Archives for posts with tag: ptsd

I’m sitting at the trailhead listening to the rain drumming on the moon roof of the car. I can see clear skies here and there in spite of the rain and the predawn darkness, so I’m expecting this to be a passing shower and hope to wait it out before I hit the trail. I enjoy the sound of it, and for the moment I can imagine life without my tinnitus.

The drive this morning was delightful. There was no traffic. I don’t mean to say there were very few cars on the road, which is generally quite pleasant. It was better than that. I had the highway entirely to myself, aside from one car going in the opposite direction. The soaking rain storms in the night left the highway glistening. Autumn leaves clung damply where they fell. A sliver of moon peeked from between pearly puffs of clouds scattered across the night sky. It was quite wonderful. Still is, as I sit here waiting for a break in the rain and enough light to safely walk the trail. Even now, there’s very little traffic passing by on the nearby highway, and no one else here in the parking lot of the nature park. Lovely quiet solitary moment, and I sit within it, joyful and at ease.

… For a few joyful moments my background stress recedes to nothing and I am truly content, joyful, and calm…

I haven’t been sleeping well. Last night was unexceptional in that regard. It’s a combination of work stress (very busy time), life stress (my Traveling Partner is going through a lot and it requires much from me to support everything he needs), and election stress. I admit it, I’m really struggling with that last one. I so earnestly want to believe that we’re smart enough and have learned enough, not to put a treasonous, dishonest, mentally impaired, lying, misogynist, rapist, fraudster back into the oval office, and that surely – if nothing else – Americans don’t hate women enough to put us through that? But I honestly don’t know. Is misogyny still so prevalent that we’ll use any excuse to avoid electing a highly competent woman – even if it means putting the nation in the hands of an old man so clearly in the throes of serious mental decline? Scary. So very very scary. It’s actually wrecking my sleep, I am that worried about it.

I sigh. I’m so grateful for this quiet moment of real joy dropped unexpectedly into this stressful time. I really need all the joy I can find right now. The smallest moment of delight is worthy of my attention.

I sit with my thoughts. I am thinking about love, and how much it matters to me. I am thinking about my Traveling Partner, frustrated by the slow progress of his recovery, and wondering how I can be more encouraging, a better partner, and what other things I could do to be helpful. Recovering from an injury and surgery is hard, and demands a lot. I sometimes worry I’m failing to do my part to foster a hope-filled and uplifting environment in which recovery feels inevitable. I’d definitely like him to have that feeling. Caregiving is complicated and I still have so much to learn.

… I find so much joy in this relationship. I’m glad we’re “sharing the journey”…

The rain stops, then starts. It’s still quite early. I smile to myself. I’m okay right now. This is a delightful moment. I accept it as it is, and savor the experience. It’s enough, at least for now. Later, I’ll walk the trail, and run some errands on my way home… And begin again.

It’s a rainy Saturday morning. Autumn. The rain isn’t a surprise, the very mild almost warm temperature is. This morning I’m overdressed, with too many layers, anticipating a colder morning on the trail.

Waiting for the sun, and a break in the rain.

My Traveling Partner was explicitly clear he wanted time enough to sleep-in undisturbed this morning, so I’ll take my time on the trail, maybe go farther, and go to the store on my way home. Maybe I’ll stop for a coffee and sit watching passersby passing by, for a little while? The morning is my own to enjoy at my leisure and I’m very much okay with that after a very busy work week that left me feeling thoroughly overwhelmed by cognitive fatigue and quite fragile by the end of it.

When I arrived home last night, I didn’t even make an attempt to mask my excessive fatigue, I just stated rather matter-of-factly that I was going to “go meditate and cry awhile” before hanging out. My partner was careful, considerate, and kind to me. We enjoyed a pleasant evening with the Anxious Adventurer, listening to music and watching videos, after I’d provided myself with the necessary self-care.

New day, new challenges – only, generally speaking, they’re mostly the same challenges I tend to have: physical limitations that need to accounted for, pain that must be managed, emotions to experience and process, and these finite mortal hours. Today my headache is an absolute motherfucker, but I do my best to avoid letting it become my whole world. So far so good. I’m facing more than expected fatigue on less than hoped for rest. All things considered, it’s a pretty ordinary rainy autumn Saturday. My coffee is good. Right now that’s enough. I sit listening to the rain fall and thinking about “the distance between”…

…The distance between “then” and “now”, and how very different life is, than I once expected it to be.

… The distance between what I thought I wanted out of life before I’d lived enough of to know what I might want, and what I want out of life now.

… The distance between moments, how short that really is, and how far it can sometimes seem to be.

…The distance between loving hearts that sometimes develops, though love endures, and what it takes to get closer.

…The distance between two strangers, however close they stand together.

… The distance between now and the fucking election, which I’d very much like to be over with, already.

… The distance between the money and resources available and the things I want to do with those.

… The distance between where I am, and where I’d like to be.

…The distance between where I find myself on this ball of rock and mud and sorrow, and where my dearest friends are.

…The distance between where I am sitting, on this quiet trailhead, and where the bombs are falling instead of raindrops.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts, listening to the rain fall, and waiting for the sun. There won’t be much of a sunrise this morning, but I’ve got this quiet moment, this good cup of coffee, and there are no bombs falling, here. I let my mind wander, grateful for the life I am fortunate to live, and the love I am fortunate to experience. I sit grateful for a partnership that supports my wellness and gives me freedom to enjoy quiet solitary hours. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for.  I sit with that thought, until it’s time to begin again.

I’ve always liked my appearance seen as a reflection in a window. I don’t know why this is, somehow it just seems to be “the best view” of myself, a little diluted, a little less specific somehow, softened a bit… less “real”. I almost always find myself quite beautiful as a reflection in a window. I don’t see myself quite that way in a mirror, or a photograph. Peculiar. Today is no different. I see my reflection and marvel at that woman, there, seen as if through the trees beyond the window, somehow younger than my years, and no hint of the tears in my eyes, or on my face.

…Crying in my office, again? What is this, the 00s??

Things seem harder than necessary lately. By “lately”, I mean most of the last year, honestly. It comes and goes. It’s been the worst since late February, since my Dear Friend died. Yeah, okay, so – grieving is hard. We don’t control how that goes, it just goes. I’m learning more about actual loneliness than I ever imagined I could. I wasn’t particularly prone to feelings of loneliness, before. I’m so very very prone to them now. With my Traveling Partner having the challenges he is, and the one woman I’d have felt free to discuss it with, without reservations, simply… gone… I feel so incredibly alone, now. I chastise myself for a moment; I could have done a better job of maintaining other cherished friendships and preserving more closeness with more dear friends than I have. I enjoy my solitude, and I’ve taken too much for granted. I still enjoy my solitude…but when I need someone, I’m often going to find myself going it alone nonetheless. Often. I’m not bitching – it’s not a bad life, and things could be so much worse. I’m just feeling my years, and feeling lonely as I face inevitable mortality, seeing some vague younger version of me reflected in a window, and wondering what the point of any of this actually is… yeesh. Grim. I ache with it. And also just with pain, physical pain. Fucking hell that just blows. Fuck pain.

…Oh, right… I maxed out all my pain management medication yesterday and here I am today, managing on less, and not hurting quite so much, but… now my mind is altered, and I’m feeling very blue, partly because I did so much yesterday to attempt to manage yesterday’s pain, and I’m paying the price emotionally, now. So… am I actually feeling “lonely”, or is this just “the down” from opiate pain management? Fuck. This shit is complicated. I simultaneously want very much to simply be entirely alone with this crap, and also very much miss someone to talk to about it – and about life, and how difficult some of this very human crap very much is. Too real. Fuck pain. Fuck drama. Fuck this particular moment, right here.

I put my head down on my desk and cry for awhile. This too will pass. Feelings are feelings, only that. Emotional weather. Small frustrations pile on top of other small frustrations and assorted inconveniences; it feels like a big pile. Heavy. Tears flow after other tears. Moments follow other moments. The clock is ticking. Eventually tears dry. Eventually, I can begin again.

Another autumn morning, no sunrise before the work day begins and I’m okay with it. I’ve got these quiet minutes of solitude to reflect on upcoming holidays, ongoing genocides, and an important election. (Please vote, I hope that goes without saying.) The world feels like it has gone mad… maybe don’t contribute to the chaos, pain, and mayhem. Don’t add to the body count. Seems almost ridiculous to say such things, but… there’s a lot of killing going on, and it is being perpetrated by human beings. Don’t be one the killers. Actual people are committing atrocities against other actual people, and somehow finding a way to justify their participation in these horrors.  Don’t do that.

It’s morning. I’m okay, though I am aware of the world, and the pain, misery, and destruction we somehow refuse to end. It’s a foggy autumn morning. The sky overhead, though, is clear and starry. It gives me a brief hope.

Traffic in the fog.

Yesterday was a good start on a new week, that is already almost over. I’m over being ill, which is nice. Monday is a holiday, which I had forgotten, and the long weekend ahead feels like an unexpected treat. I sit quietly awhile, grateful for the small win. I gently shift my thoughts away from more worldly matters, and reflect with gratitude on the many things in my life that are working out well. Small moments of joy and satisfaction. Contentment. These things matter, too, and there’s an enormous reserve of resilience waiting within them. I breathe, exhale, and relax, giving myself over to a few moments of meditation, before I begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee, waiting for the sun. I’ll enjoy the sunrise, finish loading the car, and then head for home. I miss my Traveling Partner, and it’s time. My coffee is quite good this morning; it’s left from yesterday’s very excellent coffee, purchased on my way to a beach walk not too far away. I knew I’d want a good cup of coffee this morning, early, and it was honestly too late in the morning for coffee drinking when I bought it – so I got a 20 oz Americano, black, and enjoyed something less than half of that with the plan of saving the rest for this morning. It has proven to be a good plan. 😀

I’m more or less packed. I’m showered. Dressed. There’s no particular reason to linger, besides this handful of words, a moment for meditation, and the coming sunrise. Very low stress, as mornings go. I’d intended to get a bit closer to sleeping in, but my eagerness to see my partner overcame any potential for further sleep around 05:00 a.m.. LOL Hardly counts as sleeping in, but whatever. I’m rested. I’m content to enjoy my coffee, and this quiet moment.

A productive weekend, creatively.

The time away has been well-spent, creatively speaking. 9 new pastels, a couple of them exceed my expectations and quite delight me. All of them are adequately satisfying to meet my needs. Another 9 hours or so, over 3 evenings, spent studying the art of pastel and a variety of techniques commonly used. 4 or 5 hours spent walking the beaches. An hour or so spent getting my hair cut. Unmeasured time spent chatting with my Traveling Partner because we often miss each other more than I enjoy my solitude. Time well-spent, indeed.

…Not one single nap, at all, how strange…

… I’m wrong. lol I forgot about my unexpected early evening nap the night I checked in. Good grief, I was sooo tired.

…Now it’s time to begin again, to go home, and hopefully to take with me renewed enthusiasm for the day-to-day, and restored resilience for the things that will go wrong – because things definitely will. lol It’s a very human experience.

I reflect on the days now behind me. Did I get what I was looking for? What I needed? I think so, yeah. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Now I’m just waiting for the sunrise, and drinking my coffee. I’m ready to begin again.