Archives for posts with tag: emotional self sufficiency

We’re more divided than ever. More diverse in the specificity of our intersecting identities. More willing than ever to set boundaries and make it a fight. We do more out grouping, in spite of being more aware that out grouping is a thing – and that it causes harm. We’re very inefficient creatures as far as making social progress that benefits us all, are we not?

So… What do you really stand for? Whose side are you really on? In life? In love? When you “take a side”, are your eyes on a shared win for humanity – or are you hoping to “win an argument”, based on individual values, special interests, or some particular selected weird bit of dogma that you’ve become fixated on, or perhaps adopted when you were so young you mistake it for “natural law”? I mean, we’re all human, our biases are very real, and our cognition has legitimate limitations and… quirks. We aren’t even all reliably decent people (still people, though). It’s not just about global conflict – it gets right down to individual relationships. We’re human.

…What do human beings mean when we say “equal”, or “fair”, or “morally right”? How do we define the value of a human life – and what does it take for any one of us to turn on another human being and decide that their life lacks value? I don’t have answers to any of these questions, aside from my own answers that I trust with a certain amount of skepticism (being wholly aware how human I am, and how prone to error). I do think these are questions we should be asking, and discussing in an honest and vulnerable way, open to changing our thinking for the betterment of human kind. For the betterment of the planet, and of life itself. Yeah, and as individuals, too.

I was reading an article recently, about healthy relationships (I have to work at mine, in spite of our deep love for each other; love doesn’t come naturally to me, I think). The article identifies some things that I hadn’t thought about in quite the way they suggest – I won’t break it all down, because you’ll no doubt have your own thoughts, but these things seem worth considering necessary in a healthy relationship – and I suspect this applies to how we relate to “people” more broadly, too:

  1. You’re actively interested in each other’s lives.
  2. You’re aware of your “attachment style” – and what other attachment styles exist, and how those function – and you’re working to develop a healthier attachment style, yourself.
  3. You don’t avoid conflict, but you don’t “fight” – you work as a team to solve problems, and achieve suitable compromise when necessary.
  4. When you address conflict, you’re open to discussing, facing, and resolving big fears and issues, not just small ones.
  5. You support each other without scorekeeping.
  6. You have your own identity and understand that other’s do, too.
  7. You create emotional safe space for each other and hold space for growth and change over time.
Incomplete work-in-progress. “Toxicity”, 11″x14″ acrylic mixed-media on canvas

Hmm. I sit with my afternoon tea and a half-finished painting in progress (a mixed-media trauma portrait), long overdue to be completed. It’s been holding me back now for… almost 8 years. Has it been so long? Wow. Too long to let pain fester. She smirks back me as I work, but her gaze is less commanding as I work out my hurt, my anger, my aggression, my doubt, my sorrow… a brush stroke here, a small bit of story-telling debris inserted into gel medium over there, another touch of glow… I smile to myself. This feels good. I don’t have words for this – but I have paint and canvas, and time to begin again.

I sip my tea and reflect. I watch the paint dry and consider the next step – like spell-casting or prayer, this is heart-felt work, and my heart feels it. I feel heard. I feel inspired.

…I’m out of small canvases. LOL

I think about my most important relationships over the years, and how I fit into those. Where I got something right. Where I clearly got it wrong. Where my nature and my character put things right… where they contributed to how wrong things were. Where wanting things to be “easy” made it so much harder to build a healthy relationship. Where my chaos and damage broke things down. Where it wasn’t that at all, but I still got it so very wrong. It’s a lot to take in, but… isn’t love worth the work?

I don’t need to take sides, I’m not arguing. I sip my tea, breathe, and begin again.

Probably. I’m for sure depressed, which is tending to make me definitely more an asshole than a sweet-tempered, good-hearted, kind and empathetic human being looking out for others and being considerate moment-to-moment. I do wish I’d recognized that I had become depressed before I had become an asshole. My results most definitely vary. The tools in my toolkit feel inadequate. This bit of emotional weather is rough. Stormy. Gray skies. Rain. It’s nasty.

I’m fortunate to have my Traveling Partner by my side, although I don’t like being yelled at over being an asshole. Once the conversation eventually got around to the whys and the wherefores, and recognition of my depression developed, for me and for him, we at least found some kind of equilibrium – a point of understanding to work from constructively. Helpful. Still unpleasant.

What I’m saying is this is a very human experience. I’m as human as anyone. The chaos and damage have won this round, but I’m still in the ring, still getting back up to go another round. Fuck depression. Fuck anxiety too. Fuck nightmares. Fuck sorrow and grief. Fuck trauma and lingering damage. All of this terrible shit is also so endlessly human. Will I be okay? Hell, I’m mostly okay now – I’m just struggling with a tremendous lot of “second arrow” suffering and yes, mental illness.

I breathe, relax. Drink water. Take my meds. Begin again.

I had planned to work from home today. I woke in such a completely offensive bad mood I couldn’t stick with that plan without willfully (and inconsiderately) exposing my Traveling Partner to my unpleasant state of mind. It made sense to take advantage of a commute to the city to (try to) sort myself out, and work in the office instead of dragging my shitty attitude around the house all day. I’m probably fortunate that the day is off to a relatively good start in spite of my nasty mood and this headache… I sip my coffee, already lukewarm and uninteresting, and let time pass without being too invested in what follows any given minute.

I woke early, although I had set my alarm a bit later than usual, figuring on the work-from-home thing, and planning to take a pleasant early morning walk, but when I woke it was from a bad dream, and as I said, I was in a foul mood (maybe because of the dream, maybe because my partner woke me early for some reason, maybe because headaches suck…? Does it matter at all?). It didn’t make sense to stick with a plan that had been made from a very different cognitive and emotional place.

Daybreak catches up with me at the office. I have a sense of time passing, moment by moment, and I sort of wish I’d stayed home, after all, but omg I am in such a shitty mood… I can’t see inflicting that on anyone else (especially not my beloved), and I’m alone here in the office until much later in the day, on a typical Wednesday. I sip my coffee. Drink some water. Remind myself to stay on top of my medication – pausing for a brief moment of irritation that that’s a thing I need to remind myself about at all. I snarl to myself about aging and how much that sucks.

My Traveling Partner was super chill about my last-minute fairly spontaneous pivot to working from the office today. (He made a point of saying he’d miss me…but I suspect if he knew the mood I’m in, that might not be the case. lol) I hope he has a pleasant day, relaxed and fun, doing whatever he likes; the whole point of getting the hell out of there before anything could go sideways was specifically to do what little I could in the moment to secure a pleasant day for us both. Or at least for him. I sigh outloud in this big quiet space. My back aches. My head aches. My sinuses are kind of stuffy. I’m cranky.

…Oh, hell… am I coming down with a cold or something…? I sure hope not, I’ve got shit to do…

I recall that I committed to taking out the recycling last night, and also to do the dishes today… but now I’m not there, and I find myself vexed by the whole mess far more than is necessary, or reasonable. I’m aggravated on a whole other level. Should I have paused to do those things before I left the house? Could I have done so without erupting in misdirected rage over… nothing? Could I have done so without making an infernal racket inappropriate to the early hour? I seethe over it for some minutes, not because it’s an appropriate response, or because it’s helpful, it’s just where my head is, this morning. I’m cross. I’m annoyed with shit. I’m… an unpleasant and unapproachable version of myself. At least for the moment.

I seek a distraction from my negative thinking. I think about my Traveling Partner, and the latest super cute prints from the new 3D printers – an adorable squad of Pikachu. He’d said something earlier about planning to give one of them to me (for my desktop “menagerie” of things). The thought delights me as much now as when he mentioned it earlier, and for a moment I’m smiling.

…I’ve still got this headache, though, and I’m still feeling super bitchy…

I fucking hate nightmares and feel about the same toward headaches. I sigh again, and sip my coffee, feeling that “it’s all rather pointless” – but without knowing what I mean by that. The bad mood? The pain I’m in? The gray skies beyond these windows? The work day ahead of me? My lingering recollection of my bad dream? I feel bleak, bitter, cynical, vexed, and disappointed with humanity. G’damn. lol It’s much.

…Perhaps a fresh (better) cup of coffee will improve my mood…?

Well, regardless what else I decide to do, I clearly need to begin again.

This morning I woke just ahead of my alarm. I’m okay with that, the timing was right. I woke drenched in anxiety and doubt, though, which isn’t common these days and it’s really thrown me off this morning. The very excellent commute into the office? Mostly characterized by intense anxiety and fearfulness in spite of being both quite routine, and also a smooth and easy commute with little traffic. It makes no sense. I woke with acid reflux, too; maybe the emotions follow the physical malady? Maybe they cause it. I don’t know. I know that I feel… tense. Alert for the next thing to go wrong (though there hasn’t been a first thing, so far today or even this week).

…Fuck anxiety…

Work is good…so… it doesn’t seem likely that it’s “a work thing”. I’ve got a good thing going with my Traveling Partner, and things seem to be good with him… so… unlikely to be anything to do with him, or with “us”. This feeling is more a loose sense of persistent dread that isn’t attached to anything particular, but lingers in the background filling my guts with churning and knots, amplifying my pain, and spiking every thought with doubt and worry. It’s an unpleasant and uncomfortable state of being, and although I tell myself it will pass (and feel certain that is true), it’s where I find myself this morning and I must say I don’t much care for it at all.

…This sensation is sometimes the result of forgetting something incredibly important that I can’t put my finger on, but on this, too, I come up empty handed when I scrounge around in my consciousness and my notes for something it could be…

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

I sip my almost-cold coffee thoughtfully. I take a deep breath, exhale, and will my shoulders to relax, feeling the sensation spread, breath after breath. It helps. I let myself acknowledge that “I’ve got a lot going on”, and then also admit to myself that a similar amount of “stuff” might not feel so weighty under other circumstances. I also consider what it can teach me that the stress feels most closely associated with things I am doing – or want to do – “for me”: a manicure I started and didn’t finish, a book I’m almost through and haven’t finished, the holiday cards for the year, holiday items I may want to 3D print (which requires learning to use the new printer), make more shower fizzies, and something or another that I feel certain I’ve forgotten. When I list them in my head my anxiety goes nuts. It seems like too much. (“For real?” I snarl resentfully at myself, in my head.) It doesn’t seem at all fair that things I enjoy doing, that are in some cases legitimately self-care (and in others just things I very much enjoy) would cause me this kind of anxiety. Or… is it just the willful choice to do things for me that’s setting off my anxiety? That’s a concern I live with. It’s entirely internal, and has its source in that mightiest of anxiety well-springs – trauma and ancient pain.

A small sad voice in my head suggests “there just isn’t enough time for everything”, but this is another illusion. Anxiety is a liar. Yes, there’s finite lifetime, but there are many choices and opportunities, and time enough generally when I choose wisely. I take another breath, and another sip of coffee and watch day breaking beyond the windows of the office. I think about what matters most, and what I want out of the day (and the week, and the upcoming 3-day weekend). I think about paintings yet unpainted… and the passage of time. I notice my anxiety but also try to step back from the visceral feeling and in order to simply observe it.

…Damn, I’m in a lot of pain today…

Could the pain I’m in be enough to trigger this level of anxiety? Sure, it could. Does. Has in the past. I pause to take steps to manage my pain, and set the anxiety aside to re-evaluate later (to check whether or not it has changed after doing something about the pain I’m in). It makes some sense; my sleep was restless and disturbed by uneasy, anxious dreams – and I went to bed in pain, and woke with it at least once. It’s that time of year; the variable weather, the chilly nights, the return of the rain, and the dampness are all qualities that seem to be associated with more than usual pain (for me). So. I try to just let it go. It’s a thing. It’ll pass.

Fuck anxiety, though.

I’ll have to begin again.

I am sipping my first coffee. It’s quite late in the morning on a Sunday. Feels like a lazy day, but I’m in the studio, after a lovely walk on a misty morning. The marsh trail is closed for the season. The all-year trail is still open, and quite lovely. The trees are wearing Autumn colors, and the migrating flocks of birds entertained me with their murmurations as the dawn became day.

Walking Autumn trails.

My Traveling Partner is in his creative space, printing parts, re-assembling a 3D printer, and doing his thing. I’m in my studio, in a similarly creative mental space. This morning my head is filled with art and meaning, connections and inspiration. I am thinking about the past – and the future. I am listening to music that connects those elements of my life in an entertaining way; Cyberpunk. This Billy Idol album came out in 1993 – well-before I had a computer on my desk, myself. I had read my share of William Gibson, of course, but pc’s were not yet commonplace and “smartphone” wasn’t even a word yet. I had yet to form the future friendships that would come to rely on internet connectivity to sustain them over time. Listening to Cyberpunk now, it has a lot of peculiarly prescient elements that now seem almost mundane and just a little “so what?” I find that quite interesting. It remains one of my “forever favorite” albums. My favorite track? Probably Adam in Chains… I think back on “that time”, and find myself wondering how I didn’t “pick up on” the value of mindfulness and a serious meditation practice then…? How did it take me so long to get here? I remember listening to Adam in Chains with my headphones on, or alone at home with the stereo cranked up, stressed to a breaking point, drifting deeper into a meditative state following the flow of the music…finding temporary peace. It wasn’t a practice, just a moment.

…Listening now, it lifts me and lifts me, and I feel a wholeness and contentment and joy, although the lyrics and music are not of a happy place or time…

I could have come farther, faster, sooner if I had made the connection, perhaps… It’s a complicated journey. I took some detours and some dead-end paths. I’m not even sure I regret those, knowing what I know now; it’s been a life well-lived. There’s no knowing which small detail, changed, would change all the rest. Would I give up even one friendship formed later to have healed sooner? I don’t think that’s a choice I’d want to make. If finding mental health, wellness, and emotional stability would have come sooner, but at the cost of never making the acquaintance of my Traveling Partner…? Would I have chosen sanity over love? I don’t know that I would, given a chance to make an informed choice. Love is pretty splendid.

Art inspired by life, new work in progress waiting for attention.

I tinker while I sip coffee and write. I pause the music when my Traveling Partner pops in to show me newly printed parts from the new 3D printer – pretty amazing stuff, and I delight in both the quality of the results and his obvious satisfaction. I re-connect the Bluetooth antenna to my desktop computer in order to pair the Cricut; it’s a pain in the ass to balance my laptop on my knees in the studio, when I could be using my desktop computer for the design work so much more conveniently, and it’s been holding me back a bit. The beat pounds in my ears as I type. My coffee is still warm, and well-prepared. It’s a good day for art and play and love – I feel inspired.

It’s time to begin again.