Archives for posts with tag: ptsd

I woke up abruptly this morning, lights on at full brightness. I’ve felt like I’m “running behind” ever since, though it is an entirely ordinary day in most regards. Well, not really, it’s a birthday (Happy Birthday shout out to the Anxious Adventurer!). I’ve some things to do related to that event, later, and a plan to cram the full measure of my work day into the next 4 hours, and cut the work day short. I sip my (terrible) (iced) coffee and consider the day, and this moment right here. Things seem pretty okay, although I’ve got my headache riding shotgun this morning, and my arthritis has reduced my mobility considerably (I’m very stiff this morning), and I’ve got a weird pain in my left side, like a cramp or something, higher up than my kidneys, lower down than my heart, somewhere just below-not-quite-inside my ribcage. It’s vexing me. It doesn’t come and go with my heart beat, but it’s also not steady. A dull ache that waxes and wanes in a sort of arbitrary way.

…I probably talk about pain too much…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sip my coffee and think my thoughts.

A colorful distraction

A moment of whimsy distracts me from my bullshit. There are bags of colorful gumballs on the desk adjacent to mine (which is otherwise bare). I laughed with delight when I first walked in and saw them, and they catch my eye again, now. The colors delight me. I enjoy color. I once dressed all in black, and had a lot of “stuff” that was also black, but it’s generally been as a backdrop to things that are quite colorful as contrast. (I learned late in life how much more powerfully a neutral gray background can highlight bold colors – maybe there’s a metaphor in there somewhere?) I don’t wear much black these days. Some, not a lot. I’m not all that gloomy or negative about life, generally, nor am I as serious as I sometimes may seem. I paint in colors. I decorate in colors. I enjoy colorful light. I don’t know what I’m trying to communicate here – certainly I have no beef with people who choose to wrap themselves in black. The colors we choose say things about who we are, but it’s not for me to say what things they say. You do you. Please. Definitely be who you are – the best of who you are. No one else can do that as well as you can.

A happy colorful space.

I think about my office, which was previously also my studio. I’ve decorated it for my comfort. It’s a place I can retreat to to meditate, to read, to work, or just to chill in a moment of solitude. It is a colorful space, comfy and cozy, and too small for everything in it, which seems to suit me just fine. I don’t like clutter, though, actually, and I find that yielding to clutter creates chaos in my thinking and my experience of life, generally, so I like to avoid that if I can. My Traveling Partner knows this about me, and when recently cleaning my computer for me, he noticed that my desk had become a bit messy. Understanding how much this vexes me, and how little time for tidying up I’ve had lately (and how little energy), he suggested adding a couple little drawers under my desk.

What love looks like.

He 3D printed the little drawers for me in colors that delight me and fit the color scheme in my office (yes, I think pastel rainbow colors and lavender, green, and pink are entirely acceptable office colors LOL). I sat down to a new opportunity to create order from chaos, and once again my desk is quite tidy and free of messiness or disorder. It’s lovely. I worked efficiently all day, smiling and grateful to be so loved.

Today I am in the office, and honestly it is a disappointingly bland space. Earth tones, white, black trim, very “corporate”, very neutral, wholly uninteresting – some days I find it hard to work here. The bags of gumballs made me smile. I don’t know why they are here, placed where they are. This space, and this day, needed some measure of whimsy. I feel merry in spite of my pain. It’s a good start to the day.

I sip my (dreadful) coffee and think about the path I’m on. This path that I’ve been on now for some 15 years, I suppose. This path I’ve chosen to walk, that leads me… where? When I “get there”, will I know it? When I get there, where will I be? “The journey is the destination.” I say it a lot, as a reminder that my choices, words, and actions right now matter every bit as much as whatever awaits me out there in the future, further along the path. I’m not perfect – but perfect isn’t the goal. I only want to be the most me, the best version of the woman I most want to be, that I possibly can be – knowing what I know now, and using the full measure of my abilities as they are, and working each day to become just a little more of who I could be. Some days it doesn’t feel like much of a goal – other days I’ve no idea why I set the bar so high. lol Depends on where I am in the moment, I suppose.

Who are you at your best? Who do you most want to be? How often do you ask yourself these questions and take action on your answers? Are you walking your path with your eyes open? When your birthday comes around, do you take an honest look in the mirror and reflect on who you have become, and whether this is who you most want to be?

Dawn comes. The sky is dull and gray this morning, and I’m grateful that I can fill my world with color, anyway. Color that I choose. Color that fills me with joy. Color that reflects agency and whimsy and lessons learned over time. There are so many choices in life’s Strange Diner. So many lessons learned over time. I choose my path, and I walk it.

The clock is ticking. What will you choose, next? It’s time to begin again.

Huh. Just for a moment I had the strange sense that I was completely wrong about the day, and that instead of the Monday I was thinking it was, as I sat here in the office, it was – perhaps – only Sunday, and I did not need to be here at all. A quick double-check of the calendar (and then my phone, and then the tiny date/time at the bottom right of my computer screen for good measure) reassured me that indeed it is Monday. I may not be overly enthused about that, on its own, but I am at least not incorrect about what day it is. lol

A perspective on some orange flowers.

The morning has been a slightly odd one. I woke much earlier than necessary, but got up and made coffee and hit the road anyway. I didn’t have quite enough time to return to sleep, and definitely did have time to make a point to remember my packed lunch, and to make myself some good coffee. Even the commute was somewhat strange and definitely not routine in any way aside from the route I took. I hit every traffic light green, and there was almost no traffic at all. I drove the speed limit, feeling unstressed, unbothered, and unhurried (which makes sense since it was quite a bit earlier than I am usually on the road). The office is chilly in a Spring sort of way, and my thoughts linger in my garden, in spite of the darkness beyond the window. Funny thing; the weekend was quite productive, and I seem to recall it feeling “busy”, but… at least for the moment, I don’t really recall anything that stands out as eventful or special. No, I’m wrong – one thing does stand out; my Traveling Partner rebuilt, refreshed, and enhanced our household automation, updating and correcting some out-of-date programming and making upgrades that had been planned before his injury. Quite successful and useful, and delightful to use. There’s that. That stands out. Nothing much that I did comes to mind at all, but damn I’m sore like I did a bunch of stuff. LOL I also didn’t do a bunch of stuff – I was supposedly “taking it easy”, but I don’t feel like I actually managed that trick. Feels like I just did other stuff, instead of the usual stuff.

Same flowers, different point of view.

I rub my eyes, yawn, and sip my coffee. I still don’t feel quite awake yet, which is strange; I’ve been awake now for almost 3 hours. Groggy. Foolish. Mind wandering. Feeling vaguely purposeless and “out of focus” and caught in a sticky web of random thoughts and distractions. My sleep was restless, interrupted, and filled with strange dreams. I may not “need” more coffee…but I’m sure going to have more! lol The morning feels a bit surreal, so far. And chilly. It’s chillier in the office than it has been. As if in response to that observation, I notice the small heater that was left in this office space at some point. I sip my coffee and consider the option to use it, without acting on the thought. I could, though… If I choose to.

A different angle on the same theme.

I sigh to myself, and try to shake off my grogginess by literally trying to shake it off. The sight, reflected back at me in the window makes me laugh. The laughter does more to wake me up than the shaking did. I sip my coffee, now at that “perfect drinking temperature”, and think about my Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I hope he gets the rest he needs – he has a day of work planned (and specific projects in mind) with the Anxious Adventurer’s help. He’s recovered from his injury and surgery to a point that he has begun “picking up where he left off” on all manner of tasks and projects that fell to the side when he got hurt, although he still has a way to go before he will be “at 100%”, maybe a long way to go (there’s quite a lot of work involved in fully recovering from a spinal injury and surgery). I feel relieved and delighted to see him doing so well. I can’t even describe how worried I was at some points, and I don’t like to think about it.

It won’t always be flowers and garden paths; sometimes it’s an uneven path, an uncertain destination, and a distant horizon.

Being a caregiver has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever undertaken. I give myself about a “C” on that endeavor, if I’m honest. Even with all of my best effort, I lacked experience and skill, and I fucked up a lot (and I was exhausted all the time), and I could have done so much better given time and training and more practice – but that wasn’t how things went down. I did my best. I can say that, and for most values of worth, it was enough – but fucking hell I wish I could have done more/better for longer. Caregiving is fucking exhausting. If you know someone who is a caregiver (or, frankly, a parent), be appreciative, considerate, and kind; that’s a lot of fucking work they’re undertaking to do, on top of trying to live their own life and manage their own self-care, and possibly also working a full time job (especially if they are committed to doing all of it well). Fuuuuck. That’s a lot. Sometimes it can feel like an inhuman amount of effort is required, and it can feel like the stakes are “too high”. Be helpful if you can – and for sure just don’t be an insensitive jerk about the situation, most especially if you’ve never had to provide full time caregiving yourself. It’s a hard mile to walk. I worried the entire time. Worried about the future. Worried about my beloved. Worried that I wasn’t good enough or capable enough – and painfully aware that things could be still worse.

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s just a routine (mostly) Monday. Things are okay for most values of “okay”, and the day begins well (if a bit groggily). It’s time to get on with that. Another beginning. Another day. Another mile to walk on my path. Time to begin again.

Whether or not whatever is causing our stress and anxiety is “real” – the stress itself, the actual anxiety is real. Strange how that works.

I sneeze suddenly and dart across the room to the corner where I’ve tucked my handbag, and scramble frantically through the contents looking for the travel pack of tissues I know is there somewhere. Damn it! Another sneeze, and now my nose is running like crazy and I dread finding myself covered in snot. I continue scrambling through the contents of my handbag a bit panicked, finally finding the tissues after I basically dump the contents onto the top of the printer in the corner. I return to my desk, feeling relieved, then my eye falls on an actual box of tissues right there on my damned desk, unnoticed, placed there by the cleaning crew over the weekend. I sigh, amused and frustrated, and astonished at the intensity of my absolutely pointless moment of stress. The stress was real. The cause of it wasn’t real at all; it was based on a misperception, a misunderstanding, an error in thinking.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

…That’s often how stress and anxiety work; we respond to something in our thoughts or perceived experience without regard to the actual factual basis of the circumstances, and the stress builds so quickly we fail to “fact check” what’s going on around us…

I take a moment to let renewed calm sink in. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a new moment. I begin again.

My Traveling Partner had asked me (some time ago) to help with some paperwork. I have been dreading doing it, not because it’s actually all that big a deal, but because… stress. My own medical trauma and difficulties with some sorts of paperwork has been getting in the way of helping him out. He’s got his own challenges and anxiety to do with it, but it’s mostly been about the practical difficulties with keyboarding for long enough to get it done. He needs my help. I am happy to provide it – in the abstract – but the reality of the stress it has been causing me flared up yesterday afternoon, and I found myself in a moment of headache and pain and stressful tears over… mostly nothing. It’s just not that big a deal. It collided with my awareness of the upcoming busy Tuesday calendar (he has a couple of appointments to get to, and needs help getting to those) and my upcoming time off (which appears now to need to include Tuesday) and my headache, and I just… couldn’t get my head around all of it calmly. I found myself facing a huge feeling of pressure and imminent requirement to get it all done. Funny – not one detail of any of it is all that big a deal, so… why all the stress and agita? Why the anxiety? What the actual fuck, eh?

Humans being human. This morning it doesn’t look like all that big a deal. I look over the provided checklist for the paperwork, it’s not all that bothersome, actually. The appointments tomorrow? The Anxious Adventurer stepped up, agreeing to take his father to those appointments. I took it in stride this morning when it turned out I also have an appointment, scheduled in between my Traveling Partner’s appointments, and which would have prevented me from taking him to both of his, regardless. Busy day. The paperwork? It’s just paperwork. Needs to be done so it can join a queue of other paperwork submitted by other human beings to be considered by still other human beings at some considerably later date. Just not that big a deal, I guess. But the stress was real. That’s an important detail; managing that stress was its own thing, with its own needs and its own steps. A real concern, for a real human being – and I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner recognized the need ahead of my own acknowledgement of my stress (which was escalating and confounding my ability to reason), and helped me address it, enabling me to more easily self-soothe, and get myself back on track. No tantrum, no meltdown. The headache lingered through the evening, but even that wasn’t that big a deal once the stress had been managed. Stress complicates everything by clouding our comprehension and judgment, making everything look like a bigger deal than it may actually be.

This morning, I breathe, exhale, and relax. I slept well and deeply last night – I clearly needed the rest. I feel like my body (and mind) have finally made the adjustment to the change to the clocks (good grief I wish we’d stop doing that). I feel more settled and comfortable in my skin. Okay for most values of “okay”, and ready for a new day (and week). The Equinox is coming, and so is my time off. It’ll be nice to have a few relaxed days painting, drinking coffee, driving beautiful roads to lovely destinations, and doing some painting. It is time planned to be very low stress. I hope it actually turns out that way, although the future is not written, and I have no way to know what obstacles may be on the path ahead. lol It’s a very human experience.

I’d like to spend a little time in the garden, too. So much of my experience in life is based on what I’ve planted, what I tend to. I think awhile about my garden as a metaphor… there are weeds to pull, seedlings to nurture, and a harvest in the future. For now? It’s time to begin, again.

My garden is a special place for me – and a useful metaphor.

A friend asked me a question, and asked for “some steps, you know, some basic practices” because they were “freaking out with all this chaos and scary shit going on” (I know, me too, right?). I said I’d do my best. I hope it helps. ❤

Where does this path lead?

Sometimes it’s a difficult journey, this “life” thing, eh? It doesn’t have to be has difficult as it sometimes seems. It is an unfortunate truth that we often complicate our situation needlessly, sometimes through poor decision-making, sometimes through lack of clarity in our thinking, sometimes just because we have feelings and don’t reliably deal with those skillfully. But, the good news is that we do actually have choices, and tools at our disposal (like critical thinking, perspective, and non-attachment). We can take things a step at a time…

  1. Start where you are. Any journey is more difficult if you are trying to begin from somewhere other than where you actually stand. Honest self-reflection, acceptance, and making a point to test your assumptions and reality check your expectations is really useful.
  2. Breathe, exhale, relax. Maybe you don’t have “a meditation practice”. Maybe you don’t need one? It’s reliably helpful to “take a minute” to calm yourself when you are stressed out. Change your perspective or your environment, however briefly, and break out of your rumination or your stress spiral. Let small shit stay small. Let things go that you’re getting hung up on, if only for a little while. Take a break. Walk away from it.
  3. Take care of your “fragile vessel”. Such a simple thing – self-care really matters, particularly when life feels hardest. Are you getting enough rest? Are you eating healthy meals? Drinking enough water? How about a shower and some clean clothes? Have you taken prescription medications that may affect your feeling of wellness (or failed to take them)? Are you in pain – and are you doing something to ease that, if you can?
  4. No media, no doomscrolling. This one is a small thing, but a big deal; if you’re already stressed to the breaking point, feeling overwhelmed, or struggling to manage the details in your life, I promise you that reading the news, or doomscrolling endlessly through various feeds on your device(s) is not helpful. Put it down. Silence your notifications. Put the device on Do Not Disturb. Walk away from the tether that ties you to constant demands for your attention. Go outside. Take a walk. Read a book. Sit down over a cup of tea or coffee with an actual human being out in the world and have a conversation. (See point 2.)
  5. Put things into perspective. This one is both difficult and easy. Easy to say, sometimes more difficult to put into practice, just being real with you. Your perspective on a difficult moment may be filtered through the lens of the stress you feel, or prior experiences that weren’t really quite the same. You may be struggling with your chaos and damage, and past traumas may be coloring your understanding. Take a step back. (Don’t take dumb shit personally.) Consider the moment from more than one angle. This one moment, right here, is unique and unrepeatable – and it will pass (good or bad). Let it.
  6. Practice non-attachment. This is a practice that sometimes has some poignance (at least for me); let it go. Just that. Whatever it is, don’t cling to it. Let it go. If you lost the thing you cling to so tightly (whether it is an object, relationship, or sense of identity), things might change, sure, but – wouldn’t you (most likely) be okay if you allow yourself to be? We sometimes cling so tightly to something that isn’t even quite real. Some of what hurts us most we’ve completely made up – it’s safe to let that shit go.
  7. Practice gratitude. I’m not even kidding. I’m also not suggesting that being grateful for the struggle itself, or the pain you’re in, or this complicated moment is the goal. Not at all. I’m suggesting that being grateful for other things, the small wins, the pleasant moments, the little joys, the handful of things that are reliably part of your individual good fortune has real value. It’s difficult for anger, anxiety, or sorrow to compete for one’s attention with heartfelt gratitude. Authenticity matters, and gratitude can’t be “forced”, but there are likely to be quite a few little things for which you are truly grateful. Make room for those. Reflect on, and cherish those. It may give you a firm foundation to stand on before you…
  8. Take the next step. Life is a journey. Most of our path we walk alone. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share the journey, but it is still our journey. We’re each having our own experience. Walk on. Sure, have an eye on where you think you’d like to get to, but understand an important detail; the journey is the destination. Do your best to be the person you’d most like to be, moment to moment. Make those choices – the ones that allow you to walk your path, authentically.
  9. Be here, now. Spend less time on regret (the past is behind you) and worry (the future has not yet happened and may not be whatever you fear it might). Be present, in this moment. Now. This takes us back to point 1, you may have noticed… “start where you are”.
As with so many journeys, it isn’t always clear where the path leads.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. You can begin again. Each time you stumble, pick yourself up, and begin again. Each time you fail, learn from that experience. You’ve got this. It’s your path, your journey, no one can handle this one better than you can.

Staying on the path is a choice, and there are verbs involved.

It’s a Friday. The headlines in my news feed are pretty horrible; more human cruelty, more corruption and greed, more vain human stupidity. I sigh and move on; I don’t have time for that bullshit. I have things to get done, a life to live, and an opportunity to do better, myself, than all of that nonsense. I decide to focus on what I can do as an individual to make life better for my family and my colleagues, and stay present here, now, and attentive to what I can do something about, personally. It feels more productive, and emotionally healthier.

…I have a list of things to do…

First things first, I take care of myself. Coffee. Meditation. A moment for reflection. Then thoughtful time spent on the household budget for the new pay period. I smile to myself, thinking of my Traveling Partner and how helpful he was when we got together, sharing his (much better) approach to such things. I’ve come a long way since then. During the time I lived alone, although we were still together, he wisely “kicked off the training wheels” and insisted I handle my own affairs financially, feeling that I was ready for that (and wanting to feel certain I could take care of myself in this way, come what may). Having a brain injury had long presented significant challenges for me in that area; managing money was hard for as long as I could remember, when I met my Traveling Partner. Making and following a budget was hard. Understanding when and how to flex on a plan was complicated. I didn’t make much money and it always seemed like I needed to stretch it further than it could go. I’d been disadvantaged by relationships with individuals willing to exploit my inexperience or my brain damage for their own benefit. I didn’t understand my worth. I am grateful to my beloved Traveling Partner whenever I sit down on a payday Friday to look over the numbers, make a plan, and prepare for another cycle of bills, expenses, and living life. Paydays used to be terrifying and filled with anxiety – now they’re just days that begin with a spreadsheet, some thoughtful choices, and some notes to share with my partner, and the chance to get his thoughts on the plan and make changes based on those. He has good ideas and we’re a team. I smile, feeling fortunate and loved.

I look over the things I need to get done over the next couple of weeks, and over the coming weekend. Pick up new glasses. Get the oil changed in my car. Grocery shop. Finish the storage move. Prepare the garden for the coming of Spring. I sigh to myself; I failed to properly winterize the garden last autumn, busy with other things that seemed a higher priority at the time. I’ll pay for that now. The Spring prep tasks will be a bit more complicated, a bit more laborious, a bit more tedious. Choices. I laugh softly to myself and sip my coffee. We make our choices and pay the price when we choose poorly. That’s just real.

…I’m excited about having new glasses, my prescription has changed and it’ll be good to see clearly again…

I sip my coffee and do a quick “personal inventory”. My tinnitus is loud in my ears this morning, but I’m not in much pain. I’m feeling the chill of morning, but I’m not especially uncomfortable. I feel relaxed and ready for the day. My chronic headache is only a 2 on a 1-10 scale, which is almost pleasant, all things considered. It’s a good start to the day. I feel rested and calm. It was probably a good choice to avoid the news feed – nothing good comes of added unnecessary stress over terrible shit I can’t change to my sense of self first thing in the morning. Being “present”, and having a sense of “where I’m at” at the start of the day is a useful practice, for me. I’m less likely to unexpectedly find myself mired in chaos and damage, or having some problematic tantrum over bullshit. I can take better care of myself when I know what I need. (That probably all seems pretty obvious…)

Daybreak comes, then dawn, and I see the suggestion of a sunrise behind dense gray clouds. A new day. Looks like a good one, so long as I don’t think about things to do with governments, politicians, billionaires, corporate greed, exploitation of vulnerable populations, or climate change. I sigh to myself and get ready to begin again.