Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

And a Side of Fail Sauce, Please

July 13, 2013 //
2

Let me get what is true and obvious out of the way, first, as an effort to find clarity; it is a lovely summer Saturday, sunny and mild.

"Sheer Bliss", and a breezy, sunny Saturday.

“Sheer Bliss”, and a breezy, sunny Saturday.

It is also pretty disappointing as Saturdays go, at least for now. If it just sucked from the moment I woke, I think it would be less bothersome that it sucks right now. Unfortunately for my present mood, the morning was lovely, and I developed expectations of how great a day it could turn out to be. It fell apart unexpectedly, largely due to the vagaries of the human primate experience in the close quarters of self-imposed captivity, hemmed in by walls and windows and expectations and needs. Because I’m not very comfortable with dealing with my own anger – or frustration or disappointment – with some sort of genuinely adult skill and graciousness, I’ve ended up being more than a little discontent in general, disconnected, and finding little pleasure things I could be doing instead; they entirely lack any satisfaction or enjoyment for me just  now. That’s enough to render the moment complete suckage, for the time being. Very human, and very reflective of a lifetime of following the lead of my emotions as if they were a powerful current with irresistible pull.

I am returning to my ‘now’ again and again, taking a breath, and putting ‘things’ on pause to feel the moment, hoping to find some small pleasure or delight in it. I mean, seriously? For fuck’s sake – there are easily a million people in the world right now without enough to eat, without a safe haven from a storm, or respite from war, or a secure home to live in, or affordable medical care, or the simple decency of being accepted by their community…all I’ve got to bitch about is that my Saturday isn’t as pleasant as I’d prefer? It’s not exactly a global crisis, is it? I can do better than this.

Still…sand in my oyster. This has every potential to be an awesome Saturday, full of laughs and good fun with people who matter to me. How do I create a pearl? (I find myself contemplating the possibility of a ribald ‘pearl necklace’ joke of some kind here, but come up empty-handed. lol > sense of humor still intact)

So…

…It takes a few moments (ha! sometimes much longer) to write one of these – at least it does for me – and it is now quite some time later than it was when I started. I mention it because over the few minutes writing, feet up on the ottoman, toes warmed by the sunlight pouring in through the skylight, the soothing trickling of aquarium noises, and the bump of bass in the background, I am finding myself slowly letting go of my anger, finding a more compassionate perspective to embrace, and time begins to slow down…the day is still ahead of me.  My day. I can do a lot with that. I can take care of me.

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Roses, Summer, Words

Softly…

July 12, 2013 //
2

…As in a morning sunrise…

It is a quiet morning, beyond my common understanding of quiet. I am still and serene. I am… ok. It’s been a couple of days to take care of my fragile heart, to heal and to rest. My eyes still tear up when I think about Tuesday morning, and I hurt down deep that ancient pain can still touch me at all. That it can reach through progress and every day delight to grab hold of my experience and continue to torment me saddens me a great deal, and so much of that vague simmering undercurrent of anger in ‘who I am’ is about this…that the pain of what-has-been can still touch me.

I see the reflection of my face in the dark mirror of the unused side monitor…I don’t look broken. I don’t look like I’ve lost my mind. I see the hint of a smile, and a subtle knowing look that suggests ‘you can’t fuck with my head so easily’…although I don’t think that’s accurate, as much as how I see that reflection; a hint of a woman I am becoming, more than the woman I have been in the past. There are also big colorful earrings…which is for the moment more relevant to my pleasure in that reflection. They match my shirt. I feel a moment of familiar affection for this complicated being that I am. Becoming more…’aware’…has also resulted in some fun moments of friendly exasperation over being so very human. I’m endlessly amused by my vanity…do earrings really matter? That the purple of these bold cheap purple and green daisies is quite the same purple as the hand-me-down purple thermal delights me in a sweet and simple way. It isn’t that the purple is a match that matters, as much as the delight. The delight is more about where the earrings and shirt came from. Every material thing I cherish has a story, or holds a memory.

Today isn’t trivial. Today isn’t tragic, either. It’s just a day. It is, however, a day that has started well and for now that is more than enough to put a smile on my face. It was a tough week…strangely, and wonderfully, it’s an enormous improvement over other, older, more difficult weeks.  It’s been about resting, recovering, healing…instead of ‘more of the same’ and the pain and anger and the tears.  The mindfulness practices I am learning have helped more than I can describe; imperfect perfection. I need a lot more practice. lol. Progress, though, is enough to show me I am choosing a path that is taking me to some desirable destination. Again, that’s enough. It wasn’t so long ago that I’d have spent days bouncing in and out of horrible states of rage and despair, frustration and tears, unable to get ‘unstuck’ from ancient pain, unable to be aided or consoled, begging for mercy, unheard. Then there’d have been days and days of fatigue and exhaustion, wandering around in a blue funk, teetering on the edge of ‘more of the same’, until it all finally ran its course. This is so much better.

It is Friday, though…and that means therapy. Progress is awesome. Doing the work that supports further progress…not always so awesome. It’s ok, though. I have the support of my partners, and 50 years of life experience to remind me that my demons only have the power I give them, and that the journey is not about the goal, or measuring the distance walked, as much as enjoying the experience over time.

No pictures today, and far fewer than a thousand words.

Tags , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Turning 50

4 letters

July 9, 2013 //
6

PTSD. This morning these are the most important 4 letters in the alphabet, for me.  They are not important individually, and they are not important for the words the initialism represents, at least, not right now. Right now they are only important because they name my experience and give me shared language to attempt to communicate with the world.

"Broken" 2012, detail

“Broken” 2012, detail

For now, I am calm, again. Things seem quiet. An eternity ago the morning started easily and beautifully. Something went very wrong. The brain injury complicates my experience. I’m so fatigued now, and my memory of what went wrong, exactly, and what set me off, and what exactly transpired between then, and some short time later (an hour almost exactly) is all pretty fuzzy and jumbled. Confused. A moment of irritability became ‘an episode’. I don’t actually know what that must be like from the outside…I can’t see me from that perspective. From the inside it is…frightening, actually terrifying, and the loss of control is…hard to describe. Lost in panic and terror, uninhibited aggression is a very real and imminent threat, and the awareness of that adds to my terror and panic. I do remember reaching again and again for mindfulness practices I am learning – this was their first real ‘test drive’ in my emotional ‘badlands’. I kept trying to breathe, to focus on that, to allow that moment of new breath to give me just a bit more control over my actions…no throwing things…breathe…no slamming things…breathe…no head slamming…breathe…no self harm… I achieved a personal best this morning. It wasn’t everything…I’m not strong enough yet, or skilled enough, or… perhaps just too broken. It was finally too much to manage and I was overcome, overwhelmed by chaos and damage. I remember feeling as if I were under attack, as if my life, my will, my liberty were threatened, as if my actual being were at risk of…not being. The world seemed to fall away and I remember crying out…pleading, I think, for help…or mercy.

I am fortunate, so very fortunate. I sit quietly here, soft jazz playing, tears still sliding down my face on and off as my emotions come and go, and my poor tired broken brain does its best to regulate things appropriately. My partner was with me, and he is more prepared than most people to support a partner with the issues I’ve got. “There for me” doesn’t even begin to describe it. He is the voice of reason calmly observing I’ve been triggered; before I realize myself that I’m going off the edge, he’s giving me something to grab onto for emotional leverage, for perspective. He’s the warm embrace comforting me, in spite of my behavior, and emotional state. He’s the thoughtful touches: the ready kleenex, the sympathy, the jazz playlist, the good listener, the wise storyteller. He gives me closeness, then space, as he watches me move through the badlands; helpless to share my experience, ever willing to share ours, and always doing his best to nurture me and helping heal my heart. I can’t ask for more – I doubt there is more to ask for.

My other partner woke later, the worst of it past. Less experienced, but all the love the world to build on, her first question was ‘what can I do to support you?’ with the firm commitment of a soldier on the battlefield, her will and her resolve available on request, without hesitation. I am fortunate to be so well-loved.

I know more about taking care of me, now. I’m taking that very seriously these days. So, today will be that – taking care of me. Recovering. Healing.

"Emotion and Reason" 2012 detail

“Emotion and Reason” 2012 detail

Tags , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Menopause, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress

The Return of The Big 5

July 5, 2013 //
1

image

So, I woke this morning to an unpleasant vibe. It happens. I am human, and each and all of my partners, friends, and dear ones are, too. We are also all having our own experience. It got me thinking about The Big 5, and how much difference it has made to me to reevaluate my own relationship values, and to pursue them in a committed mindful way.

So… I gotta ask… Are you respectful of others? Not just when you think they ‘deserve it’, but because you are respectful? Do you allow yourself to expect and require respect in return, without being confrontational or demanding? Would you respect yourself enough to end a relationship that didn’t measure up?

How about consideration? Are you considerate of others, and able to treat them well, and recognize that their experience is their own, and consider
it when you interact with them? Do you expect and require that you be treated with consideration yourself, and communicate clearly and without aggression or hostility, when you perceive you are not? Do you treat yourself with consideration, and make meeting your own needs a priority?

Do you value reciprocity and act on opportunities to support your relationships with action? Do you expect and require reciprocity from your relationships, and refuse to invest in unbalanced relationships where servitude is expected, and resentment is fostered?

Are you compassionate toward your loved ones, and to yourself, and able to support them emotionally, and be supported in return, even when the challenges and stress are between you, and part of your shared experience?

Are you open? Open to new experiences, open to the vast potential for success, open to change and choice, and open to sharing who you really are and the honest details of your experience without shame or fear- or in spite of it? Can you appreciate and value it when facing the fearless openness of another?

Just saying…these seem better than many alternatives.

Tags , , , , , , ,
Categories Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Perspective, Relationships

Damage Fights Back

July 3, 2013 //
3

I woke to the alarm this morning, a rarity, and I woke with a sense of extreme relief to find myself awake and safe. Nightmares. More nightmares. They’ve already mostly faded from any hope of detailed recollection, although I rarely consider them in detail, once I have made my escape. I do remember a point during the night when I recognized that the strange heaving and shaking sensations that recurred in my dream world were my own unreserved sobbing in my sleep…I woke with swollen eyes and flushed cheeks, and that sensation like a desert wind had dried out my sinuses and my eyeballs. I must have cried for a long while. I dread facing days or weeks of my nightmares ramping up, eventually resulting in a deep reluctance to sleep at all, that over time becomes unsettled, disrupted sleep consisting mainly of unexpected naps interrupted by the panicked awareness that I have fallen asleep which rouses me abruptly, fearfully, and on the defensive – alert to the unseen enemy that may be lurking. I’ve been through it a few times before.  At its worst, I lived more than a decade of my life without ever having slept through a night, mostly only napping an hour at a time when I slept at all. (For now, it is not that bad.)

Sometimes all it takes to feel safe is opening my eyes to a new day.

So happy the night is over…

Do the details matter? The fear and anxiety are ugly enough without the details, aren’t they? There’s a frightened voice in my thoughts when I contemplate the ancient pain and damage in any detail…”Please don’t make me do this…” I avert my mind’s eye from my own experience far too often. I am torn apart by terror, old pain, old programming, the remnants of someone else’s will – and my own lingering rage.  Is it enough to acknowledge that my nightmares last night were populated with the faces of people who love me, whose love I recognize and accept – but the soundtrack was the voices of monsters dubbed in…and the message is clear. The damaged bits are making their own voices heard – “Don’t fuck with us!”  I know it is time, though…”time to turn and face the strange“… time to walk a path that takes me directly to the heart of who I am, and be ok with that... ok with me. It is time to slay some motherfucking demons*. It is time to fix the code, clean up the registry, uninstall the software creating the conflict in my OS…it is also, perhaps, time to find a more human metaphor for this experience. lol. (I can still laugh…even after a night of being screamed at in my sleep and assured that my life is not my own, that I have no will and no choice, that I do not deserve better, that everything – everything – is ‘all my fault’. Being able to laugh after a night like this is a nice improvement.)

I spent some quiet moments enjoying the serenity of my aquarium.  Deep breaths. Yoga. A shower than could have been leisurely, but ended up rousing my startle reflex after the difficult night. (Have you ever taken a moment to wonder what it might be like to have one or more PTSD triggers that are totally daily events? Like… being in the shower? 😦 ) More meditation.  A quiet latte using the last of an almost empty bottle of maple syrup. (I like maple syrup in my coffee…is that strange?) A few gentle minutes with myself in the greenhouse, and in the garden… it all felt so good, so serene… but my night is like a nasty bruise; I brush against it and it hurts again.  Well, hell…it’s a lovely sunny day…and there are flowers.

Tiny white flowers...

Tiny white flowers…

Untidy purple flowers...

Untidy purple flowers…

Clusters of daisy-like flowers...

Bunches of daisy-like flowers…

Flowers in the shade...

Flowers in the shade…

Flowers in the sun...

Flowers in the sun…

Flowers that may be blue...or possibly purple...

Flowers that may be blue…or possibly purple…

Flowers in clusters...

Flowers in clusters…

Flowers along the walk...

Flowers along the walk…

...and flowers on shrubs.

…and flowers on shrubs.

Flowers, gardens, sunshine, love… it all matters so much more right now; an anchor, a life raft, a safety net…hope.  Ahead of me a new day, the possibility of real healing…the night is far away for now, and perhaps sleep will treat me gently tonight…or perhaps I will bring genocide to my demons*. 🙂

*note: I do not believe in literal demonic possession, for the sake of clarity, my ‘demons’ are a metaphor for ancient pain and damage, inappropriate coping mechanisms, out of date programming, poor habitual behaviors that do not support my values, and hurtful internal messaging… you get it, right? lol 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tags , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »