Archives for posts with tag: Despair
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One Day of Many

July 9, 2026 //
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I have a splitting headache and my sleep was interrupted. I’m tired and cross, and feeling very much that I’d like to be left alone. I’m grateful for these few moments of solitude in the morning.

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

I’m sitting at the edge of this trail wondering. I take a welcome sip of the coffee I carried down the trail with me. The morning feels chilly. It’s probably me, not the weather. The coffee is warm in my mouth and down my throat. I’m grateful for the moment of self-consideration that directed my groggy decision making this morning. Coffee sooner was a good choice this morning.

Tears fill my eyes and threaten to spill over. I brush them away angrily. “I don’t have time for this weak ass shit this morning,” I snarl to myself softly, “and fuck this headache, too.” My tinnitus is loud in my ears. I didn’t get enough restful sleep (haven’t for days) and my thought processes are slowed way down. My pain is poorly managed. I’m feeling very human and very fragile. My eyes sting from tears that finally begin to fall. Too much? Not enough? I feel broken and out of alignment. Out of step. Faltering on a path that has seemed certain and clear on other days.

… Moments pass…

I’m finding little reassurance in aphorisms and platitudes this morning. This morning I am uncomfortable with uncertainty and impermanence, and I feel myself clinging. Wanting certainty so much. Yeah… good luck with that shit. I take a deep breath in, and as I exhale I find myself weeping. Just fucking crying by the side of this trail, sitting in the summer sunshine on some random Thursday morning. Wondering.

…Is the sky still blue…?

I begin again. Breathe, exhale, relax. I shift gears. Meditation. Failure. Breathe. Repeat. The morning is not off to an ideal beginning. I’m struggling with my demons, and although for the moment I’ve got some sort of tearful stalemate, I still feel pretty shitty. My pain meds begin to kick in. So does the coffee. Eventually, I’ll “mask up” – put my work face on – and begin the work day. I don’t know, maybe the utterly disappointing ordinariness of it all will anchor me to here, now, and I’ll feel less hopeless.

… The clock is ticking…

The sunshine in the oak trees is beautiful. The air smells sweet. Songbirds sing merry songs. The tidy vineyard rows are a playground for so many little birds. I watch them flitting about, and try to identify as many as I recognize, but don’t put much effort into it. I am distracted and preoccupied. I keep letting this shit go. I breathe, exhale, and relax… and find myself back in the mire again and again.

I sigh out loud, frustrated with myself and the shitty start to the day. (And also? Fuck this headache.) I watch the dawn become day. Sooner or later, I’ve got to begin again… only I don’t know where this path leads, and I lack enthusiasm for walking it.

…

…

… This too will pass. Everything does. Change is.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Riding the Wave

April 15, 2025 //
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I had a moment yesterday. Feelings of loneliness and despair began to well up seemingly out of “nowhere”. It wasn’t “nowhere”, of course, these are troubling, baffling times for ethical compassionate people who want (and work) to see good in the world. I took a moment to shed some private tears and regain my balance, to self-soothe, and step back from thoughts of things I can’t influence directly or change in any practical immediate way.

“Breathe, exhale, relax.” I reminded myself. It helped and the evening moved on.

There’s still blue sky overhead.

If you’re hurting and struggling with the strange terrible times we’re in, you’re not alone, I promise you. Be kind. Be considerate. Be your best self in spite of seeming to be surrounded by a world of monsters. Look with scorn on terrible people, but don’t let them transform you. Don’t become the thing you find detestable. Don’t let the bad acts and cruelty of the world make you cruel, yourself. Resist the poor choices your own anger and fear nudge you towards and stand firm on your resolve and your convictions. Be the person you most want to be, not whatever facsimile of humanity it may seem that you are expected or encouraged to become by circumstances, systems, or corrupt individuals. Be honest. Be real. Speak truth to power. Make the wisest choices you can for the greatest good within your family, tribe, and community. Be the change you wish to see in the world. It’s not a platitude if you make it real in your own experience.

Remember that the goblin king has no power over you. He is a farce. He is a fiction. Make your own choices. Use your own words. Be the main character in your story, instead of an NPC in the game of life.

It’s a new day. A new beginning.

This morning I watch the sunrise. I listen to birds singing cheerily along the trail. No tears. I am okay right now. Sometimes shit gets hard because I actually do care, and all by itself that can be a hell of a burden to bear. It’s an interesting path I’ve chosen in life, and it isn’t paved, and I don’t have a map. Sometimes the going is easy, sometimes it is difficult. Regardless, it is a worthy journey of being and becoming, and I walk on.

I sigh quietly as I walk. Trolls and monsters and lines on maps – it’s a strange and sometimes scary world, but the journey is the destination and it isn’t really “about” any of that. Those are worldly distractions. I remind myself to be present, here, now. To be kind. To be the woman I most want to be. To make wise choices. To listen well and deeply, and to love with my whole heart.

I listen to my footsteps on the trail. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Adulting is Hard

January 29, 2025 //
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Not gonna lie, when the email hit my inbox it kind of took my breath away, and I had a moment of panic and stress and doubt. My anxiety flared up, shouting in my head for attention. I wanted to “run away”.

We are contacting you to communicate an adjustment in the monthly rental rate…

Funny how such things are so rarely about a decrease in the rent, eh?

We do not take adjusting your rental rate lightly and understand cost increases impact you…

Yeah, I’ll bet you do. I took a deep breath and pulled out my calculator, and my calendar.

Two increases in less than six months since new management took over the storage company we lease a unit from. I took another breath, and patiently adulted through the panic. I did the math, did some comparisons, and determined quickly that we could easily do better. Instead of freaking out, I sent my Traveling Partner an email, sharing the unexpected increase in the rent on our storage unit, and providing the alternatives I’d identified. We came to a solution, made a plan, and got to work on making a needed change. Yes, it’s a lot of work to be done, but sooner on this is better than later.

…I immediately felt less stressed out…

I’ve grown. It wasn’t so long ago that something like this would have me mentally “running for cover”, terrified to face circumstances or take action. The key detail, the first step on the path, being to face circumstances, with open eyes and an open mind. We can’t make informed choices or wise changes to circumstances we try to hide from. Elementary adulting; don’t lie to yourself.

Am I happy to have to move a bunch of stuff from one storage unit to another? Not really. On the other hand, what we actually have are two storage units, and we’ll move into one much larger one for the same price, and be able to re-organize efficiently as we do so. This turns the whole annoying thing into a really choice opportunity and an improvement in convenience, and I am happy about that. Altogether a positive change, with some verbs involved. Had I let this mess go for weeks or months trying to avoid thinking about it or dealing with it, or trying to wish it away, I could have found myself lacking good options, or faced with even greater expense and massive inconvenience. I smile and sip my coffee – there’s certainly no stress over it this morning.

There’s a lesson here. Look the stressful circumstances in the face. Get out your calculator, takes some notes, do some math, think things over with consideration. Seek clarity. Be realistic and frank with yourself. Make a plan, and make a plan B. Do the needful. Adulting is hard sometimes, but avoiding the required work doesn’t make it easier at all. You’ve got this – whatever it is.

Take a breath. Begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

This Seriously Shitty Day in Progress

June 13, 2024 //
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I’ll keep doing my best…but…

…You don’t have to read this. In fact, I strongly suggest you skip it. I’m going to vent a bit, and share too much, and be too angry, and maybe you just don’t need that right now? Fucking drama, right? I know I don’t need this shit… I also don’t need to save it up to blow up over some even smaller bullshit later on. So, I just need to say words. You don’t have to read them, though…

Sure, it could be better, but it could also be a whole lot worse.

I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I woke with my headache “turned up to 11” this morning. My back aches with my arthritis. I’ve been dealing with a ton of “extras” – extra needs, extra tasks, extra negative emotions from people, extra calls on my calendar, extra email threads – and too little actual bandwidth to deal with it all comfortably, or easily, or with any particular measure of grace. Too much to do and I’m stretched to thin to be good at any of it. I’m just doing my best – and it’s clearly not enough to get the job done like a pro.

I catch tears welling up over and over again. Twice they dripped down my cheeks as I sat at my desk trying to focus on the task at hand. So… on top of all the other bullshit, I’m clearly also dealing with my own – while I sit in an open shared “public” professional (cowork) space. It’s awkward. Uncomfortable. Inconvenient. Inefficient. Distracting. (I’m still doing my best.)

…I even saw today coming, because it was pretty fucking predictable, and in no way actually “personal”…

On top of all that? The lights here are too bright. The office is too cold. My tinnitus is crazy loud. I’m noise-sensitive af. I broke a nail below the quick, and the broken bit snagged on the fabric of this office chair and tore right the fuck off – which hurts like hell, but nothing like this g’damned persistent now-going-on-11-years headache that follows me every-fucking-where, and for which no one (thus far) seems to have any useful insight on it, diagnosis of it, or treatment for it. It’s just there. Reliably. For 11 fucking years now.

My smile feels brittle when I have to interact with someone. It’s not real and doesn’t reach my eyes. I’m aware of it, and I feel self-conscious on top of being in pain. I want to do more, and do it better, and “be there” for everyone who needs me to be – especially my Traveling Partner, who’s dealing with his own misery today (and it’s probably worse than mine,) and who definitely needs my help, my love, and my care.

Why bother to drop this on you? Mostly because you’re here. Writing is a way I cope with complex emotion and shit that is overwhelming me. (Are you still reading this?? I did try to warn you…)

I breathe, exhale… I keep trying. I keep going. I just keep stepping through the various motions of various practices and waiting for something to click… for success to catch up with me… My results vary. Today, my results are not everything I need – they’re just all I’m going to get, apparently.

Hard is hard. The chaos and damage of trauma linger way past when we expect it to, and sometimes that really complicates things. It’s easy – too easy – to take all of it personally (it so clearly is not). My poor quality sleep impairs my thinking and limits my resilience. The work day limits my focus – but there, too, I’m struggling. It’s hard to focus. Hard to stay focused when I get there. I’m distracted by what’s going on with me and what’s going on with my partner and his health. Messy.

…Sometimes doing our best doesn’t get results that feel like enough, but it’s not actually possible to do “more than our best”. Frustrating. Enough has to be enough, but often it doesn’t feel like it is. Sometimes, our “best” is within reach, if we just reach farther, dig deeper, but g’damn… when does that ever end?

…I’m tired and I’m frustrated and I’m in pain. Still not personal. Still just sucks. So human. What is there to do about it besides take a minute to breathe, maybe time to meditate, stay on the path, and begin again? Nothing, I guess… but that doesn’t make it any more comforting when it doesn’t feel like enough, or any easier to practice when it doesn’t immediately feel effective.

…What a shitty fucking day this is so far…

…I’ve still got to begin again… again.

This too will pass.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Frustration, grief, health, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights

I Don’t Care About That Other Stuff Right Now

September 27, 2019 //
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The possible (likely) impeachment of the US President? I don’t care right now, at all. Local weather? I’m indifferent; it’s meaningless. Work? Connectivity? Housekeeping? The appointment I have scheduled later? Nothing matters beyond one small (huge) thing; I’m sitting alone, heart aching, while my partner is elsewhere, also alone (an assumption), and probably having a less than ideal experience, too.

…I’m not even sure what went wrong, exactly. We started down the path of a conversation… we converse daily, often, and manage both deep conversations, and light-hearted banter (and lots of things in between) quite effortlessly, most of the time. Was I pre-disposed towards frustration, after spending a morning frustrated by technical difficulties, on a rare day working from home? Was he having his experience from within a context that had him potentially predisposed toward difficulties, himself? Is this even “about” either of us, at all? We are each having our own experience – this much is reliably true. I feel, at the moment, sort of bitter, rather heartsick, fighting off tears I don’t want to deal with, and feeling that I am a failure as a partner because – how can I not manage something so fucking basic as a conversation??

In all respects it was a lovely morning to start with. I sit staring disinterestedly into this 3rd cup of coffee, trying to hold onto the morning’s delights. Elusive. Those moments feel as if they were only a dream, now. I am acutely aware I have a “routine” check up with my therapist coming in a couple weeks, and I find myself struggling with a feeling of shame over maybe really needing that time, even after so long, and so much progress. It flares up as resentment and anger, then recedes as a sort of sad gray shadow over my experience, and a hint of despair and futility. “Doesn’t it ever stop…?” My demons attack where I am weakest, that’s a given, and I’m unsurprised by the bleak feeling of doubt, the sense of loss, of abandonment, the feeling of hurt and unworthiness. Damn, this is shitty.

…I hope he’s okay (he’s probably feeling shitty, too).

I look into my coffee mug again, as if I were even going to drink it. I put the cup back down. I also don’t care about this cup of coffee – not compared to how much I care that I am enduring this moment, or that he is enduring his… or that we ended up in this place, in the first place. This coffee doesn’t even smell good. I made it the same as always. No interest in drinking it now. It just sits. Same as me. Just sitting here, mired in this mess. I tried the “walk away and calm down” approach to handling miscommunication and frustration… it does not seem to have provided any useful benefit. I mean… I suppose it’s better than waiting around poking a hornets’ nest until one or the other of us seriously lose our temper. I can’t stand raised voices. Instead… oh sure, it’s fucking quiet, but… I am isolated with my despair… my most dangerous personal foe. “Misery loves company”? Nah. I don’t buy that. Misery doesn’t love a fucking thing, it’s grim, stoic – a loiterer who takes everything pleasant and destroys it without hesitation.

…I even know the steps to take to not be here… and can’t raise the motivation to do a thing about it… like giving up. The futility becomes a quiet waterfall of hot tears. A lifetime of frustration and learned helplessness clench my jaws. My back aches with the weight of it. This? This right here is another very human experience. (“It’s just a moment”, I hear my internal reminder on autopilot, “this will pass. It’s just weather, not climate.” I can’t hear it; it feels very distant and irrelevant.)

Too fucking human. So… what’s to be done about it, then? Yeah, um… I don’t know right now. I’m too busy feeling hurt and filled with chaos and damage. Let me get done with all that, then I’ll move on to doing something else… probably sort myself out at some point… maybe even begin again.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, Frustration, grief, loneliness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words
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