petty. It’s a practice that works for me.

I get through the waking up portion of the day one practice at a time.

My “to do list” for the weekend is now sorted into “outside stuff” and “inside stuff”. I’m not certain why I bothered with doing that; it’s obvious from the listed tasks, and they were already grouped thusly. Simply proceeding down the list would like have been sufficient. Still, it seemed, in that moment, a distinction worth making. I was not yet entirely awake. lol

I sip my coffee, correct my posture, stand up, stretch, sit down, breathe, exhale, relax… and correct my posture again. It doesn’t do anything for the pain immediately. It’ll help later on if I’m not slumped over my keyboard like some sort of mythical writing monster.

I find my mind wandering to brunches out. I fucking miss brunch. lol Life in the time of pandemic… Brunch is the thing I think I miss most.

I gaze into my half empty coffee mug. I’m already thinking about a second cup. It’s already time to begin again. There’s an entire day ahead of me, and plenty to do. 🙂