I slept somewhat poorly last night, restless with pain mostly. My dreams were filled with chaos and uncertainty, and the occasional random spider. Odd. I woke in the usual way, dressed and left the house, head still full of chaos. My thoughts as I drove up the highway reflected the restlessness of the night and the chaos in my head; I reflected philosophically on a variety of seemingly unrelated ideas, the only connecting thread being my own individual perspective, as I exist today. Useful? Hardly. Barely interesting, already forgotten.

I get to work, in less pain than yesterday but still feeling it as a distraction. I take my meds, get some coffee. I sigh and get things set up for the day. It’s a routine work day and I’m grateful to be working…but…

…Fucking hell life is expensive, and “enough” doesn’t always feel like “enough”. I say this acutely aware that I write from a place of relative privilege. Things could be better, yeah, but they could sure be a lot fucking worse. (And have been, in past eras of my life). My pain grates on my nerves – but so does my feeling of discontent and stress over the future. (Will I ever retire? It doesn’t seem at all likely at this point, until lack of fitness for such endeavors forces me out of the workforce to exist on whatever resources remain. A grim thought, and I try not to linger in this place.)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Some days it is a force of will to be in a positive frame of mind. This doesn’t mean inauthentically silently screaming positive aphorisms to myself in my head or forcing a smile to the people around me while I proclaim that “everything is fine” – that doesn’t work. “Fake it till you make it” is not my way; I haven’t found success there, myself. Instead, I rely on practicing gratitude – legitimate, heartfelt appreciation for the things that are working, the things that feel good, that things I have, or do, or feel, that truly lift me up. There’s a lot to be grateful for, and generally the very temporary feelings of stress and discontent will pass if I don’t dig in and build myself a trap to fall into. So, here I am. I “feel around in my headspace” looking for a route to reclaiming my sense of self, my perspective, my feeling of being empowered… I remember I playlist I started once-upon-a-time that might be helpful right now… “No F*cks“. Hmmm… Pretty short playlist. I distract myself wondering what to add that fits the theme. I have definitely found that a “positive distraction” can help shift my mood from the dark places my thoughts sometimes wander.

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

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I catch myself wondering about the background stress and the thread of anxiety running through my thoughts. What’s up with me? Is it work? Is it life? Is it my doctor’s appointment later today? Oh. Yeah, that could be it, for sure. I sigh quietly. Aging has it’s ups and downs, and the doctor’s appointment is no big thing, but it brings my anxiety about my pain and long-term wellness concerns more to the forefront of my consciousness, where I thoughtlessly push it back in the form of anxiety. “Saving it for later.” Unproductive. I take a minute with myself. I do a quick “body scan”, and an “emotional inventory”, letting myself be more fully present and in touch with the feelings and sensations in my here and now moment. More than the usual pain, but a lot of it is still “just sore muscles”. My headache is worse than usual – and my health insurer (through their bullshit evil middleman) has decided not to reauthorize one of the few things that really actually gives me some pain relief (not a prescription drug, but a physical therapy). It “won’t fix anything”, which is their justification for denying reauthorization, and that’s certainly true – but there isn’t actually a treatment that will “fix” my degenerative disk disease, my osteo-arthritis, or the headache (at least nothing has been proposed as likely to be a real solution, so far). I would think relief and improved quality of life would be a good choice, with that in mind…? I catch myself gritting my teeth with suppressed fury. The pain is bad today, and I’m annoyed because it didn’t have to be, and it may be getting worse before it gets better. Cheaper to addict patients to powerful painkillers and shame them for being junkies than to provide care that actually eases suffering. Fuckers. Another breath, and I let that go. I can care, even if my insurer doesn’t. My Traveling Partner cares. My doctors care. Those things matter. Doesn’t make it easier, but I’m at least not traveling alone.

I let the music play in my ears, and sip my coffee. Sometimes enough has to be enough – even when it doesn’t feel like “enough”. Sufficiency is often not what I want it to be – it’s only what it is. Things could be legitimately worse – far worse. I’ll make the best of what is – because that’s the path I’ve chosen to walk. That’s the woman I most want to be. Capable. Fearlessly self-aware. Doing my best. It’s not nothing – and sometimes something is all I need to get by for awhile.

I smile to myself. I feel it still. I definitely do. It’s time to begin again anyway.