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AITA?

November 10, 2023 //
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Probably. I’m for sure depressed, which is tending to make me definitely more an asshole than a sweet-tempered, good-hearted, kind and empathetic human being looking out for others and being considerate moment-to-moment. I do wish I’d recognized that I had become depressed before I had become an asshole. My results most definitely vary. The tools in my toolkit feel inadequate. This bit of emotional weather is rough. Stormy. Gray skies. Rain. It’s nasty.

I’m fortunate to have my Traveling Partner by my side, although I don’t like being yelled at over being an asshole. Once the conversation eventually got around to the whys and the wherefores, and recognition of my depression developed, for me and for him, we at least found some kind of equilibrium – a point of understanding to work from constructively. Helpful. Still unpleasant.

What I’m saying is this is a very human experience. I’m as human as anyone. The chaos and damage have won this round, but I’m still in the ring, still getting back up to go another round. Fuck depression. Fuck anxiety too. Fuck nightmares. Fuck sorrow and grief. Fuck trauma and lingering damage. All of this terrible shit is also so endlessly human. Will I be okay? Hell, I’m mostly okay now – I’m just struggling with a tremendous lot of “second arrow” suffering and yes, mental illness.

I breathe, relax. Drink water. Take my meds. Begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, grief, Hormone Hell, loneliness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, turning 60, War and News of War

Winging It

November 8, 2023 //
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I had planned to work from home today. I woke in such a completely offensive bad mood I couldn’t stick with that plan without willfully (and inconsiderately) exposing my Traveling Partner to my unpleasant state of mind. It made sense to take advantage of a commute to the city to (try to) sort myself out, and work in the office instead of dragging my shitty attitude around the house all day. I’m probably fortunate that the day is off to a relatively good start in spite of my nasty mood and this headache… I sip my coffee, already lukewarm and uninteresting, and let time pass without being too invested in what follows any given minute.

I woke early, although I had set my alarm a bit later than usual, figuring on the work-from-home thing, and planning to take a pleasant early morning walk, but when I woke it was from a bad dream, and as I said, I was in a foul mood (maybe because of the dream, maybe because my partner woke me early for some reason, maybe because headaches suck…? Does it matter at all?). It didn’t make sense to stick with a plan that had been made from a very different cognitive and emotional place.

Daybreak catches up with me at the office. I have a sense of time passing, moment by moment, and I sort of wish I’d stayed home, after all, but omg I am in such a shitty mood… I can’t see inflicting that on anyone else (especially not my beloved), and I’m alone here in the office until much later in the day, on a typical Wednesday. I sip my coffee. Drink some water. Remind myself to stay on top of my medication – pausing for a brief moment of irritation that that’s a thing I need to remind myself about at all. I snarl to myself about aging and how much that sucks.

My Traveling Partner was super chill about my last-minute fairly spontaneous pivot to working from the office today. (He made a point of saying he’d miss me…but I suspect if he knew the mood I’m in, that might not be the case. lol) I hope he has a pleasant day, relaxed and fun, doing whatever he likes; the whole point of getting the hell out of there before anything could go sideways was specifically to do what little I could in the moment to secure a pleasant day for us both. Or at least for him. I sigh outloud in this big quiet space. My back aches. My head aches. My sinuses are kind of stuffy. I’m cranky.

…Oh, hell… am I coming down with a cold or something…? I sure hope not, I’ve got shit to do…

I recall that I committed to taking out the recycling last night, and also to do the dishes today… but now I’m not there, and I find myself vexed by the whole mess far more than is necessary, or reasonable. I’m aggravated on a whole other level. Should I have paused to do those things before I left the house? Could I have done so without erupting in misdirected rage over… nothing? Could I have done so without making an infernal racket inappropriate to the early hour? I seethe over it for some minutes, not because it’s an appropriate response, or because it’s helpful, it’s just where my head is, this morning. I’m cross. I’m annoyed with shit. I’m… an unpleasant and unapproachable version of myself. At least for the moment.

I seek a distraction from my negative thinking. I think about my Traveling Partner, and the latest super cute prints from the new 3D printers – an adorable squad of Pikachu. He’d said something earlier about planning to give one of them to me (for my desktop “menagerie” of things). The thought delights me as much now as when he mentioned it earlier, and for a moment I’m smiling.

…I’ve still got this headache, though, and I’m still feeling super bitchy…

I fucking hate nightmares and feel about the same toward headaches. I sigh again, and sip my coffee, feeling that “it’s all rather pointless” – but without knowing what I mean by that. The bad mood? The pain I’m in? The gray skies beyond these windows? The work day ahead of me? My lingering recollection of my bad dream? I feel bleak, bitter, cynical, vexed, and disappointed with humanity. G’damn. lol It’s much.

…Perhaps a fresh (better) cup of coffee will improve my mood…?

Well, regardless what else I decide to do, I clearly need to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, health, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Waking Up in a Strange Place

November 7, 2023 //
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This morning I woke just ahead of my alarm. I’m okay with that, the timing was right. I woke drenched in anxiety and doubt, though, which isn’t common these days and it’s really thrown me off this morning. The very excellent commute into the office? Mostly characterized by intense anxiety and fearfulness in spite of being both quite routine, and also a smooth and easy commute with little traffic. It makes no sense. I woke with acid reflux, too; maybe the emotions follow the physical malady? Maybe they cause it. I don’t know. I know that I feel… tense. Alert for the next thing to go wrong (though there hasn’t been a first thing, so far today or even this week).

…Fuck anxiety…

Work is good…so… it doesn’t seem likely that it’s “a work thing”. I’ve got a good thing going with my Traveling Partner, and things seem to be good with him… so… unlikely to be anything to do with him, or with “us”. This feeling is more a loose sense of persistent dread that isn’t attached to anything particular, but lingers in the background filling my guts with churning and knots, amplifying my pain, and spiking every thought with doubt and worry. It’s an unpleasant and uncomfortable state of being, and although I tell myself it will pass (and feel certain that is true), it’s where I find myself this morning and I must say I don’t much care for it at all.

…This sensation is sometimes the result of forgetting something incredibly important that I can’t put my finger on, but on this, too, I come up empty handed when I scrounge around in my consciousness and my notes for something it could be…

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

I sip my almost-cold coffee thoughtfully. I take a deep breath, exhale, and will my shoulders to relax, feeling the sensation spread, breath after breath. It helps. I let myself acknowledge that “I’ve got a lot going on”, and then also admit to myself that a similar amount of “stuff” might not feel so weighty under other circumstances. I also consider what it can teach me that the stress feels most closely associated with things I am doing – or want to do – “for me”: a manicure I started and didn’t finish, a book I’m almost through and haven’t finished, the holiday cards for the year, holiday items I may want to 3D print (which requires learning to use the new printer), make more shower fizzies, and something or another that I feel certain I’ve forgotten. When I list them in my head my anxiety goes nuts. It seems like too much. (“For real?” I snarl resentfully at myself, in my head.) It doesn’t seem at all fair that things I enjoy doing, that are in some cases legitimately self-care (and in others just things I very much enjoy) would cause me this kind of anxiety. Or… is it just the willful choice to do things for me that’s setting off my anxiety? That’s a concern I live with. It’s entirely internal, and has its source in that mightiest of anxiety well-springs – trauma and ancient pain.

A small sad voice in my head suggests “there just isn’t enough time for everything”, but this is another illusion. Anxiety is a liar. Yes, there’s finite lifetime, but there are many choices and opportunities, and time enough generally when I choose wisely. I take another breath, and another sip of coffee and watch day breaking beyond the windows of the office. I think about what matters most, and what I want out of the day (and the week, and the upcoming 3-day weekend). I think about paintings yet unpainted… and the passage of time. I notice my anxiety but also try to step back from the visceral feeling and in order to simply observe it.

…Damn, I’m in a lot of pain today…

Could the pain I’m in be enough to trigger this level of anxiety? Sure, it could. Does. Has in the past. I pause to take steps to manage my pain, and set the anxiety aside to re-evaluate later (to check whether or not it has changed after doing something about the pain I’m in). It makes some sense; my sleep was restless and disturbed by uneasy, anxious dreams – and I went to bed in pain, and woke with it at least once. It’s that time of year; the variable weather, the chilly nights, the return of the rain, and the dampness are all qualities that seem to be associated with more than usual pain (for me). So. I try to just let it go. It’s a thing. It’ll pass.

Fuck anxiety, though.

I’ll have to begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, health, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, War and News of War

Joys and Pains

November 1, 2023 //
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It’s a lovely quiet evening. I’m relaxing, listening to the sound of rain. It is actually raining, but I can’t hear that; the house is a pretty quiet one. I’ve got a video on that is also raining. It’s a nice backdrop to a few quiet minutes. I’m enjoying the satisfaction of a work day well-spent and feeling wholly appreciated. It’s lovely. I worked from home, too. All around a first-rate day.

…Later I’ll finish reading Lord of the Rings (well, the first of three volumes), but for now, this is enough…

My Traveling Partner is in the other room. He and his son and their online friends are louder than usual. He attributes it to good sound quality and someone with a boomy voice. I didn’t argue; from my vantage point, they are loud compared to usual. It’s a “joyful noise”, though, and I am not disturbed by it. They’re having a good time. I’m having a good time. It’s a good time.

…I’m well-aware there is much horror, violence, and conflict in the world, but my sanity quickly breaks down if that’s the entirety of my focus…

I think about things. I think about projects for the holidays that seem to be distant on the calendar, but feel imminent in my sense of things. The “crafter’s CNC machine” in the studio, waiting for my attention is also in my thoughts, as is the written and video content I’ve queued up for additional study. Yes, for me it takes rather a lot of reading, study, practice, reinforcement, failures and re-attempts to learn new complex tasks to get myself to a point where I feel confident and more assured of reasonable successes than likely failures. That’s just real. I don’t weep over it often these days, I just seek to account for it and do the needful. I think about love – and being asked to fold 4 dry towels in the middle of a busy work day by a partner who is… not working at the time he made the request. lol I think about the 3 loads of my own laundry that I’ve continued to not fold for something like… 3 weeks now? 4? I just keep wearing what I like, putting it back through the laundry and dropping it back on the stack of clothes. It’s fucking dumb, and I don’t know why I’m stalled on that, but totally willing to do the very same task for my Traveling Partner when he asks. It’s a bit of weirdness, and I’m familiar with it. I’ve “been here before”, and there’s a real chance it’s a “canary” of heightened background stress not being adequately dealt with in some way.

I sigh contentedly. In this pleasant, quiet moment, it’s easy to forget all about whatever the fuck is up with me in some seemingly abstract way. I know better than to avoid it indefinitely, but I don’t at all feel like dealing with it now. It’s nothing I can do much about… the world, warfare, the violence of angry strangers in places that are not here, now. It all weighs on me. I breathe, and let it go. Again. I listen to the rain, sip my icy cold glass of clear, clean, potable water and make a point of feeling grateful to be in this place, in this time.

I’m also in pain. It’s just physical pain. It’s my arthritis, and it’s Autumn, and rainy, and chilly, and none of this is unexpected or even new, and as much as I want to be annoyed and snarl about how much worse it seems… even that is purely perspective. It’s not as bad in hotter, dryer months, and the change of the seasons brings things round again to the season of pain. So, okay. I’m in pain. I’m not alone in that. I hurt. So do a lot of other people, some of whom have no means of finding any relief at all. So… more gratitude. More appreciation for how much worse it truly could be. I’ve been there, too. I’m not there now. This is better and that’s something worth feeling grateful for. My head aches. My neck aches. Those things are likely related to each other. Still, it could be so much worse. Yes, I’d like it to be better… but… I don’t think making a big deal out of it day after day after day will do much to improve the situation. Hell, I regret this bit of generally harmless grousing about it. I’m only saying it “out loud” because it is so very commonplace, and I guess I need that reminder.

Did I mention what a lovely quiet evening this is? I sit with that awhile.

…Then I begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Legendary Tales and Coffee with Cream

October 22, 2023 //
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I slept in rather late this morning. I’m having my second coffee in the afternoon, and enjoying it with a bit of brown sugar and a splash of heavy cream (on hand because I’m making corn chowder for our Sunday dinner, later). I stayed up rather later than usual, last night, reading The Fellowship of the Ring and enjoying it mightily. I slept in, sure, waking up almost two hours later than I usually might, then lazing in bed far longer, reading while my Traveling Partner slept in, himself. It was lovely.

More recently, I did a bit of laundry, made a trip to the grocer for ingredients for dinner (including that pint of cream), had a lovely hot shower and did some yoga. Beyond all that, it’s been quite a relaxed day. I’ve luxuriated in simple things, and enjoyed the companionship of my partner. Nothing fancy, only… right now there are many many people in the world beyond these suburban walls who lack even the simplest of conveniences or pleasures. Not only do they not have an emotionally safe relationship in which to thrive, they lack a good book to read, a safe place to read it, or even clean water in which to bath, or to drink. Coffee with cream and sugar? Out of reach for so many people. I sip my coffee grateful for my good-fortune and good life. There were verbs involved in getting here… a lot of complicated choices… but here I am.

…I’m not wealthy. (I don’t yearn for wealth.) I’m not renowned, powerful, or influential. (I don’t seek those elusive burdens.) I’m not surrounded by a crowd of people on the daily. (I’m okay with that; I value my limited solitude, and enjoy my friends and family when we are together.) I don’t have a lofty job title with which to impress. (I don’t seek one; it’s enough to have purpose, to feel appreciated, and to be compensated fairly.) I’m just this one woman, doing my best, and enjoying what is simultaneously a rather ordinary and also extraordinarily fortunate life, rich in experience. Do I have “everything I ever wanted”? Nope. Not achievable; my imagination is vast, but my needs are relatively few. I’m satisfied to pursue contentment. Do I have what I need? That and beyond. It’s a pretty good life. I’ve got a home, a vehicle, a loving partnership, a well-stocked pantry, adequate clothing, modern conveniences… and an understanding of how fleeting all of this may be. I’ll make a point to enjoy and appreciate it while I can. There’s no knowing what the future may truly hold. I guess I’ll see that when I get there. For now… this is my experience. It’s a good one, these days, which is very much worth taking note of.

…When things are good, there’s enormous value in 1. recognizing that and 2. enjoying it.

I sip my coffee, wrapped in contentment and delight. It’s rich and creamy, and warm, with notes of caramel, chocolate, and raisin. Delicious. Oh, make no mistake; brown sugar and heavy cream in hot strongly brewed coffee made from good quality freshly ground beans is my absolute favorite way to drink coffee. It could even be said that this is one of my most favorite single experiences in life… this flavor, this feeling… lovely. I rarely drink my coffee this way, these days. It’s generally black, hot or iced. No frills. Refreshing more than “delicious”. I’ve got my reasons. The turn of the seasons brings my thoughts to the holidays to come, though, and with those thoughts, the yearning for luxuriousness and deliciousness and sensory treats like cream in my coffee and quiet hours with a good book. 🙂 So human. I embrace and enjoy the moment; it’s part of my idea of “enjoying the holiday season”. I don’t care much that I’m a bit early; the Autumn leaves don’t follow the calendar very closely either.

…It’s not too early to begin preparing for the holidays. There are holiday cards to design and to make, and a Yule pudding to mix and steam and begin basting with brandy or Cointreau (I haven’t even picked a recipe yet!), a gift for my Traveling Partner to consider, and for my step-son… there’s a holiday basket to create for dear friends celebrating together elsewhere… and… probably a ton of stuff I’m overlooking that wants doing well in advance of any holiday marked on the calendar. 😀 Time to get started!

On a quiet Autumn Sunday over a good cup of coffee, I’m ready to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War
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