Archives for posts with tag: brain injury

It feels like ages and ages since I’ve written a word. It’s a sensation more than it is fact; I wrote yesterday, in the morning, and of course professional discourse via email, and correspondence with people dear to me, and messages exchanged with my traveling partner – there’s been no shortage of words. I also feel very tired, waking to the alarm clock and struggling with the idea of wakefulness each morning for a couple of days, and falling asleep sooner and faster than is typical. I’ve been pushing myself through the week with coffee and insistence, but I am so tired… I’ve no idea why. There’s been quite a lot of illness in the office this past week; I suspect that I have been fighting it off, just with few obvious symptoms. Maybe the fatigue does not need an explanation?

What to do about tired? I’m home. The work week is behind me. I’ve no plans tonight. It’s tempting to just crash now, not quite 5 pm, and sleep until whenever I wake… breaking good self-care habits like regular sleep habits isn’t generally the best choice for me. (But I’m so tired…)

I realize at some point that I am ‘filling the space’ with stimuli, possibly a background effort to keep myself awake and alert. I turn off the music. I turn off extra household lights. I close my email. I set it all aside for a time. I breathe. Sure, I’m tired. I just breathe. It wouldn’t be odd to be a bit under the weather, it’s the time of year for it in the office. Another deep calming breath. I sit awhile, still, calm. Comfortable. Being. After a while, the stillness spreads through my awareness, a sort of ‘space between’ the sounds of distant traffic and nearby aquarium. I’m still tired, and I’m okay with that. It’ll be a gentle evening, spent quietly reading; the sooner I finish this book, the sooner I will read Soil-Man – a rare fiction treat I am eager to enjoy (again).

Sitting quietly becomes meditation. Meditation becomes yoga. I’m more comfortable now, and in less pain. I’m still tired. A cup of tea sounds nice, and maybe the warm of a fire in the fireplace…

It's a very nice evening to treat myself well.

It’s a very nice evening to treat myself well.

There is a weekend of verbs ahead of me. Tonight I’ll take care of me quite simply, enjoy a nice cup of chamomile tea and a good book. That’s enough. 🙂

The time comes when practices and tools and new skills aren’t just convenient, or a nice quality of life improvement, or appreciated growth and self-improvement; they aren’t about that, and never were. The time comes, sooner or later, almost inevitably, when practices, tools, and skills are what I am counting on to maintain not just balance, or contentment, or comfort dealing with others – they save me from myself, they put boundaries on a surreal recurring waking nightmare that is the result of my PTSD flaring up. Over time, when the time comes, they become something I can (hopefully) count on to give me a moment to change a reaction to a response, when my PTSD and my disinhibiting brain injury cross paths in a moment of stress.

The time will come…does come…when I will find myself facing me, facing a challenge – that much I know, from a lifetime of experience; “this too shall pass” applies equally to the moments of calm and joy, as it applies to the moments of panic, and terror.

These practices I write so much about, talk so much about, and frankly practice so much for many minutes of this finite mortal life are not just conveniences or cool things to do – they saved my life. This morning they proved their worth, and I proved that I am not wasting my time learning to practice the practices.

There’s not much more to say about this morning, in any specific way. I have PTSD. My symptoms are sometimes triggered by very specific domestic scenarios; one of the lasting effects of domestic violence decades ago (so don’t act violently toward people you say you love, okay?). I also have a brain injury that severely limits the ‘inhibiting’ and regulatory executive functions that most people can count on to avoid saying the wrong thing, or acting on impulse – or releasing the full visceral power of their emotional experience in the moment. This morning I found myself disadvantaged by those characteristics of my experience, and leaning heavily on new practices, new understandings of mind and practical emotional neuroscience, and the love and good-heartedness of my traveling partner, who handled things – and me – so tenderly. This morning, it was enough. (Huge win there, frankly.) The hours of study, meditation, practicing good self-care, more meditation, getting more exercise, taking better care of my physical health, and still more meditation, the hiking, the talk therapy, learning cognitive practices that improve implicit memory, more meditation still…and the miles and miles of walking, and being; every bit of it is worth the effort, the life-force spent, the time taken just to have it pay off this one time, this morning.

You know, it isn’t even about ‘proof of concept’ in any especially grown up way – it’s more like the scene in Harry Potter “Prisoner of Azkaban” when Harry realizes he can cast the Patronus charm – because he already had (nothing like time travel to get a leg up on the future, I guess…). I am hopeful I can go forward more easily able to take advantage of new practices to manage my PTSD and my TBI…because this morning, I did. Oh, wait…That’s exactly what ‘proof of concept’ actually is. LOL Go, Brain. Proof of concept…but ‘in a Harry Potter way’; I may never actually be a proper grown up. 🙂

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. <3 Detail of "Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. ❤
Detail of “Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

So…it’s another day to treat myself and others well, and a good day to stay aware of how easily a comfortable seeming recovery from a bad moment can go awry without continuing to practice the practices. Today is a good day for self-compassion, and acceptance that these are called ‘invisible injuries’ for a reason. Today is a good day to trust love. Today is a good day to enjoy a better outcome, and to say ‘thank you’ – because better outcomes are rarely a solo endeavor.

PTSD. This morning these are the most important 4 letters in the alphabet, for me.  They are not important individually, and they are not important for the words the initialism represents, at least, not right now. Right now they are only important because they name my experience and give me shared language to attempt to communicate with the world.

"Broken" 2012, detail

“Broken” 2012, detail

For now, I am calm, again. Things seem quiet. An eternity ago the morning started easily and beautifully. Something went very wrong. The brain injury complicates my experience. I’m so fatigued now, and my memory of what went wrong, exactly, and what set me off, and what exactly transpired between then, and some short time later (an hour almost exactly) is all pretty fuzzy and jumbled. Confused. A moment of irritability became ‘an episode’. I don’t actually know what that must be like from the outside…I can’t see me from that perspective. From the inside it is…frightening, actually terrifying, and the loss of control is…hard to describe. Lost in panic and terror, uninhibited aggression is a very real and imminent threat, and the awareness of that adds to my terror and panic. I do remember reaching again and again for mindfulness practices I am learning – this was their first real ‘test drive’ in my emotional ‘badlands’. I kept trying to breathe, to focus on that, to allow that moment of new breath to give me just a bit more control over my actions…no throwing things…breathe…no slamming things…breathe…no head slamming…breathe…no self harm… I achieved a personal best this morning. It wasn’t everything…I’m not strong enough yet, or skilled enough, or… perhaps just too broken. It was finally too much to manage and I was overcome, overwhelmed by chaos and damage. I remember feeling as if I were under attack, as if my life, my will, my liberty were threatened, as if my actual being were at risk of…not being. The world seemed to fall away and I remember crying out…pleading, I think, for help…or mercy.

I am fortunate, so very fortunate. I sit quietly here, soft jazz playing, tears still sliding down my face on and off as my emotions come and go, and my poor tired broken brain does its best to regulate things appropriately. My partner was with me, and he is more prepared than most people to support a partner with the issues I’ve got. “There for me” doesn’t even begin to describe it. He is the voice of reason calmly observing I’ve been triggered; before I realize myself that I’m going off the edge, he’s giving me something to grab onto for emotional leverage, for perspective. He’s the warm embrace comforting me, in spite of my behavior, and emotional state. He’s the thoughtful touches: the ready kleenex, the sympathy, the jazz playlist, the good listener, the wise storyteller. He gives me closeness, then space, as he watches me move through the badlands; helpless to share my experience, ever willing to share ours, and always doing his best to nurture me and helping heal my heart. I can’t ask for more – I doubt there is more to ask for.

My other partner woke later, the worst of it past. Less experienced, but all the love the world to build on, her first question was ‘what can I do to support you?’ with the firm commitment of a soldier on the battlefield, her will and her resolve available on request, without hesitation. I am fortunate to be so well-loved.

I know more about taking care of me, now. I’m taking that very seriously these days. So, today will be that – taking care of me. Recovering. Healing.

"Emotion and Reason" 2012 detail

“Emotion and Reason” 2012 detail

As days go, so far, today is neither here nor there, in the sense that I am calm, and feel balanced, and my emotions are just not stirred right now, one way or the other. The rainy morning pleases me, by wrapping me in a certain sentimental something that I feel on rainy days. I don’t know where it comes from. I feel it on rainy days. It’s not a good feeling or a bad feeling. It’s not an emotion I know how to name, but it is a comfortable fit, inasmuch as it feels very familiar and relaxed and centered.  It is an experience I enjoy, although I have never examined it very closely.  It was raining hard enough to decide to ride the bus to work. The rain spattering the bus windows, and the filtered gray light gave me a strange sense of emotional safety and this morning I had a Dave Matthews song stuck in my head, which sort of encouraged my thinking in the direction of mindfulness, emotions, and change.

I started thinking about ‘anger’. I regularly avoid the word, hoping to avoid the experience. I’ve had very bad experiences with anger, both other people’s anger and my own. I feel overwhelmed by anger, even to the point of frankly finding it hard to write about with candor. Fear of feeling it, fear of failing at it, fear of facing it, fear of being unable to contain it…anger is powerful stuff. I’d like to be more easily able to accept that I can and do feel angry sometimes, and just move on from it or let it go.  I’d also like to be able to observe someone else’s anger without taking it personally, feeling defensive or blamed, or feeling responsible for ‘fixing’ it. (Seeing it in text, I see that some of those are choices I can make, and other bits seem relevant to mindfulness practices I am cultivating.) I focused on ‘going easy on myself’ for past anger, so I could more easily examine anger in general. Big Anger associated with ancient hurts and long-carried baggage is a wound I know I’m not quite ready to tackle, but I got to wondering if every day anger could be ‘practiced’ for skill building so that I could be ready to tackle it some other time? So… I considered something small I was angry about recently that I didn’t act on or attempt to resolve at that time, and allowed myself to acknowledge and feel being angry about it.  Then one by one I put some of the specific mindfulness practices I am learning into action.  I didn’t make assumptions about whether any one thing would or would not work.  I just did steps, followed processes, pursued practices. I practiced. I practiced being angry without escalating. I practiced accepting the feeling of anger without acting out. I practiced allowing myself to ‘consider other sides’ of an issue in spite of an emotion of anger. I practiced letting anger go without compromising my values, or depriving myself of personal understanding or validation of my experience.  I repeated the exercise with a number of small things I was angry about in a small way.  I didn’t panic, have a fit, escalate, or feel hurt or damaged, and the anger itself didn’t do anything at all.  Actually – I still feel good; calm and balanced.  I even found myself understanding one or two small things differently, over which I had been harboring some resentment.  The anger really just evaporated when I gained a somewhat different understanding of the circumstances through calm consideration of what I did and did not know, instead of struggling with the anger itself.

Anger is nasty stuff. I’d like to master it. Looks like I would do well to really understand what I mean by that, too, because apparently ‘mastery’ of anger is not about ‘making it go away’.

Mindfulness and emotion is more intense than I expected and less scary than I feared.  Pleasant emotions, the ‘good stuff’, are actually very rich experiences, and I am learning to really savor them and take my time with life on a different level. Emotions that are often experienced as ‘bad’ or negative emotions are intense too, incredibly intense, and I am hoping to continue to learn not to be wounded by those experiences. I feel hopeful – and supported.  It is easier to write about some of these things than to talk about them in real life with people I love and make my life with – because the conversation itself is so personal, so emotional, and so ‘right now’, for  me; I easily lose sight of boundaries or limits.  I sometimes cry when I’m trying to talk about things that are emotional.  I’m learning to be ok with that, and to understand it more as an expression of intensity rather than an expression of a particular emotion.  Adjusting my understanding of that experience has seemed, so far, to result in fewer tears.  I wish I understood that.

So…Tuesday. It is a good one, so far. 😀

Welcome to Monday. A good one so far, and I’m glad for it. I thought thoughts walking in to work, and some of them may have been profound, possibly share worthy, but by the time I got to work there were really only two things, distilled from almost an hour of walking meditations, that I still wanted to share:

1. It was an overall good weekend – except for the sucker punch my brain delivered to my heart, soul and experience on Sunday morning. Wow. Lethal. I am more thankful than words can express that I have partners with the will and ability to ‘be there for me’ as much as they are, as often as they are, and considering how easily I can, and how often I have, hurt them. I am also extremely appreciative, this morning, that I am alive today – funny thing to say, perhaps, but if you could know the experiences I have already survived across 49 years, it would seem less surprising that I might feel so grateful that existence – mine – continues today. 😀  It is certainly something to cherish, celebrate, and enjoy – even the difficult bits.  So that’s one thing to share.

2. A metaphor… I love music. I started thinking about life and music… and I got this.  There is more than one sort of musician. A skilled studio musician may be a virtuoso with an instrument, or style, well-versed in technique, reading music, bringing ‘a sound’ – and creates music with those tools and skills, but perhaps doesn’t compose or create.  A DJ makes music too – using other people’s music, samples, their own creativity at mixing, bringing elements of varied styles together to create a sound, but perhaps doesn’t have the technical expertise about music theory that might be expected or found more commonly among very technically proficient musicians, or virtuosi.  There are also ‘rock stars’ – gifted performers, composers, musicians – beings of amazing style and ability to capture or drive the zeitgeist, to influence or herald social and cultural change, and I’m sure we’ve all noticed they are not always exceptional or gifted musicians.  In life – which of these am I, I wondered? I realized pretty quickly that although there are qualities of each of these I would very much like to embody, I am probably that guy in his garage with a beat up instrument he got cheap in a pawn shop, who hears music in his head, loves to listen to his favorite tracks and sings along with all his favorite songs… and can’t read a note, and barely picks out a modestly recognizable rendition of the guitar riff from ‘Smoke on the Water’, slowly. That’s not a good or bad thing… but it is sure important to know that about oneself. 🙂  If that guy sticks with it, learns some basics, and figures out what he really wants out of music (life), and applies himself to achieving those goals, he’ll probably get somewhere worth going… on the other hand… if he struts around like a rock star, telling his friends he’s awesome, and showing off what he doesn’t understand… well… I know that guy. You probably know that guy. In life and love, I think I am that guy… and I have a choice to make. I choose to be a humble and honest student of life and love… there’s plenty to learn.   (Thanks, Brain, this one almost makes up for your shenanigans yesterday.)

…and now back to our usual Monday line up… 😉