Archives for posts with tag: childish tantrums

I may as well have ordered from a menu…”I’ll have the Random Emotional Overload, please – does that come with Feelings of Not Being Heard? I’d also like extra Not Well Understood, please. Can I have that with a side of Fail Sauce? There’s no Diary in that, is there? …Oh, Honey – you should try the Accusations and Dismissiveness, I hear that’s really exceptional here…”

Yesterday, I went, in mere seconds, from feeling content, comfortable, and enjoying quite a lovely day, to… something very different. The tiniest of difficulties with communicating a very simple idea (“yes and I am uncomfortable”, versus “No, because I am uncomfortable” – quite different concepts, truly) quickly became an embarrassing loss of emotional regulation on a level that is difficult to accept, explain, or excuse without some understanding of how a disinhibiting brain injury might complicate PTSD. It is what it is. I continue to do my best and work to grow and improve on what I can’t rely on without exerting will and continuous practice… It is what it is, and what it is just happens to be my experience, which sometimes sucks rather a lot.

I moved on, the evening unfolded, eventually I slept. The damage is done, of course. There are no ‘take backsies’, once I’ve hurt someone – they hurt. It’s the crumpled paper model of regret; the apology is necessary, and making amends is important, but the damage is done.

My head hurts today. I didn’t sleep well. Hormone Hell sucks like crazy, but it’s still 100% on me to do my best to be the best person I can be, moment to moment. It sucks that a few painful moments on a single day out of many can have the potential drive pain and stress into so many other potentially entirely unrelated moments even on entirely different days, but there it is. It’s one major reason why mindfulness matters so much, why I keep harping on being in this moment, and reminding myself that we are each having our own experience; there’s just no sharing some of it, and becoming mired in what sucks is so much easier than becoming wrapped in what is warm and lovely and good. Be. Here. Now.

This moment was lovely...

This moment was lovely…

Today is a good day for practicing practices. Today is a good day to be this amazing woman I am – challenges and all – and to continue to do my best, and to grow, and heal, and walk on, until I reach a new perspective. Today is a good day to embrace all the vast character and wonder of this creature I hold so tenderly in this broken vessel. Today is a good day to stand between myself, and the world, and be the person I can count on right now to care for me, reliably well, every day.  Today is a good day to make choices that meet my needs over time.

Sometimes it is the smallest details that teach me so much, and so often some choice that is a win, or generally awesome, comes with some interesting opportunities to lose balance, or lose my way. I didn’t last night, and I so easily could have. [envision me, high-fiving myself, here] New practices making a difference.

Under the right conditions, growth happens.

Under the right conditions, growth happens.

Changes, even good ones, can be disruptive for me. I have a frontal lobe brain injury that gets in my way a bit. I build a lot on a handful of habits that ensure I take care of me, and take care of what I am responsible for, and changes sometimes disrupt those habits, and my emotional balance. I won’t add ‘unexpectedly’ because although it once was, it no longer is; I know the risk is there, these days, and I watch for the effects in my experience that are the byproduct of change, and make time to shore up good practices, and get re-balanced. Moving my creative endeavors to the loft doesn’t just provide me with active studio space… it also resulted in the household media and networking infrastructure being in ‘my room’…in a place regularly occupied by someone not wishing to be disturbed, and it was easy for my partners to anticipate that might be inconvenient at some future point – though like a generous child I said “I will share with you!” not understanding that it would inevitably lead to discord. Rather than wait for all that, a wiser choice was made – one that changes my environment, and some small routines. (Oops…changes small routines? Right. I’m on it! Autopilot switched off, and I’m compassionate with myself as small changes swirl around me, probably over days or weeks, and when things settle down I will have new routines to rely on in that space. )

…It will probably be months before I feel like I know how to use the stereo again. lol

It’s a lovely morning. My traveling partner stayed up late with new – and moved – technology; it’s ‘his thing’, and although I expected him to sleep in, he is moving about the house restlessly – he is excited by change, stimulated, and enjoys the fun of it. My generally-at-home partner is readying herself for another work day, and these are not changes that result in turmoil for her. Life and love feel… pleasant. I enjoy this. I don’t need exotic destinations, expensive goods, or exciting tales of adventure to be content, to be happy, to be loved… or to enjoy a quiet morning. Sufficiency. I like ‘enough’.

It’s such a lovely quiet morning I am already well beyond any effect of poor sleep last night, although I didn’t really find good sleep until sometime past 1:29 am, the last time I looked at the clock. My coffee is tasty and hot, and although I am in pain I already know this is the least of it today; I take a moment to reflect on that, and enjoy how little pain I am in right now.

I’m hopeful that the small changes, the ripple effect of taking on the loft as studio space, don’t result in some shit-tastic childish tantrum on another day… so far so good.  I recently read some fairly eye-opening material on child development, discussing toddlers and tantrums. Apparently frontal lobe development and function is a big deal for emotional balance and control; my TBI [frontal lobe] is a big deal in the area of emotional balance and resilience. Yeah. Ahem. [awkward moment with myself reading that and reflecting on what life might be like for the partners of a 51-year-old some-time ‘toddler’ with PTSD… it does not sound like fun to me]. I find myself very grateful that love makes me desirable enough to tolerate my bullshit – and I hope I work through the worst of it in some more or less permanent way before they decide I’m not!

So…a lovely morning. A hot coffee. A good hair day. A day to remember to take the recycling to the curb – and hey; I remembered without a note! (I call that a success!) Some time hanging out with my loves before the work day. Today is a very good day for this to be enough. 🙂