Archives for posts with tag: ptsd

Yesterday was an odd day. Once it got going, it seemed fractured, busy, filled with distractions and generally just a bit too much. It was difficult to maintain focus on the job interview scheduled in the afternoon, and I was fighting a sense that “I don’t want this!” that was also ‘unsourced’ and more a vague impression than a clear signal something was amiss…did I ‘not want’ the stress and distraction of waiting for the scheduled interview? Did I ‘not want’ the interview itself, the job, the opportunity… or something completely unrelated? I handled the day without regard to the sensation, and set it aside for later consideration. I expected the interview might go poorly, based on my state of mind going into it.

I was incorrect. The interview went very well. This proved to be equally problematic, frustratingly, because I found myself completely over-excited, like a kid going to a favorite theme park; the clue is in the feeling, and I recognized that much of the excitement was anticipatory, which also means it isn’t a feeling about things happening now, as much as the potential for things that have not yet occurred to occur in the future…which is also not super helpful in the moment I’m in. When I found myself escalating in emotional intensity very quickly, I went a step beyond enjoying the experience, and made room for the awareness that for me, this pleasurably intense experience also held great potential risk that when I ‘crashed’ from the delicious emotional cocktail, I could find myself unmanageably irritable or frustrated by something small, as well as more reactive than responsive (considering the existing highly reactive, though pleasant, state of being at the time). What to do?

There was a time when my understanding of managing emotional highs and lows was that it required me to cut off the highs, because it was a necessary byproduct of any attempt to cut off the lows; the basics of Rx mood management using existing pharmaceuticals sometimes relies on this unfortunate trade-off. Sadly, I didn’t find the strategy particularly effective. I still had the highs and lows. The lows were still… yeah… okay, let’s not talk about the lows just now. The highs, while they felt pretty splendid to me, were not necessarily always comfortable for loved ones or coworkers, and nearly always put me at greater risk of ‘saying the wrong thing’. I was still very volatile and reactive, still prone to horrible tantrums, prolonged crying jags, confrontational levels of irritability…and on those medications, although the difficult days were somewhat less difficult, and possibly less frequent…so were the good days both less enjoyable, and less frequent. It wasn’t working for me…and mid-way through 2013, my strategy had changed/was changing a lot, in favor of learning to be more mindful, and to treat myself with greater care and consideration. It has changed a lot of things for me. It changed my yesterday.

Still the most powerful Rx for treating the chaos within...

Still the most powerful Rx for treating the chaos within…

Yesterday, feeling the surging excitement and finding myself restless, filled with nervous energy I struggled to harness productively, and concerned by the potential for my mood to crash suddenly, I put myself on pause and emailed my partner that I’d be going offline for awhile and difficult to reach (good expectation-setting prevents needless worry). I practiced the one and (currently) only practice that addresses an escalated state of over-enthusiasm, child-like extreme excitement, and eagerness run amok and becoming chaos; I took a seat on my meditation cushion, no distractions, no agenda, no music, no plans. I meditated. Nothing fancy; I focused on my breath, and brought my mind back each time it wandered, with patience and genial contentment, and without frustration. I failed a lot. I began again each time. My mind would wander. I’d reel it back in. I fussed and fidgeted. I calmed myself and began again. It works. It’s easier over time. In this case, easier over about 2 hours time, which I followed with a leisurely soak in a deep hot bath with Epsom salts. (Looking back on that, reversing the order may have been a more efficient choice…)

It wasn’t as if there weren’t things I could be doing. Now I could do them. I finished off the tasks I’d planned for the day, and enjoyed a gentle evening, having regained a sense of perspective and calm. I smile now, thinking that there are no doubt people who would balk at the mere suggestion that meditation might take 2 hours of time out of the evening, or away from their family, or any number of other reasons it’s too much time to invest in one’s self… but… 2 hours? The length of a movie? The amount of time typically consumed watching back to back TV shows that won’t even linger in memory? Seriously? And for pharmaceutical-free mood management and mental health support? Seems worth it to me. (What do I know? I am not an educated mental health professional. I’m not a scientist, or clinician. It’s an opinion, relevant entirely to my own experience… Your results may vary. Mine do. But… seems worth trying. Maybe trying again.)

The evening wasn’t fancy, but it also wasn’t broken. It was a lovely quiet one. I enjoyed the evening as it began to wind down.

Yesterday's sunshine.

“The Alchemyst” blooming in yesterday’s sunshine.

This morning I woke gently, and without much pain. It seems an ordinary and pleasant morning. I smile noticing that those two qualities are now paired in my experience day-to-day: ordinary and pleasant. I’m not sure when that change occurred. “When” doesn’t matter as much as that it is a thing that exists now. Incremental change over time is worth the practicing, worth the self-care, worth the attention to details that matter to no one but me in the moment – and it’s worth being patient for. There are still verbs involved. I know I’ll likely still have difficult dark days when I struggle to choose well, even when I see the choice that will serve me best spelled out in front of me. I’ll begin again. No doubt it will be necessary to begin again sometime after that, too. It’s ‘practice’ because there is no ‘perfect’; it is the nature of journeys to continue. I’m okay with that. 🙂

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

I don’t know what today holds… Most likely it will be enough. 🙂

This morning is a pleasant one, if a bit…odd. I woke at my usual weekday time, although had I chosen to or been so inclined sleeping in was totally an option. I dithered a bit over my morning ‘routine’ – nothing feels entirely routine right now. I am in the midst of change. I made my coffee, started the dishwasher, and sat down to write… an hour ago. Since then, I have been quietly sitting here sipping my coffee and not doing much of anything else. Just… sitting here contentedly sipping my coffee, and watching the dawn slowly develop on the other side of the window. No words.

I have an item or two on my list of things to do today. None of it seems discussion-worthy or out of the ordinary in any way.

My appointments yesterday were that combination of concerning and reassuring that doctor’s appointments so often are, and those too seem generally lacking in interest and not especially share-worthy.

On the horizon, a vast realm of choice, change, chance, and opportunity… and I’ve only begun to attempt to sort it all out. Discussion, at this point, would be a bit premature.

The first wild roses of the spring.

The first wild roses of the spring.

So. Here I am this morning. No words. (It took me a bit more than 200 of them to say so…) Today is a good day to be present for each moment, and to live them – before I discuss them. 🙂

…I woke this morning feeling especially appreciate of leisure time in the mornings, very aware that the future may be built on a different routine. My anxiety comes and goes, in general, and seems more or less well-managed, though I’d be more than happy to dispense with it entirely and simply be. I’m still working on that one.

I sat down at my desk with some thoughts in mind, and a very good cup of coffee, and was immediately thwarted by The Grand Distraction – no, not Facebook, but close; Google. Yep. Google politely advised me that I had exceeded my storage limit between going to bed and waking up… (wth??) and I was sternly warned by an alarming red font, bold, and highlighted, that I was at risk of not being able to send or receive email!

Now, realistically, that’s not much of a legitimate crisis, and could have been managed at some point other than ‘now’ – but I am not wired that way, and all the practice over many years has not yet changed my lack of impulse control in some areas much at all… I immediately went into overdrive, deleting redundant files, cached images, copies of copies, archives duplicated elsewhere, saved folders of unsorted zipped images… until…at last… Google grudgingly admitted I am once again under my limit. It was not all that mysterious; I had the benefit of “50 Gigs of free storage with the purchase of a…”, and recently relied upon that to copy precious files while my OS was updated – just in case – and entirely overlooked deleting those copies, and then… last night… my “50 Gigs of free storage [for one year]…” expired. Check the fine print. 🙂

Life is full of fine print. Be sure to read it. 🙂

Much of my leisurely morning is… gone. Filled. Used up. Completed. It is in the past, already. I’m pretty certain I didn’t put the time to the best possible use – or the most fulfilling. I’m irked with Google over it, although it is hardly their issue that I still react as often as I respond to life’s small challenges. There’s a lesson worth studying there.

Today is an ordinary enough work day. My last day at my current job will be Friday. Feels a bit strange to simply say so. Choosing to make this change is more than a little scary, too. I want to feel more certain that I am doing ‘the right thing’… but… there are more than a few ‘right things’ I could choose to do, each very dependent on how I view the circumstances, the options, the opportunities, and what matters most.  What does matter most? Is it healthcare – or cash flow? Is it contentment – or financial gain? Is it fulfillment – or being prepared for retirement? Is it meeting my own needs over time – or providing for my family now? Is it “always” a choice?  (Quick answer – no; most uses of ‘always’ or ‘never’ can be safely assumed to be hyperbole, resulting in logical fallacy, being immediately ‘not true’ because it takes just one exception to disprove them. Still…always a best practice to test your assumptions. There. Enjoy that.)

Life goes on about its business in a mostly very usual way, in spite of the fierce storm of change so imminent on my horizon. I find myself generally fairly calm, hopeful that ‘it all works out’… getting enough leisure to take care of me, finding out my health concerns may be more easily addressed than I feared perhaps, then conveniently falling into a dream job well before cash reserves run out… I know one thing – there are verbs involved.

Although it was a busy day, there was time for the garden. "Baby Love" blooms first this year.

Although it was a busy day, there was time for the garden. “Baby Love” blooms first this year.

Today is a good day to recognize that change is, and to enjoy ‘now’.

This morning is quiet. The noise of the trains coming and going in the distance seems muted. The traffic on the nearby busy street is still infrequent, and hushed. The loudest sounds this morning are my fingers on the keyboard, and the occasional clatter of raindrops spattering window panes and eaves. I am in a manageable amount of pain.

Change is a thing. I find myself embracing it willfully, constructively, and using that profound power of choice to craft something of my life that suits me better. It is a process that is both incredibly exciting, and indescribably nerve-wracking. My anxiety comes and goes, and between anxious moments I feel… alive.  I noticed quickly that my anxiety most commonly surfaces in the context of taking action in my own favor in any way that doesn’t seem to ‘fit the mold’ I’ve been nudged into over a lifetime. From my perspective, that makes the anxiety itself quite suspect, and I look upon it now as ‘baggage’, more than as any legitimate warning of danger or risk. When it surfaces again, I make a point of ‘letting it go’. Yes, it comes back, and sometimes quite quickly – I repeat the process, letting it go, soothing myself with meditation or intellectual engagement in some other area of interest. It dissipates. It returns later. It is a process. Surely it will take at least as many repetitions of letting go of the anxiety to teach myself the lesson that the anxiety itself is the illusion, the baggage, the issue… didn’t it take many such repetitions to build the experience of chronic disordered anxiety in the first place? 🙂

What better time than now?

What better time than now?

I heard birds singing outside my window. The sky is light now. I hear more of the steady distant roar of commuter traffic, and the wail of the train seems louder, too, as if to make a point of getting the attention of sleepy morning professionals hurry in to the office. I remind myself to get some real down time very soon – maybe a couple of weeks off between jobs, or a weekend camping out in the trees now that the weather is sufficiently mild [for my own needs]?

Today is a good day for choices, for beginnings, for next steps and new things. Today is a good day to change my world.

Sometimes enough really feels enough. Sometimes the choices are plentiful and obvious – but not so numerous (or complicated) as to become difficult to consider. Sometimes outcomes are quite favorable. Sometimes life feels easy – love, too. Sometimes there isn’t much to say about things, or events, and being here matters so much more than anything I can say about it.

I am sipping my morning coffee and enjoying the quiet stillness of early morning. I am feeling grateful to enjoy both the moment, and the context in which I am experiencing it. I am feeling buoyed by love (and friendship) and partnership, and content to be human.

Life is enough.

Life is enough.