Archives for posts with tag: mood management

Yesterday was a pretty relaxed day of getting things done, although not that many things, and rather slowly. I spent the day in pain, and that put pain management as a high priority, competing for my attention through the day. My Traveling Partner was also dealing with pain, and struggling to focus on the work he was doing, too. We managed to enjoy the day together in spite of pain. Later, when the Anxious Adventurer returned home from work, he brought his own pain along with him. Nonetheless, we all mostly managed to mostly enjoy the time, without complicating the experience with pain. That’s something, and I sit for a moment this morning, grateful for the good day yesterday in spite of pain. Everybody hurts sometimes… Living with chronic pain is its own special hell, but it can be managed to some extent.

It could have been worse; I found enough “spoons” to bake cookies.

I woke this morning from a deep restful sleep, and was awake for a few minutes before I realized I wasn’t asleep anymore. I got dressed and headed to the local trailhead I favor. I don’t have any reason to drive further, really, and this is a pleasant trail and it is a quiet morning. It’s Labor Day weekend, and there’s no one here but me, so far. It’s the sort of weekend a lot of families use to go to the coast or to the mountains, this little suburban trail is neither of those.

A hazy summer sky reminds me that the world is burning, elsewhere.

I walk the trail, down through the oaks, between the parking lot and the vineyards, winding around the bend past mature grape vines, and down into the trees that grow more densely along the creek, until I get to this spot, convenient to sit a moment with my thoughts. I’ve grown very comfortable with practicing meditation outside, somewhere along the trail I’ve chosen, in the early morning. I’m rarely interrupted. It’s pleasant and quite calming. Lovely morning for it, in spite of the haze of distant wildfires.

… I’m still in pain (again) today. Like a lot of people, I live with chronic pain

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reflect on age, and aging, the vagaries of the absolutely crap-tacular US healthcare system, and what it means to balance endurance with joy, and what it takes to thrive in spite of chronic pain. Then I let all that go and enjoy this lovely morning moment of quiet contentment out here on this trail. I’m less anxious, knowing I’ll go back to work on Tuesday, which is helpful. Like a lot of other things, anxiety tends to worsen pain, or at least seems to make it more difficult to manage or ignore.

I watch some chipmunks playing at the edge of the trees. They delight me. I would definitely pet one if it came close enough, and laugh at myself over it. It’s probably not a good idea to try to pet wild creatures, generally speaking. I spend a moment wondering if I’m such a chucklehead that I’d actually do something so foolish, or would I only want to? I find myself unable to be entirely certain. I hope I’d choose wisely. My ability to apply self-restraint and impulse control are much better on the GLP-1 I’ve now been taking for more than a year. It has improved my life quite a lot, because I’m not so likely to do dumb shit “because it seemed like the thing to do at the time”.

The rising sun illuminates the strip of meadow beyond the trail that separates the forest from the vineyard. I see an elder couple walking their dog slowly approaching from the farthest point along the trail still visible to me. Nice morning for it, and I knew I wouldn’t have the trail to myself indefinitely. They wave and offer a cheery greeting as they pass. I wave back and reply.

More housework today, I guess, that’s the routine. Pain slows me down, but I try to avoid letting it stop me. There’s just too much to do, and we’re all in pain (in this household) – someone still has to get things done. When we all commit to doing what we can and coordinate our efforts, we still manage a pretty good quality of life, and sometimes even manage to forget the pain for a little while. It doesn’t do to let things go too long, it’s harder to catch up than it is to stay on top of things.

…New job Tuesday…

I sigh to myself and enjoy the cool summer morning and the scents on the breeze. Meadow flowers. Mown grasses. Forest and creek. The lavender scent I’m wearing, that reaches my nose when I move. My hair feels soft on my shoulders and I wonder again if I should get it cut? I feel comfortable in my skin in spite of my pain, and grateful to have worn a sweater over my lighter summer top. The first hints of autumn approaching are all around, and the cooler morning is just one sign.

I’ve lingered here awhile and my legs are beginning to feel stiff. It’s time to walk on. This day is a good one to get things done… but there are definitely some verbs involved. lol It’s time to begin again.

I got fairly caught up in the work day, even forgetting little life details (like what to make for dinner) and errands that I need to run later (pick up a prescription, drop off a return). It wasn’t so much that work was that engaging or pressing for some reason, but more that my anxiety was relieved and I regained my focus.

…I almost forgot to take a break…

A ping from my Traveling Partner checking in on me pulled my head out of my work long enough to recognize I hadn’t had a break in a while. I got up and made a cup of tea, and made conversations with co-work “colleagues” (about our gardens and the heat, mostly).

The plant on my desk

I sat down at my desk with my tea, and rather “unfortunately” without my feeling of momentum. lol Ah, but this break isn’t over! I’m often fairly bad at taking a proper break; I get sucked back into work too quickly, without drinking the tea, or allowing my mind to really do something different. 😆 This time I’m struggling to return to work (which tells me I really need this break!) and happily embrace a moment of quiet over a cup of tea that is still too hot to drink.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Remembering that I need to pick up an Rx reminds me also that my Ozempic wasn’t available on time, and that I’m now two days late on it, and potentially beginning to feel the effects of not taking it (for the first time in more than a year). I’m annoyed about it. I submitted my refill request fully a week before I needed it, but the pharmacy didn’t have it in stock, even days later after ordering it. They told me to come back Monday, but didn’t have it then and assured me it would be in on Tuesday (today). I’ve lost trust and I’m vexed. But, I guess things could be worse. (Nearly always.) Another breath becomes a sigh… I take a sip of my tea and think my thoughts.

…I really want a nap… Or noodles… 😂 Or… something.

The glare of the midday summer sun reflecting into my eyes from the parking lot below gives me a headache. I get up and close the blinds. There’s work to do. I sip my tea and consider beginning again.

I’m not sure “where my head is at” this morning. I’m feeling a bit low. It’s a rainy morning, but also a pleasant one, mild, lush, and lovely. I slept well. It’s Spring. Roses are blooming. Birds play in the pear trees beyond the window of my studio. My work calendar is not overly loaded. It’s a fairly routine work day as things stand now. Nonetheless… I feel a bit disengaged, and… yeah. “Low” describes it well. I could as easily curl up in a blanket and weep for awhile as finish this cup of coffee, go to this next meeting, and tackle this work day.

I have another sip of my coffee, and stare out the window awhile. The chemistry of being human is sometimes complicated stuff… it’s not always about anything “real”… or, at least no more real than that. It’s certainly not “personal”, beyond being this one person’s experience.

I keep trying to shrug it off. I change the music I am listening to (“change your playlist; change your mind?”). Somehow, I manage to select more music that seems to underscore the mood, instead of changing it. I feel rather as if my actual physical body does not want to feel differently than I feel now; I resist the attempt to change how I feel, again and again.

Another sip of coffee. Another breath. Another moment to begin again…

…again.

I suppose I’ll just keep at it. I already know, in advance, that this too will pass. 🙂

I woke feeling strangely out-of-sorts, not quite cross, but not feeling buoyant, merry, or joyful. I rested well. I even slept in and woke some time after the sun was heaving himself into the sky again. My coffee tastes good, and for the moment I am not in any noteworthy amount of pain. I feel subdued, nonetheless, and not as enticed by the prospect of the morning as I have generally grown to be. I can’t quite force an understanding smile, though the intent to have one is there…

My traveling partner arrived last night later than he often does. It’s been a busy week, and he’s got busy days to come, in preparation for an upcoming festival. It’s still days away, and it’s likely we’ll see each other once or twice before he departs. He’s busy getting ahead on work in order to vacation comfortably and he made the choice to return home at the end of the evening, rather than stay over with me. There’s no stress in that, no aggravation, no sense that I am in any way less important to him – but I miss him on this sunny Friday morning. There’s something about sharing our morning coffee that isn’t like any other moment.

I’m not yet entirely awake. I sat down to write first, because missing my traveling partner had overcome me, before I woke. My routines broke with my implicit expectations. I sip my coffee and wonder about the day… the song in my head isn’t a sunny one…but it is one that I strongly associate with a tender moment with my traveling partner, wrapped in love. I put it on the stereo (the only way I know to vanquish a musical “earworm” is to play the song) and let the tears come – and they do. They aren’t hateful, contemptible, bad, wrong, or weak, they’re just tears; they are a sign that I feel. I totally do. This morning I feel love – just more of it than I can contain.

Tangentially, isn’t it strange how powerful music is? I can sometimes change my mood – a lot – by changing the music I am listening to. So, I try a little of this and a little of that, and watch the sun continue to rise. It’s a new day. It feels good to begin again. 🙂

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