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Of Course It Did

January 13, 2023 //
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It’s evening. Quiet. Chill. My Traveling Partner is working on a project in another room. I’m listening to tunes and relaxing. Nothing much going on. The stress of the morning seems long ago. Distant emotionally. I’m okay. I knew then that I would be although I couldn’t really “feel it” in any sort of immediate way. It took a while.

Listen, this is not that unusual; it can take time to get past a difficult emotional moment. More so if you’ve got that feeling paired to some trauma in your past, or if you’re an “emotional wreck” still trying to sort out who you really are, or if you’ve survived some types of head trauma, or if you’re sick… we don’t all bounce back fast. We don’t all bounce back easily. That’s just real. Cut yourself (and each other) some slack. We’re human. Each having our own experience. It’s gotta at least be emotionally safe to be your own best friend, to “be there” for yourself. It has to be okay to give yourself time to course-correct, and get past that moment and on to the next. It’ll pass. Let it.

…If it’s “not you”? I still say it’ll pass. I still plead with you to let it. Just that. Yield to the passage of time and let your own bullshit – and theirs – go. Let it go. Breathe. Exhale. Relax.

Still sucks to deal with though, right? I know. Get used to that shit. Welcome to humanity. Welcome to adulthood. This journey is the most “important” one of your life… and there’s no fucking map. lol. I’d maybe be careful about calling any one point a destination, too. Easiest to let the journey be the destination, and accept that “the way out is through” – more often than not. Pick a theme song, turn that sucker up loud, and enjoy the ride.

Maybe have a cup of tea, and give yourself a break? Then begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter

My Results Vary – So Will Yours

January 13, 2023 //
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What an absolutely shit-tastic fucking morning. Maybe I get it back on track, maybe I don’t. Maybe I sort myself out and feel some amount of joy or enthusiasm for living, maybe I don’t. I’m not depressed, I’m just… an emotional trainwreck, this morning. Medicated? Yep – and there are reasons for that, and this morning the medication isn’t enough to overcome my bullshit and baggage. My results absolutely fucking vary. Sometimes I don’t “get it right” and I have to deal with whatever hurt or lack of courtesy I’ve delivered to some (probably) unsuspecting other human being (who may even matter to me)(probably) – and also deal with supporting myself, soothing myself, and managing my self-care. It blows.

…Then I deal with the pile-on bullshit of the aftermath, the feelings of inadequacy, guilt, shame, frustration, self-directed disappointment, the feeling of futility, the sense of “making no progress” and the potential descent into despair, because… “this?? again??” Also major suckage.

Here’s the thing, though, and I’m trying to hold on to it ferociously right now; I do deal with it. I do get past the moment. I do manage – again and again – to soothe myself, sort it out, and move on. It’s just not “easy”, and I’m “having a moment”… about having had a moment. So fucking annoying.

…This too will pass. Emotional weather means occasional storms and showers of tears. That’s just real – and very human.

I tried to go to work before I was quite ready, in spite of “where I was at”. I had to park the car and just let the tears fall. I couldn’t really drive. I for sure could not have worked. In an office. Around other people. (I’m 100% done with crying at my fucking desk during work hours. lol) So, I got that over with parked on a dark side street. Then I went on to the co-work space I’m presently working from (working from home is a bit too distracting right now, and sometimes very noisy with the new CNC machine) and got my day more or less started.

…Now I’ve got to begin again, properly. Be the woman I most want to be. Deal with people. Process tasks. Handle communications. Be present and engaged. It’s hard. It sounds like too much to ask. The morning started incredibly poorly and I’d honestly rather just “run away from home” and be literally anywhere else but trapped in my own experience of life and love and self. I’d rather be hiking a muddy forest trail, or a cold oceanside beach. I’d rather be sitting at a sidewalk café with an espresso drink and book. I’d rather be watching a high desert sunrise, or playing with a kitten. Hell, I’d rather be home alone doing the fucking dishes. Anything but being the woman I am, in this moment, living this life, feeling these feelings. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. I’m not a g’damned machine. Just a human being.

…I think about my assorted medications. Is there a pill to take for feeling miserable and emotional and filled with shards of chaos and damage? (No, no there is not. Bitch, pull yourself together. Fucking hell – it could be, and has been in the past, so much worse.)

I sigh out loud, drain my untouched cold cup of coffee impatiently. It’s time to begin again. Again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, winter

Shifting Perspective

January 12, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about a question. “How do I actually change my perspective?” The colleague who asked the question wasn’t being flippant or obtuse, and the context was work we were doing together. Sincere question. I was stalled for a moment, because for me the answer is ludicrously practical; make a literal change in the angle of view, or distance from which something is observed, or… I think you get it? Something as simple as standing on a chair to see something a different way, or looking out a different window to capture a different view… right?

Looking out one window of the office, onto a city I’ve known for 42 years.

We continued the conversation as we walked to the break area for coffee. We looked out other windows, still talking about how to shift perspective, metaphorically and for real.

Maybe it’s only been 22 years? Depends on what years “count”, doesn’t it?

Different window, different views… same city. So, different perspectives on this one place. Handy to have a real-life demonstration available. Lovely morning for it. We get pretty easily locked into a point of view, or some very specific limited understanding of the world or our circumstances based on our perspective. Being able to shift our perspective and “see things another way” really matters for things like communicating with others, being compassionate, and effective problem-solving that presents an inclusive solution to a problem that affects many different groups. We’re not a homogenous mass of flesh all of one mind; we’re individuals.

There are so many ways to look at something.

I sip my coffee and consider my perspective – then and now. Even those differences can provide new perspective. I certainly don’t see the world quite the same way I did when I was a woman in my 20s, 30s, or 40s. Time passed. I experienced more of what the world had to offer, and learned and grew through my experiences and decision-making. It doesn’t take standing on a chair, or looking out a 10th floor window, to take advantage of this mortal lifetime to reflect on changes in perspective. It’s hard not to change one’s perspective. How much effort do people have to put into to clinging to a poor understanding of an event, or a mistaken assumption, or limited perspective to “stand still” and “never change”?

It may be as easy as a chair or looking out a different window, or asking a new question of the person in the mirror. Change is. Our perspective easily shifts with our changes – if we allow it, and take notice. The trickier bit, I guess, is constructively changing our perspective to give us a “better angle of view” on something we don’t necessarily experience or understand from our own circumstances.

I think on it for a while, sipping my coffee on a rainy chilly winter morning. Would my thoughts be different on a summer day?

My eye falls on my to-do list. I smile; I’ve worked the list down to just one or two inconsequential tasks, and an errand. Not bad. It won’t stay that way; I’m always adding to it and working it. It’s just a list of reminders to change something. My coffee is cold now, and I could use a manicure. It’s far too early in the morning to get a manicure; it goes onto the list. That’s how it works. LOL

…I could use another cup of coffee. It must be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter

Timing & Velocity

January 11, 2023 //
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This morning’s commute was certainly… something. I left early and beat almost all the traffic. Easy commute, eh? Well… no. Life is still handing out lessons. LOL

I pulled into the drive-through of the local branded coffee vendor before heading out of town. Oh. Shit. I left enough earlier that they aren’t even open yet (although it must have been pretty close … all their lights were on, including the menu board). Okay, no problem, I head on up the road figuring I’d stop at the next one.

…Also closed. No problem…? I guess I’ll try the next one… I mean, there are various coffee places every couple of miles on this route – how hard can it be to get a cup of coffee on the way to work? 😀 It’ll continue to get later as I drive, so… sooner or later, everyone will be open, right? Right…

…Also closed…

…Also closed…

Fucking hell. I feel myself start to get frustrated as I try one more time (with a promise to myself to just give up on this bullshit and pour a cup at work)…

Coffee. Mmmmm. Finally. So good.

…the fuck is up with this parking lot flow, though? … g’damn… am I lost now?? For fucks sake.

…It takes me a minute to get turned around the correct direction in their weird parking lot (which is shared with two fast food places with interlaced drive-throughs)…

Finally heading up the road to the office. Traffic still pleasantly light, and I make good time getting to the city. The city is dark and quiet and I quickly get to my usual parking location. “Lot Full”. Are you kidding me?? I can’t tell from the signage if this is really the situation…or if they just “aren’t open yet”… I look behind me figuring I’ll back out and park elsewhere… but now there’s truck behind me, and a car behind him… fuuuuuuuuck.

…Eventually, we get it sorted out. One of the vehicles behind me pulls to the side (he clearly plans to wait for… something?), and the other backs out. I back out too. The other guy pulls back in next to the ticket machine, and starts his wait. lol I circle the block and go to the next closest parking lot near the office. It’s unfamiliar to me and I feel a bit “thrown off” by my crap-tacular timing this morning. It is what it is. Knowing my limitations as I do, I snap a picture of the location of my parked car, and another outside the door to the elevator – these will help me find my car when I inevitably forget (at the end of a busy work day) where the hell I parked.

I’m a block further from the office than usual, as I walk down the sidewalk. I’m not stressed about that – it’s just a few extra steps – but the morning has been a weird one so far. Still is. There is not a single soul visible anywhere (which is a bit strange even at this early hour). The city is spooky quiet, hushed, muted, and I feel apprehensively as if there are invisible watchers behind every window.

It’s fine. I’m fine. Just a weird morning. My timing is so far off it seems to color my entire experience.

As I walk past the entrance of my usual parking lot I see the vehicle door is now open. (Omfg… for real? I was basically 5 minutes early, and just too impatient to wait?? Fucking hell… This day, though.) I laugh at myself and keep on walking. (No, I am not going back to the car to repark it; that version of me doesn’t really exist now. Mostly.)

I badge into the office… and the elevator drops me on the wrong floor. 0_o

I forgot my half-finished coffee in the car.

I grab a can of iced coffee (“nitro cold brew”) from the break room refrigerator, set up my workstation…

…and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, winter

Why Not Now?

January 10, 2023 //
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It’s the 10th of January. Not fancy as days on a calendar go, nothing splendid like the first of a new year, still… a good a day as any to make a change for the better, isn’t it? There’s an entire day ahead, suitable for making changes. Pick something, do the thing, see the result, refine the practice, and repeat. Easy. 😉

I woke this morning from an interrupted night’s sleep. The artificial “sunrise” of my alarm seemed to come too soon, and too brightly (although I opened my eyes just as it came on, and it comes on quite dim, so… perception vs reality can be quite subjective). I had the sense that I’d been awake, or awakened, often during the night. I felt groggy as I rose, showered, and dressed. I made it out the door without waking my Traveling Partner, or so it seemed. I know he also had a restless night. He woke me twice to tell me he was sleeping poorly, and managed to keep me “on alert” (without intending to, I’m sure) by fussing and swearing in the other room because he was having a rough night. At some point he must have returned to bed, because that’s where he was when I woke, and seemed to be sound asleep. I found myself more pleased that he was sleeping than I had been annoyed to be awakened, myself, and grateful to get out the door quickly and quietly to head to the co-work space.

I love working from home. The practical reality of it is, though, that sometimes in the early morning hours when my partner would like to be sleeping it can be a poor fit. The local co-work space works as a pleasant compromise without the tedious, time-consuming, and risky commute into the city. That’d be a miserable way to spend 15 hours every week if I had to do it daily. I sip my coffee feeling fortunate to have so many options, and the freedom to choose from them. So, here I sit in an office, sipping coffee. I’d rather be home…but only if that reliably meant enjoying my morning over my coffee at home comfortably without stress or fussing over whatever, and dealing with stress because one or the other of us had a bad night. I like “easy”. Like… a lot.

I remove a couple paragraphs. I lost the thread of my thoughts. I sip my coffee thoughtfully.

Winter mornings are not well-suited to early morning camera walks. The sun rises so much later in the morning that it encroaches on the start of my typical work day. Instead of waking to the earliest hint of daybreak sometime around 04:30 or 05:00, I wake to my artificial sunrise well before dawn. With this in mind I’m thinking about making my everyday practice to head directly to the co-work space every morning that I don’t go into the city (not just Tuesdays and Thursdays), and just let that be what it is until the dawn comes earlier, allowing me to grab my camera and hit the trails around and about first thing, before work. Once the sun is rising around 06:30 or earlier once again, I can go back to my happy practice of hitting the trail first thing with my camera, then returning home to get my work day started there after I know my partner is awake. This works really well most of the year.

I reflect on how nice it is that we support each other with such care, generally. Seems nice. Oh, we do struggle and fuss at each other over some fairly petty bullshit. We’ve got communication challenges because cPTSD is messy and my TBI is… challenging. We’re human. I get irked with him. He gets irked with me. That’s just real. Frustration and bullshit and baggage are parts of the human experience. We’re pretty fucking human. Sometimes it is easier to love each other from a bit of a distance. LOL

This morning I miss him. I reflect more on what works than on what doesn’t. I’m grateful for the love we share. Could I do better? Yes. Could he? Yes. Do we both need more practice? Yup. I smile thinking of him fondly without overlooking the practical realities of loving him. Love doesn’t need me to tell myself pretty lies or to whitewash my lived experience. Love is no happily ever after fairytale. It’s also not a tragedy. Love is love. Part of living life. It’s complicated and messy and sometimes needs more from me than I feel I have to give. My results vary.

I just keep practicing.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter
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