Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

The map is not the world. The plans I make are not the life I live. The calendar in front of me is more a… suggestion. I don’t tend to view it that way very often; my calendar seems so ‘real’ when I make plans. For example, today my calendar tells me that I’ve a date planned with my traveling partner, and that I am hanging out with friends tomorrow morning-ish, and grabbing lunch together. I am spending the weekend camping – my calendar says so, and I’ve the reservation number for my space and the address of the park right there in the event details. So… how is it that I’ve started today with this head cold that does not appear anywhere on my calendar, and is not accounted for in any of my planning? Seriously? It seems ages since I was last sick… why now?

I noticed my stuffy head when I woke up at 1 am, for no obvious reason. The room felt hot, and my mouth was very dry. At 3 am, I still hadn’t fallen back to sleep; my stuffy head was making me snore, and my own snoring was waking me every time I started to drift off. I got up and wandered around in the dark long enough to take preferred symptom-treating cold remedies, have a big class of water, and blow my nose. I slept some, woke again, slept a bit more, getting up for coffee at more or less my usual time…which I may not finish. I will probably go back to bed, whether I finish it or not. I make a point of putting boxes of tissues here and there, where they will be most convenient. I get all the cans of chicken soup from the pantry shelves, and stack them on the kitchen counter. I find the exertion tiring on a level that re-confirms that I am ill. Like a child or a puppy might, I sink to the floor where I am, there in the kitchen, ‘just for a minute’ because I feel woozy and weak for a moment; I doze off, head back against the cabinet door, feet stretched out, a bit like a rag doll left behind, forgotten. What a fragile vessel this is.

Camping will have to wait; being ill is best managed in comfort.

Camping will have to wait; being ill is best managed in comfort.

My snoring startled me awake, and I feel appreciative this time; had I slept in that position for any time, I’d likely h ave awakened with a crick in my neck that would have added additional pain to the experience of a common cold. lol I get off the floor. I take my coffee with me into the studio to cancel the camping reservation – someone else will want that great spot. It’s a good weekend for camping…or seemed so yesterday. Today I stare unenthusiastically out the window near my desk. I ache all over. I’m tired. I push through all that and message my partner; he’s not going to want to get sick, I’m pretty certain of that. I message my friends – I doubt they want to get sick either. My tinnitus is more engaging than birdsong this morning. My coffee seems flavorless, pointless, and uninteresting; I’ll make myself swallow it before I return to bed, to avoid the headache later if I don’t.

Why bother writing about being sick, though? We’ve all been there… It’s a thing we go through. Well… A.) Why not? B.) I started writing, so… I’m writing, and this is the experience I happen to be having.  And C.) It’s also a different experience of having a cold than used to be typical for me, which is unexpected. I don’t feel vaguely threatened, frightened of sleeping, vulnerable to attack, uneasy, anxious, or awash in wild uncontrolled emotions; these are experiences that once characterized being sick [for me]. I’m just sick with a head cold. Incremental change over time. Learning to take better care of the woman in the mirror, and this fragile vessel, making myself a high priority day-to-day, and treating myself generally well finds me defaulting to a very difference experience of being ill. No tantrums (so far). No inexplicable anxiety (so far). No giving in to poor self-care (so far). No lashing out unexpectedly at other people as if to blame them for the experience and inconvenience of being ill (so far). My health is better these days and improved overall self-care has resulted in many fewer experiences of being sick. I feel like crap today, and I’m irked to be faced with my weekend plans unraveling, but for now, I feel mostly pretty grown up about it. Nice change in experience.

I ache all over. Sitting up, writing, my head is less stuffy (oh, right – cold medication!)…but I ache, and sitting upright actually feels like… work. My coffee is cold enough to just drink, so I do. My head aches, and my ears are ringing (more than usual, some medications do that). I’ve no enthusiasm for birdsong this morning. Today is a good day to take better than usual care of this fragile vessel. I check the battery on my Kindle (although I know I am not actually going to read), and grab a box of tissues. Today I go back to bed; everything that isn’t taking care of me can wait, including camping, romantic evenings, and hanging out with friends.

Fatigue overtook me rather early yesterday, and unexpectedly. I didn’t think anything of it, and enjoyed a relaxed evening, and an early night. I woke around 2 am, feeling stuffy and too hot, although the apartment was a comfortable temperature. I woke again around 3 am, and again at 4:30 am, 5:30 am, 6:15 am… so it went, until I more or less got up for the day, sort of, around 8 am. The very human experience of being ill with assorted symptoms of gastrointestinal distress finds me feeling weak, out of sorts, tired, and that peculiar combination of being simultaneously hungry and averse to eating anything that so often accompanies this sort of illness. Blech. Being sick sucks. It will also pass. (My wiring being what it is, I find some solace in the humorous play on words involved in this particular sickness passing…)

I am sipping on this excellent cup of coffee very much aware that my enjoyment may be quite temporary… I try not to dwell on it, hoping to find that I am able to keep it down, and maybe have some food at some later point. Coffee is not the ideal choice nutritionally, of course, but the headache later if I don’t have at least some coffee now is a complication I’d like to avoid if I can. (This too fragile vessel protests my choice in the only fashion it can… I return to my writing afterward.)

I had plans for today… brunch with my traveling partner… laundry… housekeeping… gardening… yoga… cooking up a batch of chili in the slow cooker… beginning to empty my storage unit (the new place has sufficient storage room that I no longer need it)… but instead, today will be spent taking care of me, and treating this fragile vessel with some tenderness. I am already feeling inclined to return to bed, although I’ve been up only long enough to attempt morning coffee (unsuccessfully) and write these few words. My routines and practices are destroyed temporarily by illness. How very human. I find myself feeling very appreciative that I am not sick very often these days, and further… I am grateful my traveling partner isn’t staying here full-time right now, and is not at risk of picking this up from me, so long as I make a point of keeping my distance until it passes. (I start giggling – the joke just isn’t getting old…and the timing… oh yeah… I break from writing briefly with some urgency seemingly caused by laughing, and return afterward, symptoms eased for the moment.)

Frequent visitors to the feeders, now.

Frequent visitors to the feeders, now.

Today it’s cartoons, taking it easy, and making a point to drink plenty of water. No point taking illness at all personally, or allowing frustration to overtake me; I’ll be over this soon enough to get on with life. In the meantime, the red wing blackbirds have discovered the feeder at the edge of the patio, and South Park never gets old [for me]. It’s a Sunday, and even laundry can wait if it must (I find it a poor practice to handle all my clothes, or dishes, or touch all the cooking surfaces when I am sick). Today is a good day to slow things down, and take care of me.

What do you suppose is the ratio of positive to negative feedback you receive? How about the ratio of encouraging observations, versus critical observations? What about the number of compliments you receive, versus the number of insults or mean remarks? Or the ratio of kind and compassionate interactions versus the number of judgmental ones? Do you feel life’s stings and papercuts more often than love’s kisses? Is the result worthy of the enduring effort? Isn’t “love” an emotion produced by verbs (a whole lot of verbs!) (and chemistry) which results in more of all the good stuff, less of all the rotten bullshit human primates are capable of flinging at one another? So… what are you personally doing to improve the ratio in each and every relationship – or interaction?

Sometimes it’s hard not to just sort of stomp around feeling exceedingly criticized. There is an ever-loving fuck-ton of shit I do not do well, and I quickly find myself overloaded with a “self-improvement list” so long I end up wondering if my existence is holding back world progress. I’m also pretty good at some stuff; generally that seems much less relevant or noteworthy. (That observation gets a sentence now and then, the rest gets a fucking blog all its own.) I remind myself of two very important pieces of understanding that don’t change much, however ‘picked on by life’ I may be feeling:

  1. Criticism is basically just a very poorly worded request.
  2. Agreement #2 of the Four Agreements – Don’t Take Anything Personally

Generally, if I can hold those two understandings in mind when I am feeling particularly criticized and beginning to feel devalued or angry, I can more easily ask a very important question, “what is this person/situation really asking for (what is the unstated need), and how can I reply gently, while best meeting my needs over time?” Remember that bit about ‘an ever-loving fuck-ton of shit I do not do well’? Yep. Here we are; I need more practice. I’m struggling not to take things personally, today. I keep practicing.

To be fair, I woke from a troubled restless sleep this morning to immediate decision-making that went mildly awry. In the moments of disappointment that followed, the nightmare I’d had returned to my thoughts provoking painful emotions, a feeling of inadequacy and unworthiness, that seemed supported by the morning thus far. Not only that, I was in pain. I was in a lot of pain – still am – more so than usual. At this point, I’ve taken all the steps to manage it that I know, and I’m mildly sedated, which doesn’t really improve my experience in a wholesome way; it definitely slows my thinking and dulls my reactivity. I earnestly need to spend some time alone, and spend some time creatively. I’m struggling to figure that out – partly it’s the pain, but partly it is this peculiarly plaguing sense of feeling criticized, and the way that feeling sort of ‘weighs me down’ emotionally, and stifles me creatively. It was even hard to write this morning.

Today I am finding communication difficult. Simple answers to clear questions evade me. I struggle to make sense of the context of questions or observations, resulting in mystifying misunderstandings. Everything sounds too loud… I am tempted to wonder if that’s the pain, or the TBI, or… truth is, it doesn’t actually matter; what matters is learning to comfortably state the simple need in simple terms, gently, safely, as an honest request for support – and sometimes for change. Yeah, I’ll just go right ahead and add that to the very long list of ‘an ever-loving fuck-ton of shit I do not do well’ and I’ll get right on that, too, also, as soon as I can – that’s even sincerely meant. I literally do try my best to actually improve on each and every fucking minute detail of some weirdness or other that doesn’t fit my idea of comfortable emotionally safe socially productive interactions…every moment at risk of being so vigilant of my ‘failings’ that I end up feeling chronically self-conscious and anxious. It’s a delicate balance, and honestly – I mean to treat myself much better than I often do. I am only easily able to treat people dear to me as well as I treat myself… so… it matters greatly to ‘get all this right’. Yeah – that’s a ludicrously high standard to hold oneself, and it is a set up for failure, internal criticism backed up by acceptance of external criticism – real or imagined – with the painful outcome of anxiety, conflict, emotional self-harm, relationship sabotage… blech. Drama and bullshit.

I can do better. I do some days. Today is not a great day for me on a couple of levels. The pain and my sound sensitivity are physically difficult, and drive the emotional volatility and loss of balance. I can’t imagine ‘my happy place’ – and I’m standing in it.

Here’s the thing about improving my emotional ‘golden ratio’ though; it’s not actually about what I hear from other people, or how they see me, or the feedback they give me. It’s very much about whether or not I ‘drink the poison’. It’s about my own choices, and about how I feel about the woman in the mirror. If I am being that hard on me, it’s even more difficult to take care of me when someone else is hard on me, too, or I have to deal with a shitty day, or a lot of pain. There really are some great practices to fall back on. Meditation. Yep. Still works. It does work best to actually do it. Most practices work that way. Getting enough rest is a great practice – and I didn’t. So. Yeah. Mindfulness… ooh, I like that one so much (it’s so hard though…); it helps me stay aware of myself in this moment, and helps me be more compassionate with myself. I really am in that much pain – it makes sense to show myself some kindness. On and on I go. One practice, and then another. One moment to consider some observation that serves me well, or another: perspective, mindfulness, sufficiency, adequacy, worthiness, compassion… I keep at it.

I do hurt… and I’m okay right now.

Getting sufficient healthy rest remains an ongoing challenge for me. The connection between PTSD and sleep disturbances is well-documented, and most definitely part of my own experience. I’ve at least gotten to a point where being wakeful doesn’t cause me additional separate stress of its own to compound the stress of whatever woke me, or the impending potential stress of the fatigue that results from inadequate rest. Progress.

Last night I was awakened from a deep sound sleep sometime after 2 am. I didn’t bother to check the clock to verify it, my traveling partner told me the time when he woke me (not realizing the noisy new neighbors who woke him hadn’t yet woken me). I was awake, physically comfortable but sleepless, for the rest of the night. “Sleep maintenance insomnia” is what that one is. I feel a moment of irritation when I notice that the article I linked manages to ‘place blame’ for poor sleep almost entirely on the sleeper, pointing out problem scenarios like women trying to get more/better sleep by going to bed ‘too early’ and waking in the wee hours. Yes, good sleep hygiene and good sleep practices are important, and for some of us the thing goes a bit beyond our choice of sleep schedule, lighting, diet, or time management! LOL Nothing in the article directly addresses real-life externals like noisy neighbors, and the effect of being awakened in the wee hours to the irritation of someone else awakened by the noise. (Eventually, the noise would no doubt have awakened me in turn; it sounded rather as if they were tossing shipping crates against the shared wall at several points, or hosting an event in an octagon ring!) My sensitivity to, and concern over, my partner’s ability to get the rest he needs, himself, likely drove my sleeplessness in some small way. It doesn’t actually take much to disrupt my sleep, even now.

Two nights short on sleep so far this week. It isn’t ideal, and I don’t do my best work – or my best anything, really – when I am distracted and numbed by fatigue. I think ahead irritably to the boundary setting, expectation setting conversation that needs to happen later today. My neighbors are young, and on meeting them the other day they seemed well-intended sorts. It’s likely that the inconsiderate amount of noise is nothing more than that – inconsiderate. They may be unaware how noisy they are – although surely less so after my traveling partner was gruff with them during the night. Still, it mustn’t be allowed to pass unnoticed; what we tolerate, we must endure, and I’d honestly rather not have this go on for weeks. My thoughts turn next to the work day ahead. Yeah. Still feeling irritated. Is it going to be that day?

It's too early to be cross already. It is a better choice to begin again.

It’s too early to be cross already. It is a better choice to begin again.

I begin again. Meditation. Deep cleansing breaths. A moment of fresh air out on the patio before dawn, steaming mug of coffee in my hands. Full moon glowing beneath, between, behind the passing clouds for some little while longer before daybreak comes. I think about the patio roses and how lovely they look so far. I contemplate what the patio will look like when the roses are blooming. The studio feels cozy and warm after the morning chill outside. I take time to appreciate the full measure of the quality of my life here; there is so much more to it than a night or two of poor quality sleep. I make a point of lingering over ‘all the things that work’ – it’s a better way to begin my day than fussing about a handful of things that could be improved upon.

Today will be a very good day to take care of this fragile vessel, practicing the practices that support emotional balance, and over-all wellness. I will do my best. 🙂

I woke this morning from a deep sleep. It took me some seconds longer than is typical to understand the sound that woke me, to find the alarm clock by feel in the darkness, to understand that electric lights exist…and to wake up. I went to bed fairly early last night, unsure whether sleep would come easily, but very much aware that an investment in healthy rest and quality sleep would be needed after the interrupted night of poor quality sleep the night before. A leisurely fun evening of South Park, pizza, and good company provided quiet entertainment between the end of the work day, and my early bedtime, and I enjoyed it in the good company of my traveling partner. Good communication and self-care practices for the win, yesterday! I woke with some effort this morning, in good spirits, and well-rested.

The day-to-day investment in exceptional self-care matters a lot for my continued well-being. There are verbs involved, and continued practice. Yesterday, The Big 5 was relevant; I communicated my fatigue openly, considerate of the possibility he may have also been short-changed on sleep. He demonstrated consideration, respect, and compassion regarding my fatigue. I made choices regarding my self-care and the shared evening to come that leveraged respect for his time, consideration of his tastes and needs, expressing appreciation for his support. Our conversation set clear expectations, the support offered was reciprocal, and the affection demonstrated was unreserved and without conditions. We had a lovely evening together, and ended it pleasantly. I crashed out early, and got up early with the alarm clock. He was, I’m certain, up later – and at least so far, I have managed not to wake him prematurely this morning. 🙂

I have missed this day-to-day intimacy and his presence in my everyday experience. I enjoy living alone – I may even, perhaps, prefer it – but I have missed this man’s presence, his scent, his humor, his warmth, his good-natured concern that I treat myself sufficiently well, his support for my endeavors, his willingness to share his own with me, his strength, his vulnerability, his sense of honor and consideration. I have missed having love by my side in moments of ‘bad weather’ emotionally. I have missed having the chance to share the lovely ‘climate’ of my great wilderness within, as I have improved my quality of life, understanding and awareness of myself, and skill at enjoying this amazing journey. I am making a point, every day, of taking time to appreciate what I am enjoying now, that I have been missing, hoping to fill up on love’s delights and wonders while circumstances are such. I suspect I am a far better lover than I once was, and hope that this is true. I keep practicing. 🙂

Speak with love. Act with love. Be love.

Speak with love. Act with love. Be love.

Today is a good day for love, for loving, for all the verbs that doing so implies. There is surely ‘time enough for love’, but I don’t think there is sufficient time to waste on choosing not to.