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Are You Kidding Me With This Sh1t?

August 1, 2022 //
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Omg, just… fuck this entire day, already. I’d laugh but I’m still working through pulling myself back from the brink of this absolutely pointless and unproductive tantrum. Honestly, I suspect I’m just thoroughly “peopled out” and then some; I really really really earnestly and most definitely just need a real break and some time (days) alone. It feels like one thing after another, right now, and I’m at grave risk moment-to-moment of losing perspective. I mean – it could be worse. I could be living a life that puts me at real risk of actual harm. This is not that. I could be struggling to survive at all, and this is not that, either. I’m just fussy, and over having to attend to the demands of others around me (without regard to whether those are reasonable, or whether I’m paid to deal with those). Over. It. I need some me time, and I’ve let this need go unmet too long, most recently simply because I was too sick to enjoy the plans I had made to meet this need – the postponement was necessary. Now I’ve just got to get through this week…

…One new beginning at a time.

So, yeah. I’m cross. My morning hike was okay. The sunrise was lovely. It was fine. Hard to find real satisfaction in it; my Traveling Partner woke while I was out on the trail. Our first (digital) interaction was complicated by my involvement with other things and his pre-coffee state. Misunderstanding and miscommunication – sorted out before I returned home, but before any of that, it distracted me from my own experience and what I was doing (for myself) in the moment. Later I got to be talked-down-to by a stranger helping my neighbor next door. He could not have known I am an artist and I work in color – a lot – or that I’m knowledgeable about such matters. A discussion between my partner and I about the color the house next door is being painted opened the door for this other person to “helpfully” interject his opinions. I managed not to bite his head off, but I was on the edge of being rude when I firmly dismissed his opinion and turned my back. Two or three more such moments, in the context of the work day, stacked up on each other and I’m just fucking done. I have shit to do, and prefer to be quietly productive and not interrupted. So far, even that isn’t working out ideally well.

I end up starting my Monday cross with the world, and daydreaming about my upcoming camping trip intently. I keep pulling myself back to the work in front of me – which reminds me how irritable I am, all over again. Not my best bit of adulting, today. I let my irritability keep driving me to follow-up on the details. Power bricks all charged? No? Do that. Hey, how about that Kindle? Am I taking it? Maybe? Is it charged? No? Do that, too. Camera batteries all fully charged? They get their turn on the charger, too. Are my toiletries packed for camping? I make a note to tackle that on a break, later. Little details that matter out on the trail; I just keep at it. The thoughts come. I put them to use. It’s one way to burn off some of this irritation through useful activity. My results vary, but I figure if I just keep at it, eventually I’ll be over my bullshit.

No idea what the noise outside is… sounds like someone cranking an engine that will not start. Could be something to do with the painting going on next door. A construction project in my partner’s shop? I just want to work. I just want to stop hearing things. My tinnitus is so loud… how is there still all this annoying noise?? I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Remind myself to let it go; none of this, not any of it, is at all personal – even my irritability is likely more symptomatic than “about” anything happening right now. I put on noise canceling ear-covering heavily padded headphones. No music. Just… quiet. It’s that day. At least right now. Now I’ve simply got to nudge myself in the direction of beginning again…

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Frustration, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer

Sick and Tired

July 12, 2022 //
2

By way of a quick pre-amble, I’ve mostly just been busy with life and not writing. Trying to work in all the other things I’d like to do with each precious day… Meant to write last week, at least a couple times I started in that direction, got distracted with other things. I’d like to think it is a sign of overall emotional wellness and long-time healing that I don’t feel so compelled to write… but… more likely, it’s just hard to juggle all the things, and at least for now, the writing seems to most comfortably take a backseat in my list of priorities.

I’m sipping my coffee on a sunny summer morning in mid-July. I guess it’s probably an okay cup of coffee. It’s hot. I tested negative for COVID on a home test – twice, a couple days apart. I’m vaxxed. Boosted. I stay current on flu shots, too. I’m still sick. I traveled to Seattle to meet with colleagues from global locations. There’s always risk of contagion involved in such things – and that was equally true before the pandemic as it is during. Head colds. Flu. Norovirus. Legionnaire’s. These human bodies are vulnerable to attack from viruses and microbes. Not much to do about that besides limit the risk, where possible.

…I knew the overbooked meeting space was risky…

By the last night in Seattle last week, I knew I’d come down with something. I’d hoped it would turn out to be some minor head cold. I’m now enduring day 5 of some serious “ick”, possibly the flu. I mean, it could be worse, though, right? I’m mostly pretty able to care for myself. My Traveling Partner is here, too, looking after me with his special brand of loving care. I’m grateful. I’m also sick and fatigued with poor quality sleep and the ongoing struggle to breathe comfortably. My hopes for “just a cold” evaporated when this shit moved from my sinuses into my lungs. Fucking hell. My voice comes and goes, and is froggy and strained when I have the use of it. My sinuses are still draining gross crap into a seeming endless quantity of tissues. The cough is painful. My breathing sounds like I’m keeping tiny tea kettles and doggie squeeze toys hidden in my shirt. I’m fussy and have a short fuse. I want to sleep, but it’s harder to breathe when I lay down, with the result that my brain keeps me on high alert, preventing me from falling asleep. I’ve been dozing off during the night, for an hour here or there, waking to lay waste to more tissues, or have a cup of hot tea, or… cry. Yeah. Weirdly, this particular sickness has specifically hit me hard in the emotional resilience places. I’m easily frustrated. Easily moved to tears. I can’t be easy to be around right now.

…My Traveling Partner, doing his best to care for me and see to my needs when he can, makes it super clear I am very difficult to be around right now. He’s obviously trying to help. He’s obviously frustrated with me being ill. Signs of his enduring affection and love are all around me here at home. I focus on those, and not on his very human frustration with (and worry over) me being so sick.

…I’m very sick. Legit. Rare for me to be so sick. It’s not the sort of “drive to the ER” kind of thing COVID can be. I’m just sick. And miserable with it. And tired.

I think I am starting to get over it? Maybe? Yesterday I had enough reserved to water the garden. I had enough appetite to eat something besides chicken broth. Last night I slept – almost through the night, waking only twice, and not for very long. The cough is worse today. I feel weak and dizzy. I gave up on work after a couple hours this morning, after thinking I could potentially work half the day. I’m drenched in sweat and I’d just fucking go back to bed, except that laying down just means listening to myself wheeze and whistle while struggling to breathe, and I don’t feel like it. I also don’t “feel like” doing anything else. At all.

…Trust me, I’m being a complete fucking child about being sick right now. I hate being sick…

I had planned to return to Seattle next week. I’ve canceled that trip. No way I’ll really be well enough to undertake the effort, and may even present a health risk to others if I travel. I’d rather not spread this around the community, certainly I don’t wish to take it to another city in another state. I’ve got camping planned for week after next… from this vantage point, I don’t see that happening, either. Camping isn’t fun at all if I’m even a little sick or run down. I need my reserves to be at 100% for that kind of activity. I’m trying not to become prematurely disappointed – there’s a limited chance I’ll be up for it by then. Maybe.

I’m eager to get over this shit and begin again!

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Categories breathe, gratitude, health, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights

Storms on a Distant Horizon

May 15, 2022 //
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Good flight, so far. Lots of storms. Lightening. Beautiful. I entertain myself shooting video clips of lightening in the distance as it illuminates the clouds. The sky is “already ” beginning to show signs of the coming dawn. My brain feels confused by that; the clock says 01:14. Soon we’ll land, and upon reconnecting, it’ll be 3 hours “into the future”.

I haven’t slept. Although I often doze on long flights, it’s rare that I actually sleep deeply or restfully. I didn’t expect to. I dozed a couple times. 20-30 minute catnaps, nothing more. I will nap in the hotel, after check-in.

… time passes…

It’s evening, now. Almost 18:00. Florida “has thick air” – dense, still, humid. There has been a hint of coming storms in the air here, all day. The storms over the midwest seem to have followed me here. lol I turn off the A/C in the room. Shut off the lights as night falls. I shoot a few videos. Reliably the most “dramatic” and eye-catching lightening immediately precedes turning on the video, or quickly follows turning it off. LOL Timing matters.

I sit quietly, entertained by “nature’s lightshow”. The heaviest of the drenching rain has moved on, but the lightening persists. There was a balcony light on for a while. It’s off now. Timers? My footage would have been much better without that fucking balcony light. I stop writing for a few minutes and just watch, listen, and breathe. My cell phone is on the charger; no video right now. LOL Timing matters.

City lights in the distance seem to sparkle. Cars move along roadways. It all seems so… “fancy”. I feel lucky to see it; there are very few thunderstorms where I live.

I was so wiped out from traveling that once I checked into the hotel, and got sorted out for where things are located (like the convention I’m actually here for), I crashed hard and napped for a couple hours. Got up. Showered. Went and checked-in to the conference itself. Had another nap. Roused myself and attended the evening conference “mixer” – just a meet-n-greet of various professionals attending, and the folks who are hosting the whole thing. It was pleasant enough, I supposed. Not so much my thing, personally, but I was tickled to run into a couple folks I know from elsewhere: a former colleague, folks I’ve met previously through vendor partnerships when I was employed other places. Everyone seemed to have a good time. Once it was clear the socializing was beginning to turn into “partying”, I made a gracious exit and returned to my room, delicious but unfinished Mai Tai still in my hand. Those are fucking strong. I have one last sip as I enter my room, and put the rest in the mini fridge. (I probably won’t finish it; that’s a lot of alcohol for me, and I rarely drink.) Tasty. Too much. Like travel and conferences. LOL

The thunder rolls on. An hour ago I was unbelievably sleepy again… now, less so. I’m captivated by the lightening, and spellbound by the thunder. I’m missing my Traveling Partner. We chatted awhile, a bit ago, before the thunderstorm started. Soon, sleep, but for now, I’m just sitting here with a glass of water, enjoying this thunderstorm. 😀 …This too shall pass. Storms do. Impermanence demonstrated. I sit with that metaphor, sipping my water.

Soon enough, it’ll be a new day, and time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being

Coming Home

May 7, 2022 //
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Oh, damn, it feels so good to be home. 🙂 What a lovely moment, returning home to a welcoming embrace, and a wee flower on the geranium in the pot by the front door. 😀

Sometimes the simplest things matter the most.

It was a lovely homecoming. A quiet genial evening together, spent gently. A good night’s rest – finally, after days of restless slumber in a noisy hotel. (Note to self: avoid the room directly above the automatic garage door in that hotel! Lesson learned.) I woke to the smell of coffee, which is a marvelous way to wake up on a Saturday morning. I greet my Traveling Partner, already awake and getting some work done on one project or another, on his laptop. Feels so good to be home, again.

…Next week, I’ve got a business conference far away…

Looks like I’ll be at home for June. July is messy, with a holiday, followed by a few days of business travel, broken up by a week at home in between. So far I’m okay with it, and I honestly don’t think it’ll last as things go; those travel expenses add up, and at some point, I expect folks will become a lot more cautious about spending that kind of money for that sort of thing. This last week, out of a week actually in the office, I only took two meetings in an actual meeting space, the rest were still video conference calls, and of the two meetings that involved sitting down in an office? Yeah, one of those was one-on-one, and the content would just as easily been managed on a call, and the other? The person hosting the meeting still attended by video conference. lol Fairly pointless, generally, although I met some very cool (and quite expert) colleagues in person that otherwise I’d never be acquainted with; we’re in very different fields, with limited opportunity to interact or collaborate professionally. I met them in elevators, or the break area making coffee in the morning, or they just happened to grab a desk near the desk I happened to grab, myself. lol I don’t think this return to office foolishness is as “important” as it is being made out to be, frankly. I do get that businesses pay a lot for their brick and mortar spaces and would like to see those used in some way. Area small businesses used to serving the needs of busy people working in office spaces are no doubt hit hard by the prolonged lack of demand for their presence, due to empty offices, too. Those are clearly not adequate reason to return to the office, for most working people with a choice. Can’t say I blame them. Gas is costly, but it’s not about that element of commuting, really; people value having those precious hours of lifetime back for their own use. That’s just real.

Enough about why I wasn’t at home, and what purpose that serves (or doesn’t). I’m home now. 😀 Feels sooo good.

I woke once during the night. I think it was the quiet and comfortable stillness that woke me. I smiled to myself in the darkness, turned over, and returned to sleep. I woke gently, feeling calm and merry. I’m eager to get into the garden, but quickly discovered the morning is quite a chilly one, so… coffee and writing? Yes, please! 😀 Good to be home.

Dinner last night was kind of “more of the same” – fast food. It’s been days of it, but I was completely wiped out from the long trip back, so “easy” won the internal discussion over “what’s for dinner?” Looking over the pantry and contents of the fridge this morning, I definitely see myself going to the store today… no vegetables. Almost out of coffee beans. My Traveling Partner makes great iced tea, and there’s plenty, but no lemonade to mix into it, and I definitely enjoy iced tea with lemonade. I smile to myself, thinking “happy at home” thoughts.

It’s time to begin again. 😀 There’s an entire day ahead of me, and a lifetime of love.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being

That Uncomfortable Moment

May 6, 2022 //
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I woke in a sweat, uncomfortable and shaking, tearing my consciousness from a nightmare that I had gotten pregnant – at 60, post-menopause – and unable to terminate my terribly risky and thoroughly unwanted pregnancy because the law had changed, and my bodily autonomy as a human being was utterly lost. My heart was pounding. I paced restlessly for a moment or two, feeling vaguely unsettled and with a persistent “uncomfortable” feeling in my guts.

I laid back down, fighting sensations very much at odds with each other; the sweats and discomfort, the fatigue and sleepiness. I felt peculiarly averse to going back to sleep. I wasn’t exactly nauseous… but I felt suspiciously as if I might feel better if I got sick and got past it.

Predictably enough, I was quite sick moments later. Something I ate apparently did not agree with me. The stressful nightmare was likely a byproduct of the combination of physical and emotional discomfort – one from whatever I ate that did not agree with me, the other from the recently leaked not-quite-official-yet Supreme Court document regarding the likely end of Roe v Wade. My physical discomfort was greatly eased by vomiting. My emotional discomfort… well, it’s no surprise that it persists.

…Tell me again why someone besides me, myself, has anything to say about whether or not I carry a pregnancy to term? I’ve chosen to be childless. Period. Seriously. I did not want to be a mother. Why would my choice be out of my hands? When I hear people spouting bullshit talking points about the sacredness of life from the moment of conception, I reliably find myself wondering how they are so easily able to overlook the sacredness of the life of the pregnant person, herself? How do they justify what is fundamentally a position that states women should be coercively required – forced – to bear a child? Forced to bring a pregnancy to term that they do not want. Forced to endure a potentially life-threatening pregnancy for months. Forced, potentially, to go through all that and the trauma of giving up a child for adoption in order to avoid motherhood? How is that acceptable?

I hear a lot of religious arguments against abortion. My thoughts on that are basically… by all means, if your faith restricts you from terminating a pregnancy, definitely do not do that, then. I get it. Your religious freedoms absolutely permit that choice for you. My religious beliefs do not in any way restrict me from choosing to end a pregnancy. My religious freedoms should ensure that I continue to have access to a full measure of reproductive medical services – including abortion. I know, it probably sounds like I am taking this damned personally for a woman on the other side of menopause… doesn’t even affect me, directly, right? I am taking this personally. Having abortion available to me ensured I was able to choose to be childless by intent. My choice. I was able to graduate high school. I was able to join the Army once I did. Both of those would have been beyond my reach, without having been able to terminate a pregnancy while I was in high school. I had birth control measures available. I used them. My birth control failed – which is not uncommon. I was fortunate to live at a time when abortion was available to me, when I needed it.

I needed to get that off my mind. Thank you. If I’ve upset you, I regret the distress I’ve caused you. Not enough to change (or withhold) my thoughts on this topic, but it isn’t my intention to cause you suffering if we disagree.

…But… can anyone tell me why it seems acceptable to tell someone that they must be forced to bear a child against their will, or potentially under life-threatening circumstances? Why is the not-yet-viable-outside-the-womb fetus “life” worthy of respect and value – but the living breathing human person with that fetus in their body is less so? I don’t get it. Like it or not, that’s really what is being proposed; forcing people who do not want to bear a child to go through that process because someone else is not okay with an abortion that they have nothing to do with at all. Yes, I’m unreasonably angry about this, and taking it personally. It feels personal.

It’s late. My guts are no longer churned up. I’m no longer sweating. My breathing is relaxed and even. It’s quiet in these wee hours, and I am alone with my thoughts in the night. I’m okay, though. No despair. Just quiet. There’s no stress to these sleepless hours; tomorrow I return home to the welcoming embrace of my Traveling Partner. I’m definitely homesick. I’m eager to be at home all through the month of June.

A yawn unexpectedly splits my face. I’m tired and sleepy. Time to try that sleep thing, again. Tomorrow is a new day, and plenty soon enough for new beginnings. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Rape, Sleepless Nights, Spring, War and News of War, women
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