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F* You In The Morning

March 25, 2026 //
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I’ll admit I didn’t expect to have love songs in my head this morning. I didn’t sleep well and my dreams were strange and disturbing. I woke up too early. I woke with a headache.

Trigger warning: emotions.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I dressed and noticed my Traveling Partner was already up. I managed to make a colossal mess of that, this morning, although I really tried to make a comfortable exit without causing any chaos or heartache. My excuse is that I wasn’t completely awake, yet. It’s not much of an excuse. I hurt his feelings terribly. That is the large and the small of it. By the time I reached the trailhead he had messaged me enough sincere and carefully worded “fuck yous” that what could have been a small misunderstanding between lovers resolved with patience and communication… wasn’t.

I walked the first half of my walk in tears, pretty much just hating humanity, the complexities of good communication, and wondering what the fuck love even means. I’ve still got a work day ahead. Looks like I’ll be starting the day wondering whether the love I think I share with my partner is real at all – which hurts so much I don’t have words, just more tears.

“Hurt people hurt people,” I whisper to myself through my tears, sitting here feeling foolish and exposed, by the side of a public trail. I’m embarrassed to have hurt my Traveling Partner’s feelings so badly, to the point that I feel hesitant to ever go back to my own house… which feels ridiculous when I see it in words. I feel hurt, myself. He managed to say some incredibly painful things, phrased for maximum damage. How do I measure the impact of emotional weapons? Shit can escalate so fast, out of some inocuous seeming moment, laying waste to to any feeling of emotional safety.

… When you hurt someone, apologize…

G’damn this sucks.

I sigh and try to regain lost perspective. I also stare into the face of my worst fear; that I will return home to find him gone, house emptied, our life together abruptly ended. The tears start all over again, but facing fears seems more effective than running from them.

My ears are ringing like crazy. My head aches, and my left arm feels numb. I’m annoyed by my perceived frailty right now, when I need my strength. I breathe, exhale, and… do my best to let this go. Emotions are fleeting. They don’t make a good substitute for thinking. I’m not having an easy time of it. I’m hurting right now. So is he, I’m sure.

I curse my first husband under my breath, and my father, too. The lessons learned in those traumatic relationships caused so much damage that I reliably face this sort of situation with real mortal terror, and actual fear of potentially deadly consequences. That seems so unfair to my Traveling Partner (and to me, now); he has demonstrated real love and kindness, without violence or mind games, and we’ve shared 16 amazing years together. My heart aches with confusion and uncertainty.

I sit with my tears, replaying every conversation over days and weeks like some sick game of “he loves me, he loves me not”, tearing my certainty of his love to shreds. I take a big breath of Spring air and blow it all out, watching my breath mingle with the fog. Chilly morning. I quietly chastise myself for being overly dramatic, for blowing things out of proportion, even for cowardice. That’s not really helpful, so I let that go too. I try to be a little kinder to the woman in the mirror; tears aren’t her best look, and she deserves better from me.

Fucking hell, I hope I’m not seeing the twilight of this relationship… that’s almost too painful to bear. That’s the big fear. I breathe, exhale, and relax. We’ve been through a lot in 16 years, this doesn’t seem likely to be the thing that ends a relationship like ours. Another breath, and I dry my tears, blow my nose, and notice daybreak has come. Coffee will be nice… This amount of emotion, stress, and drama is not sustainable…

Having a brain injury that results in difficulty controlling my emotions comes with some baggage. I do my best to keep things in perspective. I work to build and protect my emotional resilience. I seek to forgive easily, and to make room for the people I love to make mistakes and move on from those. I know I need that myself, far more often than I’d like.

I yield to the temptation to curse the new day; it’s off to a pretty bad start. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and begin again. I repeat the effort again. And again. As often as it takes to calm myself and face my fears – and my beloved – and begin the new day from a better place. Because moments are moments, and love is bigger than that.

My Traveling Partner sends me an apology for his harsh words. I send one back for my insensitivity and hurtful behavior. I look into the fog, seeing the trail ahead disappear into the mist. I can’t see where the path leads, but it is time to begin again. For real. I get to my feet and head for home.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Between Rain Storms

November 24, 2024 //
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I got home yesterday afternoon, a day early. My Traveling Partner needed me; the careful plans intended to support his care for a couple days unraveled, so of course I hastened home. I was definitely annoyed at the necessity, and actually angry about the cause, but I didn’t (and don’t) hold any of that against my partner. He still needs considerable care, although he’s making quite a lot of progress. It wasn’t any fault of his that the backup caregiving fell through.

As soon as I got home, I started completing tasks that should have been handled in my absence: bringing the trash cans back from the curb, picking up the mail, opening packages that had been delivered,  and preparing a hot meal. Simple stuff. Routine and necessary, basic adulting and household upkeep. I’m still aggravated that none of this was handled. On top of that, and an indication of the basic lack of consideration and manners involved more broadly, I haven’t heard a single word of apology (from my partner’s son) regarding the necessity of my early return home. I’m annoyed by that on a whole other level. I feel like I don’t personally ask much of my partner’s (adult) son, and the disrespect and lack of consideration is seriously bothering me.

I sigh to myself. I have better things to do with my time than be aggravated by his bullshit, as annoying as it is. The Anxious Adventurer will find his way in the world eventually. I’m definitely feeling pretty aggravated with him presently. I let it go, again; it’s not personal, he’s just got a lot to learn.

I started down the trail this morning happy to be home, in spite of the early return. I’d stay home for my solo time if that were presently feasible, but my Traveling Partner can’t easily go elsewhere, for now. If I need solitary time, I’ve got to go somewhere besides home. Oh, well, I’ve got my walks and a few hours on weekend mornings that I can call my own. It’s tempting to waste time wishing I weren’t in so much pain, but it’s not helpful to bother with wishes. lol I walk on, grateful to be walking. Grateful for a good life and a loving partner.

I’m stuck under the limited cover of some evergreen trees, and it’s raining again. I’ll wait it out and finish my walk. Daybreak is almost here, and I’ll enjoy finishing the walk as dawn becomes a new day. I’ve got a bit of shopping to do, getting things together for Thanksgiving, and an errand to run for my beloved, then home to catch up all the housekeeping before it’s time to begin a new work week. Too much of the burden of the day-to-day maintenance of the household falls to me these days, and I tire easily, but I have the experience to recognize the need, the will to get shit done, and the considerate nature to want to. So, I do. I don’t resent the effort, I just have limitations and also needs of my own. It’s frustrating when I just don’t have it in me to get it all done, and I reliably choose partner, hearth, and home, over my own needs when I begin to run out of energy. That has consequences, and I know it.

My beloved encourages me to care for myself, but there truly are non-negotiable tasks that must come first. When my partner has fully recovered, I know he’ll do his part and also “make it right” with me; he loves me, and that’s who he is. I know how frustrating it is that he can’t do more himself right now; some of what he’d be doing if he could, I’m simply less skilled at, though I do my best.

The one detail that does cause me some resentment, is having to do more work for a third person in the household, instead of enjoying less work because there’s a third person in the household. I breathe, exhale, and relax; no point holding on to that negativity. It’s a temporary situation, and the less help I get, the more temporary it’s likely to be. That’s just real. I think for a moment how often I ask myself “how can I be helpful right now?”, and wonder if it’s strange that I do?

I shake off my irritation again. I have other experiences to spend my time on. I don’t care to be mired in bullshit and drama. There’s too much to do, and a holiday ahead. There’s a break in the rain, and I get to my feet and stretch. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, autumn, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Do Not Disturb

September 24, 2024 //
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Well shit, yesterday went sideways abruptly after what had been a very pleasant day. Tempers and hurt feelings flared. Perspectives on individual experiences clashed. Unmet and unstated needs collided with the force only human emotions can create in such a short time. “Unpleasant” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I said things that were incredibly hurtful and will be difficult to apologize for adequately, if that’s even possible (and I am ashamed of having lost my temper so severely). He said some terrible things I can’t unhear. We hurt each other’s hearts – and the appalling thing about it is that we are each the person the other turns to for love, support, understanding, care, consideration… all the things. The person we hurt so deeply is our fucking partner.

… I didn’t sleep much last night…

Even after things calmed down and some sort of apologies were offered, the pain lingered. I went to bed unhappy. I don’t doubt he did as well. The house was quiet when I woke. My heart was heavy. Still is. Can we come back from this? Tears well up with the question every time it crosses my mind. I behaved appallingly.

I make my Traveling Partner’s morning coffee, put out a fresh glass of water, and a glass of iced tea, with a couple of fig bars to start his morning when he wakes. I hope he sees these things as the gesture of love I mean for them to be. I can’t imagine my life without him…

I’m not sure how we got to “this place”, and I sure don’t want to stay here. I remember a very different “us”, even quite recently (although it’s hard to stay mindful of how recent it was and that these changes are the result of injury, infirmity, and legitimate struggle, that truly will pass). I can do better. I’m confident he can too, and even that he means to. The medications he’s on make him more volatile and less clearheaded (no less so while he tapers off). The pain and fatigue I’m struggling with shorten my fuse and I rather stupidly try to avoid burdening him with information about my condition (that he actually needs to know to do his best to support me as much as he is able).

… I failed us both last night…

Fuck. The refrains of annoying 70’s break-up songs play on a loop in my thoughts. I snarl back at the unwelcome “programming”. I push them aside, because the feeling of hopeless and wistful futility that wells up is really terrible. I put on actual music (grateful for the technology that puts it within reach). The most positive thing I can think of for the circumstances… The Monkees, “A Little Bit You A Little Me”. Nailed it. I listen to Davy Jones singing words that remind me of my partner’s own pleas for me to “talk it out”. There’s wisdom there and hope. Don’t we deserve that for – and from – each other?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The path isn’t always smooth. I’m still glad we’re walking it together – I’d be pretty spectacularly lost without my Traveling Partner. I hope he still feels the same about me.

We’re in this together.

There are apologies and amends to make. Work to do, and to do better. My results clearly vary… And I need more practice to become the person I most want to be. I’ve got to begin again. I hope he’ll continue this journey with me.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, grief, health, loneliness, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5

Shards Scattered Everywhere

September 7, 2024 //
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Well, damn. That’s more than a little embarrassing…

Yesterday was quite a lovely day. I mean, it was definitely tending to be so, and I was relaxed and enjoying the day. Work was busy, complicated, and still quite fun. The day ended well, and I just had one errand to run to finish the week and call it the weekend. Easy. Routine.

… Right?.. Right?!..

It’s pretty easy to forget, when things are going well, that I do legitimately have some… “issues”. I start feeling as if I’m “past all that”. Feeling like my chaos is neatly tidied up, the damage repaired. “Nothing to see here.” It’s a pleasantly comfortable feeling, complacency, isn’t it? Which makes it all suck so much worse when shit goes sideways in some horrifically catastrophic feeling way that scatters shards of lingering trauma, broken bits of emotional baggage, and the wreckage of good intentions everywhere. It’s pretty horrible. The emotional damage done to loved ones dealing with it is embarrassing, inexcusable, and inflicts further trauma. It’s hard to make an adequate apology, making amends is even more difficult, and the fucking embarrassment, g’damn. The shame is a heavy burden to bear, and it can be complicated to prevent that from flaring up later as still more emotional bullshit. Fuuuuuuck.

So human.

Yesterday? Yesterday went sideways over a fucking product return. Yep. That was enough to push me entirely over the edge in actual seconds, and I may never truly understand why, let alone ever be able to explain it. It was bad. I lost my temper, my grip on reality, my ability to manage my emotions or even communicate clearly at all. My Traveling Partner was trying to help, but was immediately triggered, himself by my batshit-crazy bullshit, and wholly disadvantaged by also being medicated in a way that limited his ability to manage his own emotions or to support mine. It was (emotionally) messy. Ugly. Unpleasant. And it was over a fucking package. Over a moment of confusion and doubt regarding whether I understood which specific package it was and what return code belonged to it. Fucking stupid shit. Un-fucking-believable and a completely inexcusable overreaction to the circumstances.

No, apologies aren’t always adequate, which sucks. I still apologize. I’m still sincerely contrite and regretful. The damage is done and it may take time to rebuild a sense of emotional safety and trust. The whole messy business amounts to a powerful reminder regarding complacency. A reminder that mental illness is a real thing and the practices I practice to keep my shit together and foster mental and emotional wellness are not “a cure”. I still very much have to remain alert and self-aware.

…Well, shit…

I feel bad for the Anxious Adventurer. I wanted to set clearer expectations about my mental health and what challenges living in my home could present. My Traveling Partner shut that down, at the time. (I never asked why and don’t know.) What a shitty experience all around.

Here’s the thing though…

Waiting for the sun.

… Today is a new day. I can (and will) begin again. Yes, flare ups of mental illness suck. They’re scary and embarrassing. It’s horrible to understand how I have hurt those dear to me (and it doesn’t lessen the pain or the damage done that I’m talking about emotional violence not physical violence). I’ve still got to acknowledge the circumstances honestly. Reflect on things with calm self-awareness after the fact. Restore lost order. Make apologies and amends – and also move on and let it go.

Begin again.

It’s a new day. New challenges. New opportunities. A fresh set of moments, choices, and experiences. The day begins well, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for the sun. I started a new medication yesterday, intended to ease my occipital neuralgia and possibly reduce the pain of my cervicogenic headache. Will it be effective? Don’t know yet, but so far I am tolerating well, and it seems to have a pleasantly calming effect without knocking me out. In spite of numerous interruptions to my sleep last night, I slept well and deeply. The day begins well.

…I wonder where this path leads..?

Daybreak brings a new beginning.

Scattered plump raindrops greet me as I step onto the trail. I grab my rain poncho “just in case”. The trail stretches ahead, familiar, but also unknown; each new day is different.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to get to it. We’ve each got to walk our own mile. The trail isn’t always smooth, but the choices (and consequences) are my own. When I stumble, I know I can begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Forgiveness and Atonement

December 26, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my coffee “treat” this morning, enjoying the unusual flavor combination of a maple-sage cashew-milk latte. It’s very nice. Rich and velvety on my tongue, with the taste of sage and coffee hitting my senses first, and seeming quite festive, with the subtler notes of the maple and the cashew milk making me think twice about what it was I just tasted. Interesting. I don’t have lattes very often, and it’s a pleasant holiday treat.

This morning I am thinking about forgiveness and atonement. I’m thinking about forgiveness because I was once a 20-something woman of such ferocity and bitterness towards life that I commonly snarled (in response to any suggestion that some particularly heinous experiences in my life might warrant “forgiveness”) that “there are some sins even your god does not forgive”, before turning my back to walk away, radiating seething suppressed rage. I’m not sure I still stand in those same shoes, these days, nor do I feel at all certain that it’s a good place to be as an individual. On the other hand, there remains a certain someone who was once in my life of whom it is hard to hold any thought but “fuck that bitch”, with anger teetering on an urge for violence. Her narcissistic machinations left me damaged. Worse still, she hurt my Traveling Partner and did her damnedest to end his relationship with me. But… Holding on to that pain and impotent rage? That’s not at all who I want to be. So… as my Traveling Partner has suggested many times, I’m probably overdue to sort that shit out and move on. Forgiveness isn’t about her, it’s for me.

Atonement is something different. Atonement requires me to acknowledge the part I’ve played in some kind of wrong, and to do something to make it right. Acknowledgement. Contrition. Apology. Reparation. It’s the hard work of being real about being human. Big stuff and small stuff, we all fuck shit up. We all hurt people sometimes. Being a better human being than I was yesterday means coming to terms with the things I’ve done that hurt someone else or created real harm, and doing something to set things right.

…I see a lot of thoughtful self-reflection and contemplation coming my way…

What about when the forgiveness is self-forgiveness? What about when the wrongs were against myself – how do I atone for those hurts, too? How much of this is about me, and how much is in pursuit of healthier relationships and a better world, generally? (Does that matter, at all?)

I sip my delicious latte and think my thoughts. Soon it will be time to put some kind thinking into action. Then I’ll begin again.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, grief, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, War and News of War, Words
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