Archives for posts with tag: don’t let me be misunderstood

I’m quietly contemplating my evening’s ‘crash landing’ and wondering why? The house is quiet, but it isn’t late and I don’t know that anyone is sleeping. I know I am not.

It wasn’t a bad evening, quietly hanging out and watching videos of this and that. Calm. Pleasant. Eventually ‘good nights’ were exchanged. I am feeling very mortal waiting for the test results from my biopsy. I find myself ‘trying to be brave’ like the small girl I once was and hoping to let it go until I get the results – any other choice seems silly in the abstract. I am so very human.

Stormy weather...

Stormy weather…

I hurt tonight. I’ve got a terrible headache, probably stress or fatigue. My arthritis hurts. How is it I hurt this badly and still want romance? It’s frustrating. I’m not exactly approachable; I am fragile, reactive, and emotional. That’s really where it all breaks down – in one simple question, and in an instant of contemplation, “How are you doing?”. “Well, shit, I was mostly fine until you asked, actually…” but I never manage to say that. I blurt out the details of how I am doing – however that happens to be, and with the force of whatever emotion is bound up in it all – and it tumbles forth in words…and emotions, in no particular order, and with full real-time intensity.  It must suck on this whole other level to live around this injury, and the chaos and damage I wade through every day – I just don’t have the same perspective on it. How can I?

I don’t know what I’m to learn here. There’s something to be learned, I’m sure of that. It’s late, and these tears don’t matter a tinker’s damn to the massive ills of the world. This is some minor league suffering, right here, and there’s a chill calm part of me that recognizes the subtle difference between the simple sorrow, itself, and the wave of suffering that follows, self-inflicted. Part of me feels foolish to be so storm-tossed, like an adolescent girl; the thought reminds me it’s only been a bit more than a week since I started on the medication I was given – hormones. There are so many moving pieces to this whole ‘taking care of me’ thing. I feel like a dick for having a minor meltdown when I was unwittingly on the brink of being handed a few moments of connection, contact, and affection that I sorely needed at the end of a difficult week.

Sitting here quietly in the darkness, I also feel: sympathetic, compassionate, warm – understanding. What did I expect with the hormones, the headache, the fatigue at the end of a long day, hurting well beyond what my Rx handles, and waiting for test results? I sit calmly, wondering what to do to take care of me most skillfully, and with greatest love. Sleep, soon, probably…

There’s a new day, tomorrow. Love is pretty ‘forgive-y’ (if that’s even a word)…but choices have consequences, I’ve hurt someone dear to me, and tonight I am alone. Perhaps the dawn will come and find me smiling…certainly there’s enough love to go around if only I am open to it. There are verbs involved.

...I still have so far to go.

…I still have so far to go.

I woke this morning in a good place. I would say, if asked, that I ‘feel pretty good’. Everything this morning has gone smoothly, right down to the basically perfect latte I am sipping now.  Why do I also feel a growing edgy discontent?

Big jobs need big tools.

Big jobs need big tools.

I remember that I have new tools, new skills, new ways of viewing old things… and I take a moment to do a quick self-inventory. (“Hey there, Self, just checking in – how are things?”) A couple deep relaxing breaths, and some calm consideration of self, and i find that although I do feel good, and it has been a nice morning so far, I also have a headache – and I so often have headaches that I fail myself on self-care because I don’t acknowledge the pain, discomfort, and reduction in emotional resilience that go with a headache. Generally I ‘don’t notice’ – and what that really means is that I reduce my level of mindfulness until I am no longer aware of the headache – and open myself to a long list of risks and consequences of moving through my day mindlessly. So, this morning, I am allowing myself the freedom to both be in a good place, and be there with this damned headache. 🙂

I have a few things on my mind that I do want to talk about, write about, think about… I am finding it hard to find ‘cognitive space’ for that, and the intervals in my day still available to write, or think, seem to be dwindling away.  (I write those words and suddenly feel so tired…)  There is new stress in my experience – at work – and my routine is being upset.  Doesn’t sound like a big deal, I’m sure, although ‘routine’ is something I use to get around some of the lingering cognitive consequences of my TBI.  I keep expecting that to matter to someone besides me. lol.

Last night was an exceptional evening; hanging out with an old friend, dinner as a family, a leisurely evening hanging out and talking.  I feel like I’m forgetting something… maybe we watched a movie? If we did, right now I don’t remember what it was.  It was the delightful time together that was important.

Today is my new therapy day.  My schedule is changing and I feel uprooted and confused.  It sucks.  I’ll be changing to a new time, too.  I really like stability, and this is not that.  I already feel the effects of these small changes – for one thing, my therapy day is now also a work day. Instead of being entirely focused on my needs, my recovery, my wellness, and therapy-related thinking and self-work, I will be spending it thinking about someone else’s needs, someone else’s work – then racing across town during peak traffic to drop exhausted into my therapist’s office and try to switch gears efficiently and ‘take care of me’ for an hour, then hurry home and try to get enough head space to decompress from what are usually pretty emotionally complicated visits with my therapist, so that I can sleep.  I am aggravated and feel like I am being undermined at a time when I am finally making real progress.  There have been very few experiences in my life that have made me angrier – a bitter seething anger that lacks expression, poisoning me slowly; it feels very connected to ancient anger about powerlessness.  More of life’s challenging curriculum.

Changing seasons and roadside wildflowers as a metaphor.

Changing seasons and roadside wildflowers as a metaphor.

It seems noteworthy that this few moments and words reflecting on my feeling of ‘growing discontent’ and edginess (and realizing that it was my stress about my schedule changing and the knowns and unknowns about that change driving the shift in my mood as I got closer to heading to the office for the morning), positioned me well to observe the feelings, identify the concerns, accept the potential that my experience in therapy may be affected by my change in schedule.  I feel less like I’m driving past a ‘caution’ sign and more like I saw one and slowed down. 😀  I get a real jolt of delight when my new tools work well in a way that actually improves my experience.  My headache even seems to be slowly easing – although that could be the quad latte, and the lovely sunrise unfolding before me.  lol

...sometimes taking a moment for simple beauty is enough.

…sometimes taking a moment for simple beauty is enough.

In spite of challenges, I am making real progress with taking steps beyond just ‘managing’ my PTSD, to real healing, as well as slowly doing what I can to rehabilitate a decades-old TBI.  I’m even satisfied with my progress, and able to appreciate the work I am doing.  This is change for the better – used to be I just couldn’t detect any progress at all, and any hint of improvement in my experience seemed quite fleeting, or even illusory.  This new ability to observe, recognize, accept, and be pleased with growth and improvement is wonderful. 😀

Sometimes it helps to talk things over with a friend... thank you for 'being there'.

Sometimes it helps to talk things over with a friend… thank you for ‘being there’.