Archives for posts with tag: ptsd

I slept well and deeply, I woke “too early” out of habit. No stress there. I got up, took my morning medication, opened up the house to the pre-dawn breezes, and gently wondered at how light it is these days at 4:19 am before returning to bed. I love summer sleep. 🙂 The mild early morning breeze and scents of the meadow fill the apartment, and I nap a little while longer before waking to greet the day. A wholly lovely start to a summer morning of sunshine, and dewdrops sparkling on the lawn.

I will brave Memorial Day weekend traffic at some point today… but I might ride the bus downtown for my salon appointment… The convenience of the car is not sufficiently enticing when I fill out the details with the holiday traffic, the fuss and bother of finding downtown parking… I vacillate. Car? No car? Convenience? Ease? Quick? Low stress? It’s a small enough choice, one might expect it to be an easy one. lol

A lot of life’s choices seem to work this way; seemingly simple until I look beyond the superficial if/then, yes/no elements of the decision. Life can sometimes seem an elaborate prank. I find value in shifting my thinking to consider it more as a “choose your own adventure” game… and as it happens, it very much works that way. I make a choice, the choice dictates what other choices, experiences, and opportunities develop in my new, altered, future… another choice, another change, and so on. At any point, I can completely alter the course of my life with a choice. I think I implicitly know this on a very fundamental level, because when I feel life going sideways, spiraling out of control, or need to “back track” to sort something out, I go looking for the choice that brought me to the place I’m in. I think, though, that I’m pretty terrible at being correct about which choices lead to which outcomes. I mean, some are easy; I got married, therefore I am married to my Traveling Partner. Choice, outcome, done. It’s just that easy…only… is that really the choice I made that was the one that resulted specifically and directly in having that opportunity? In being in that place at that time? In being situated in life in circumstances that put the idea in front of us both in a positive way?

It’s hard when I’m existing in some unhappy distressed moment, or feeling discouraged and beat down, or when I am grieving, frustrated, or raging, to be mindful of how much of my experience is legitimately within my control. That’s not a moment in which I want to be reminded of it, either, honestly – like a child, I need to “have my moment” and get over that bit, but once my head clears, and I’ve taken time to process my emotions and settle down to dealing with things properly, it’s generally my own choices that lead the way to relief, to contentment, to change, to fulfillment… to the place I choose, wherever that may be. Life is interesting in this way; we have this immense power all along, but it takes some of us a lifetime to be aware it was ever ours in the first place, and then we’ve still got so far to go to learn to use it well, in service of our needs over time, in service of becoming the person we most want to be, in service of greater good in the world – or other less savory choices. It is a choice. Actually, it is a lot of choices.

What will I choose today? Where will the journey lead me? How will I become more the woman I most want to be? How will I right wrongs in my life? How will I change the world? Where will my story end? Will the narrative of my life be an incredible adventure? Will it be lovely poetic prose? Will it be a rousing call to arms? Will the narrative of my life foment revolution or beg for change? What about yours? Right now, right here, this morning – are you the person you most want to be? What will you do about that?

Neither too early nor too late.

It’s time to begin again. 🙂

Remember that day I said I need to get some rest? (Was that only yesterday?) I eventually arrived home from work, bone tired, brain tired, so tired… that down deep, long gone toward stupid & clumsy tired. I careened around the apartment for some little while. I don’t recall when I went to bed, but I can gauge my cognitive fatigue, specifically, by the disarray I woke to.

My cell phone was left on a side table and never recharged, fitness tracker carelessly left on its charger and never put back on, half a dozen coffee mugs left behind pretty much everywhere I paused thinking I’d have a cup of decaf…tea…broth… forgetting as the short evening proceeded that I’d already made something, and left it elsewhere. As I changed from work clothes to comfy clothes, I carelessly left things laying about, which is not my habit. My hiking boots in the living room, my socks oddly left draped on the shoe stand by the front door, my jeans draped over the side of the bathtub (?!), my top dropped on the floor and left there, my earrings on a bookcase… I can follow the path I took, from the front door, to the neatly stacked yoga pants and t-shirts in my closet, back to the kitchen – the cupboard with the coffee mugs was left standing open. When I did I go to bed? I don’t recall that at all, but I don’t guess my state of mind counts as “awake” to begin with. lol

I woke at 5:15 am. I slept in! (Yep, it counts.) I slept deeply, dreamlessly, restfully, and I had no intention of getting up so early… so I went back to sleep. When I woke again, to sunlight streaming into my room between the slats of the blinds, I eagerly got up for coffee… no coffee. I’d meant to go to the store last night. Clearly, though, I was in no condition to be operating a car, so I’m rather glad I didn’t. I throw on some jeans without any particular effort to be particular, and grab the nearest clean top and drag my brush through my hair, step into my sandals, and make a quick trip to the store for coffee, salad greens, and… tangerines. Why the tangerines? Why the hell not? (Actually, it is in part a rather practical thing; they are the right size for a serving without being cut in half, and they are quite delicious in recipes, too.)

I returned home, wandered about the place putting things right, and getting myself organized for a day of… getting organized. LOL I find creating order from chaos very relaxing when there is no deadline or agenda, so a day of tidying up, laundry, and housekeeping sounds just the thing for a relaxing day. At some point, the windshield replacement technician will show up, do that thing that needs to be done. I hear a contented sigh in this quiet room. Me. A side glance confirms what my lips reported last time I took a sip from my coffee cup; it’s empty. It’s a good time to begin again. 🙂

I went to bed feeling sort of moody and irritable, and in a lot of pain. I woke smiling. No particular reason, although I suppose sleeping well and waking rested is reason enough. I have learned, over time, the value in enjoying what is enjoyable – and making a point of it – even something as small as waking comfortably with a smile is worth pausing to appreciate the moment. 🙂

I spent a precious hour or so in the company of my Traveling Partner last night. By the time I returned home, I found myself wondering moodily why it didn’t occur to me to invite him to stay over? I miss him greatly. It feels like a long summer ahead of missing him greatly. lol I will surely appreciate his presence even more when autumn comes. 🙂

It’s definitely been “summer” this week, so far. The apartment was hot when I arrived home last night – hotter than it was outside. I remind myself to ask my neighbors to give me a hand fitting the A/C in the window… then I second-guess myself, recalling the burglary in November; the one window this A/C unit will fit in is the studio window facing the park. The window through which a burglary relatively easily gained access to my apartment one rainy November afternoon…so… Do I really want to remove one pane and replace it with a piece of acrylic secured by a tight fit and taped in place, on a window that faces a public park lacking any impediment to the approach of strangers? How much risk is comfort worth? What would stop someone stealing the damned A/C? How annoying that I am even having this mental conversation? lol More consideration seems required.

I sip my coffee and watch the sky lighten with the approaching day. I start my playlist with a track my Traveling Partner shared with me yesterday. As I often do, I find another version that I also like, and prolong the joy another couple minutes. Somehow I wander into live videos of favorite DJs at huge venues, filled with huge crowds, light shows, all of the everything. lol I lose about 20 minutes before I realize I’ve been pulled in; a favorite track follows, and I am crying. I don’t know why. Heartfelt tears without any particular cause, perhaps just celebrating the strange sometimes fragile beauty of love and missing the company of its manifestation in flesh, over my morning coffee. I have emotions. I ride the roller-coaster.

It’s cooler this morning. The breeze through the open window quickly dries my tears; I’m not actually sad, and the tears didn’t last long. The playlist, and the morning, move on. It’s a good moment to move on, and time to begin again. 😀

Admittedly, thoughts of love are not even at all the same thing as loving, live in real-time, flesh in the presence of flesh, hearts entwined, embraces, words, moments… Not the same at all, and yet… I love. Sitting here in the quiet before dawn, with a cup of hot coffee, and a delicate sliver of moon on the horizon, I love. My heart is just full of it, and it spills over into my thoughts, becoming a smile. There’s no particular cause or occasion, and I am amused and amazed at the strength of it. I love. I am capable of loving. I have enough to share, with plenty left for further sharing. It’s a nice place to be in life.

My smile falters a moment to recall other experiences, other times in my own life, other lives altogether – moments lacking in love. I breathe. I relax. This immense capacity to love is not so easily defeated. 🙂

I sip my coffee, contentedly, and still aware that there exists suffering elsewhere. Even aware that in some future moment, I too will suffer further. Perhaps even later tonight, when I return home to a swelteringly hot stuffy closed-up box of an apartment, unshaded, lacking in any feature specific to cooling, and an 87 degree day just beginning to cool down. lol It’s forecasted to be a hot summer day today. I am trying to cool the apartment down this morning, before I leave for work. The dawn begins to break, amber and orange hues, no hint of mauve, pink, or violet; even the sunrise looks just the sort one would expect on a hot day.

The wind shifts and a refreshing cool breeze blows in from the marsh. I am grateful for the brief chill that lifts the hairs on my arm for a moment.

The calendar suggested, yesterday, that I might hear from my Traveling Partner before the night ended. I didn’t though. I haven’t yet started to worry, and may not for some time. He did not prepare the calendar event, and my understanding of his calendar is not calibrated to other event hosts’ ways of planning. (Was the end time in the calendar the end of the event, the end of the journey, the end of the time away… some other ending… and why aren’t there any notes? lol) We had discussed, in March, what the season would look like, and how little time we’d share through the summer months. So. Nothing to worry about, really, unless I make shit up in my head over which to become overwrought. I think I’ll pass.

I sip my coffee and listen to birdsong, peeping frogs, and the distant sound of commuter traffic. My turn soon enough. I add a contented sigh to the symphony of the dawn.

The best moment to begin again? This one. Now.

I’d just barely hit “publish” on yesterday’s blog post when a severe OPD storm blew in. Other People’s Drama splashed all over my doorstep, and a tsunami of emotion blasted my morning, my afternoon, and my day generally.

In moments of gloom, there are often still flowers.

I am not the sort of person to turn someone fleeing domestic violence away from a moment of safety, though, and my OPD-free zone is certainly a safe space. I invited my friend in, and started working to help her calm herself; difficult decisions in life are most easily made from moments of calm, I find. I make a point of checking in with myself regularly, too, because this shit hits all of my buttons, and I am myself on the edge of panic being around domestic violence, at all.

When conditions are right, flowers bloom.

My friend and I took a walk through the park, “enjoying” the flowers. To be more precise, I was enjoying the flowers, my friend was moping along beside me, less than fully engaged in the moment. I didn’t really intend to give up on 100% of the beauty and fun of my weekend, just because someone else has drama to choose to invest in. 🙂 It was a lovely walk, and I’m sure the fresh air and sunshine did her some good too. She talked. I listened. Sometimes I talked. I hope she made a point of listening, but it’s not something I can confirm with any confidence. We walked in silence some, too. I did my best to respect her emotional experience and be present, welcoming, and comforting.

I’m not always sure what one flower or another actually is, and this does not stop me from enjoying them.

She figured out what to do with herself in the short-term, and where to go. Her things were already packed up and ready for all of that. I gave her a ride. I gave her hugs. I gave her my time. I came home. The evening from that point was very quiet. Her now-ex is a friend, too. I know he must be hurting, and I’m here, even for him, if he wants to talk. He hasn’t reached out. I don’t expect that he will. The situation saddens me. Not my circus. Not my monkeys. Not my drama.

Sometimes, a closer look.

I slept restlessly, waking often toward the end of the night. My restlessness got me out of bed more than once, to walk through and around the apartment before returning to bed, no particular purpose in mind. It was a weird night. I sip my coffee contemplating the weekend behind me, and the day ahead. Yesterday’s investment in drama was time-consuming; I didn’t get my laundry done, and I didn’t paint my nails. I didn’t read that book I started. I didn’t get much housework done. All of that will inconvenience or annoy me this week, at some point, more than likely…but… what I did do counts too, and comes up less often; I spent time with a friend who needed me.

It’s a journey.

Still, I’m looking around the place this morning and recognizing opportunities to take better care of the woman in the mirror. Today seems like a good day to begin again. 🙂