Archives for posts with tag: emotional self sufficiency

I woke to a peculiar morning. It was past daybreak. Past dawn. Past the time the sunrise would have brought on the new day. I woke to a most peculiarly beige-infused sky… everything beige. The sand. The sea. The sky. It was… weird. I didn’t know what to make of it at all, and I snapped a couple pictures of the view of the western horizon from the balcony… that look completely ordinary on my camera.

No color adjustments, the pictures look… pink? Mauve? Equally strange, but not at all the color I saw with my naked human eyes, nor how they rendered on my camera.

I tried to find a filter or adjustment after-the-fact that might show the scene more the way I saw it, with limited success.

This is pretty close to what I saw, only even the water of the bay was the same orange-y beige of the sky.

It was strange. Very strange. It threw me off my expectations of the day, for sure. It didn’t last. By the time I made coffee, and made a short trip down to the hotel’s meager “breakfast bar” (a counter with some cereal and instant oatmeal, an air-pot of hot coffee, and a small fridge with yogurt in it), things looked more or less ordinary enough, with a rainy mist rolling in from the sea and showers in the forecast.

…Now I feel rather as if I “don’t know what to think”, which is quite an odd sensation…

I woke feeling rested after my wakeful time during the night. My dreams were rich and interesting. I woke feeling inspired and eager to feel the soft dry sticks of pastels between my fingers (although, for safety, I wear finger cots to prevent cadmium, cobalt, or chromium pigments from soaking into my skin). Seems a good day for it. (For which I am grateful, since it is one of the reasons I came to this place equipped thusly.)

It’s not a fancy hotel, but it suits the purpose.

My Traveling Partner pinged me a good-morning greeting before I woke. I returned it after he’d gone back to bed. He misses me. I miss him too. I am appreciative of my solitude – but also of the opportunity to miss my partner. Caregiving is hard, and tempers flare when perhaps they ought not. I know I could do better. I fucking love that man – and I mean to do better to treat him with love, patience, and kindness than I sometimes manage to do. It’s easy to take him for granted. It’s easy to be angry with circumstances and fail to differentiate circumstances from the man. Having some time apart reminds me how much I do yearn to be in his good company, how much I love his humor and his tenderness – and how hard it must be to be his best self under these trying circumstances, at all. This shit is hard. Caregiving is hard. Being the one having to accept caregiving is equally hard (and emotionally probably harder). I wish him well from afar, and pause to feel all the love we’ve shared over these many years. I’ve been with him now longer than with any one other human being – friend, lover, or family member. (Though I’ve had some friendships longer, those have endured quite a lot of distance between conversations and shared space – it’s not at all the same.) I left my parents’ home when I was 14. I’ve been with my Traveling Partner now, some 15 years. Wow. I know, I know – it’s not uncommon for monogamous folk who travel life’s path with a single partner they met when quite young to be together many decades; this still feels incredibly special and enduring to me. I’m grateful.

I’ll eat my yogurt (blueberry), drink my coffee, and walk on the beach before it begins raining seriously, then return to the room to paint in the diffuse gray light of this rainy day… a very pleasing way to begin again.

I’m awake in the wee hours. “The bottom of the night”, I used to call it – it’s just minutes shy of 03:00 a.m. Why the hell am I awake? I feel… sleepy… but I’m not asleep. I toss restlessly for a few minutes. I get up to pee, take an antacid, and go back to bed. Sleep chases me, but doesn’t catch me. lol

I finally just get up. Why not? I’ve got this hotel room to myself, and the world sleeps around me. Beach campfires that were lit in the darkness, visible in the distance, are extinguished now. The lights of late-night beachcombers are gone. Dinghies and fisherman, too, have all gone. There’s nothing but darkness beyond the balcony and across the bay. So quiet. My right knee aches for no particular reason – is that what’s keeping me from going back to sleep? Pain? How commonplace! I pour a glass of cold water and turn on a light. My back aches… more pain. Ridiculous. I’m annoyed by the pain, mostly because it seems such a stupid thing to be dealing with when I could be asleep, dreaming, resting, healing to take on a new day.

…Pain is part of the human condition, and most people have some, whether we see it or not…

I sip my water and let my mind move on. It’s late for it, and it may make me wakeful, but I don’t have to work, and if I chose to do so, I could nap all day tomorrow simply by choosing to… so… why would I sit here suffering? I mean, aside from suffering also being part of the human condition? lol I put a capsaicin patch on my knee. It helps.

…Now I’ve got fucking hiccups…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The quiet is pleasant and uninterrupted by any concern about waking anyone else. I feel relaxed and contented, if not physically comfortable. Small win, but I’ll take it – it’s nice to be wakeful in the night with no hint of anxiety. Sure, sure, I could be sleeping right now, but I’m not, and that’s okay, too. I’m okay for all observed values of okay, aside from a bit of physical pain – and let’s not kid ourselves, eh? A lot of people have it worse right now, at this very moment, dealing with pain, sorrow, disadvantage, hardship, anxiety…fucking actual bombs… there are so many things that can and do go wrong in a human lifetime. I’m grateful that the only thing amiss for me in this moment is that I’m awake at 03:00 a.m. I’ve got this… (If you know, you know – if it’s 3 a.m. as you read this, I recommend headphones before you click the link. lol).

Time is eternal

G’damn, I should fucking go back to bed. I laugh quietly. Now I’m not only awake, I’m managing to have a good time with it, feeling merry, feeling… joyful. A great playlist and Bluetooth headphones; I am untethered and free, dancing in the darkness. lol Good grief, humans are weird. I smile to myself, enjoying the moment, aware that somewhere “out there” on the fringes of the many people I have known, and lives once lived, the Party People are probably also dancing, wrecking themselves midst the house-parties that never end, in some un-named trap house somewhere far away. My recollections connect me to them by a mere thread between the recalled “then” and the lived “now”. I’m okay with that – I’m not about that life. lol I do love the music…

The music plays, and I dance on. Eventually, I’ll sleep, wake, and begin again.

I’m eating oatmeal and drinking a fairly uninteresting cup of hotel coffee. I slept in – I mean, for me – rather a lot; I didn’t wake up until 06:30, just as day break hinted at a new-day-to-come on the eastern horizon beyond the hotel room balcony. I sigh contentedly. I don’t even like oatmeal. lol That’s not the point.

Afternoon view from the hotel balcony.

I arrived yesterday in the late afternoon and started getting settled in… set my phone down while I brought my bags and pastels in to the room, and missed some pings from my Traveling Partner (after he had rather abruptly told me to stop pinging him because he was trying to use the phone) and he called me, worried about the prolonged lack of reply. I was fine. Everything was fine. “Nothing to see here.”

An exchange of pleasant messages a short time later managed to become a stressful conversation about an irritating eBay purchase for which we’re waiting on a refund. The circumstances themselves are annoying, and I very much want to see those resolved satisfactorily, but I definitely wasn’t seeking out opportunities to be stressed the fuck out about anything, just then. At all. Regardless of relative importance or the amount of money involved… I’m not here for that, right now. I have been teetering on the edge of “see a professional” levels of exhaustion and just frankly overwhelmed by having to do every fucking thing, basically all the time. (I recognize that a great deal of that stress and overwhelming effort is “emotional labor” vs actual physical workload, and that I do get some help with some tasks around the house from the Anxious Adventurer.) I say something about it to my partner, and he reminds me that I don’t have to look at – or respond to – his pings in real-time every moment.

…I think back to the earlier phone call and wonder how true that really is…

…I honestly don’t like leaving him hanging, and don’t want to miss responding to something truly urgent…

…Adulting is hard…

…Then I set expectations (again) that I’m going to lay down (because I’m in pain) and I set my phone aside and do that.

I wake to the sunset.

I wake to the ringing phone. I hadn’t meant to sleep… “Definitely tired,” I think as I answer the phone. My Traveling Partner greets me with a loving tone and an apology (for being cranky earlier and stressing me out) – he called because he realized I was likely to crash hard and possibly sleep past the point I’d wisely pause for healthy calories. He was right. He generally is right, about most things he bothers with at all. I’m grateful. I go across the road to the food carts and get some tasty Indian food, a nice treat. We chat briefly when I return. He misses me. I get it – I miss him too. (and I also miss me.) I’m grateful to have a partner who supports me taking care of myself in this way…and we sometimes benefit from a chance to miss each other. Perspective.

I wasn’t up much longer last night than it took to “let dinner settle” (I don’t enjoy waking up to acid reflux, so I avoid going to bed on a full stomach). I ended up calling it a night at a more or less typical time (for me), after a pleasant shower.

I woke this morning, after “sleeping in”, to a lovely new day. The sound of sea birds on the bay. The sound of ocean waves beyond the channel. A view of day break and dawn yet to arrive. Lovely. I made oatmeal and hotel coffee; I have no need to rush around doing anything more than this. I’m here, now, making the most of an opportunity to rest. This is an endeavor that has a surprising number of verbs, itself, frankly – they’re just different verbs. lol

Time to begin again. It’s a new day.

My phone pings me an alert from the security camera; the Anxious Adventurer on his way to somewhere. I send him a quick good morning message, and ask if he remembered to make coffee for my Traveling Partner (I’m clearly not there to do that!). New habits, especially short-term, can be easily overlooked, and I truly need the backup on this – not checking in on it this first morning seemed unwise. This? Right here? This is one of the major drivers of my fatigue; I struggle with feeling responsible for “all the things”, almost all the time. It’s probably a trauma-based character flaw of some kind. I breathe, exhale, and relax – and let myself return to this place, and this moment.

I open the balcony door to let in the fresh ocean breeze. I sip my coffee and write. A little later, once there’s plentiful daylight and the delights of the sunrise have been savored from here, I’ll go walk on the beach, reflecting on life and love, and feeling life’s minutes tick by gently. Later still, I’ll return to the room with fresh coffee, properly made by some professional coffee-making establishment, and set up the pastels for a day of painting and creative musings, listening to love songs and sea breezes. G’damn I needed this restful time. I’ve been pushing myself so hard, and so little of that effort has anything at all to do with me. I don’t resent service to family, hearth, and home – it’s not that. I’m just tired. It’s been a lot, and I am one mere mortal woman with my own limitations. I can only do so much for everyone else, before I have to stop, just stop, and do something for me. Rest. Paint. Wander. Exist quietly for a time without external observations, however helpful – a moment to simply be. Now and then I need a couple days alone with the woman in the mirror.

…Then I can begin again.

Work is work. I’m doing my best to be focused and present, engaged in the tasks at hand. Meetings? I wear a pleasant mask and hope for the best. It feels inauthentic – and entirely necessary.

Something like a view. Perspective.

An old old happy song fills my ears, and I crumble. Just tears every-fucking-where. I am grateful for an office and a door that closes. I just give in to it. 1977 was a long time ago, indeed. It’s not that I was “happy” then – I was just…young. I didn’t know what the future held, I only figured it had to be better than the past.

I held on to some optimism for a while after that, before that became a mire of cynicism, pain, disappointment, and my eventual descent into trauma-related mental illness. Somewhere within, I still find that young heart, and that feeling that love is real and “fixes everything”. Somewhere past all these tears… I’ve disappointed myself so often, sometimes it’s hard to remember that tears eventually dry.

I miss old friends no longer around to talk to. I’m at an age where people have started… dying off. I’ve still got tears saved up for them, too. It’s just too much today. The world is full of chaos and violence and bloodshed… that’s worth crying over, too. Fuck. I’m a mess today. Funny that the music of my youthful years still feels so relevant… I feel grateful for that.

…So…I cry. I just let it out and hope for the best. There’s work to do – “the best” doesn’t come cheap, and it’s never free. There are verbs involved. Sometimes one of those is crying. There’s no shame in honest tears. I check my calendar – I can’t cry forever. It’s a work day. I’ll have to pull myself together for the next meeting and begin again.

I only woke once during the night. The house was quiet. Quieter than it has been, and even through my tinnitus I could tell. Yesterday my Traveling Partner identified a peculiar ringing noise, something like a finger going around the rim of a crystal glass or something similarly annoying, and turned off the source. Apparently the feeling of relief was immediate – I definitely experienced that myself, when I returned home later in the day. We wondered together how much additional background stress that noise was creating in the household…?

The night was quiet. My sleep was more restful. I still woke in the morning with my tinnitus screeching and whining away in my ears, but that peculiar ringing is not part of it. Win. I woke in pain. Arthritis. It’s not any sort of unexpected surprise, it just sucks; the weather is beginning to turn towards autumn and there will likely be more days of worse-than-summertime pain ahead. That’s just real. It’s part of my experience, and I’m not really even intending to bitch about it, it’s just an observation of how things are today. I sigh, and wait for the sun; a walk will help.

Daybreak just ahead.

My Traveling Partner pings me. It’s barely daybreak, and I’m surprised he is up. He shares his irritation at being unable to rest, sounding frustrated and annoyed. I don’t even want to deal with any of that, although I feel for him and wish he were having a more pleasant experience. I give up on my walk, start the car and head back to the house; it’s early enough to grab my laptop and head into the office to work, which will give him the day in peace. Hopefully he finds the rest and quiet time he needs. I walk away from our brief interaction at the house feeling annoyed with his negativity and stress, and being in pain myself, I start the drive to the office in a pretty savage mood. Unpleasant. I also spend the drive working on letting that bullshit go. I’m not the one who woke up feeling disturbed, distressed, and unable to rest. Not my experience. I’m the partner who had a solution ready-to-go and implemented it promptly without argument or drama. I’m okay with that role, and missing one walk of many is not such a big deal, really.

…I missed the sunrise, and I feel that in a particularly poignant way, which surprised me just a little. We are mortal creatures, and there’s no knowing how many sunrises may remain. I give myself room to have those feelings and respect them, and take time to feel grateful to have seen so many…

The drive to the office is calm, with very little traffic. I spend it more than a little bit “in my own head”, and arrive, park, and set up my day with an efficiency that highlights how much emotional resilience can matter. Worth the time spent practicing, surely. (And we become what we practice.) I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I’ve got the day ahead of me now, and I take a moment to write, and reflect, and savor the pleasant early start to the day; I don’t bother with the brief moment of disappointment over missing out on my walk, other than a gentle reminder to myself that it was a choice, and I could have chosen differently. I made the choice I did out of affectionate regard and loving concern for my Traveling Partner and his needs, on a day when I could easily do so. This is hardly a “sacrifice” worth any measure of sorrow. It simply reflects a mature and loving partnership.

So. Here I am with my tinnitus and my pain, an entire new day ahead of me. Seems like a good opportunity to begin again. 😀