Archives for posts with tag: self-care

The air was still fresh from the drenching rain during the night when I stepped out of the car at the trailhead. Drops falling from the trees occasionally spattered my face and hoodie, which I sensibly wore thinking it might be a cool morning. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the rain-fresh air. I walked briskly, alone with my thoughts, my arthritis pain, and my headache. Only one of these things mattered much to me, the rest I did my best to ignore as inconsequential.

Yesterday’s appointments, first with my therapist, and later with my physician, were an interesting study in perspective. I showed up to both prepared to discuss stress and anxiety and how best to manage these lingering mental health concerns, only to be firmly told by both that my levels of stress and anxiety, at least under the current circumstances, seem quite reasonable and even appropriate. Well… Shit. I’m not nearly as well-practiced at managing reasonable-not-a-sign-of-mental-illness stress and anxiety. lol In each conversation it’s agreed that similar techniques and continued practice are helpful. No change to medications or recommendations. Just… Keep managing. Keep up self-care efforts properly. Keep breathing and keep cutting myself some fucking slack, eh? It’s still a lot to handle, but apparently that’s pretty fucking reasonable under the circumstances. It was peculiarly helpful to hear that.

…It doesn’t make things any easier…but it does take a bit of pressure off…

I’ve been hard on myself a lot lately. Sometimes my self-talk is pretty negative, even though I know how cruel and unhelpful that is. I’ve carried some shame and disappointment that I am not a more skilled caregiver for my Traveling Partner, when he needs so much from me while he’s been injured. I’ve labored under the additional burden of my disappointment with myself over not having more energy, more capacity to labor on, more ability to get everything done, every day. I’ve been angry with myself just for not being younger, more able, and for needing rest and care, myself.

…My Traveling Partner, on the other hand, has been kind and appreciative, and generally far more impressed and grateful for my help every day, so this shit is definitely me…

I breathe and keep walking. My Traveling Partner pings me, letting me know he’s awake. I stop on the trail and exchange a few messages before continuing. Time to head back to the car and start the work day. There’s a lot to do, and it sounds like my partner’s son will arrive later, sometime this evening.

Fuck, I’m so tired… A good night’s sleep doesn’t restore my energy these days and every day seems to start with a longer list of shit that needs attention… And I keep putting myself last on my list! Not helpful. lol No wonder I’ve been stressed and anxious. I breathe, exhale, relax… And get ready to begin again.

This is all pretty real stuff. Life. Sometimes it’s a bit much, but it’s better than the current alternatives. I breathe, exhale, relax, and walk on. I’ll get where I am going, eventually. It’s a journey. Incremental progress is still progress. One step forward is still forward momentum. Making a point of being kind to myself doesn’t take any time or cost any money. Worth doing and I’m sure it’ll be helpful stress-management-wise.

… This too will pass…

… It’s time to begin again.

Busy, productive weekend. Even feels like my Traveling Partner and I connected more deeply in some important ways than we have in a while. That feels pretty good. Fucking hell, though, life is a bit stressful and I am so tired. It’s just ordinary human fatigue of the sort that results from pushing one’s self too hard to do too much for too long. It’s a familiar feeling, though it has been awhile since it could “so easily” pull me down like this.

… I woke disoriented, unclear about when or where I was this morning, confused by the clothes I had laid out for today (“Where’s my uniform…?) and feeling the purposeful “relaxed tension” of military readiness – until I moved, and my aching back reminded me that time has passed and I am not that strong, aggressive, laser-focused, mission-driven, can-do young woman who thought she understood who the good guys are, and what the point of it all might be. lol Weird way to wake up. I feel exhausted before the day begins, and there is already (still) so much to do… I could definitely use the energy of that younger self!

…and also? Fuck this headache.

Emotionally, I feel like I am treading water, not yet at risk of drowning, but too fucking far from shore to feel secure facing this predicament. Life is “a lot”, right now. I’m doing my best. Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, it’s enough, but I sure don’t feel like I can count on that.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

Work is fine. Love is fine. Life is… complicated. 2 out of three in the “wins” column? I probably shouldn’t bitch, I’ve had it much worse. Hell, life isn’t bad, just complicated right now. There’s a lot going on, and change is in motion (some of it I chose myself, and while I can certainly question my timing, I can’t really complain about getting what I asked for).

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Self-care becomes huge at times like these, and I tend to do well if I already have firm reliable self-care practices in place that are habitual and just part of everyday life. I’m kicking myself a bit over self-care failures over time, recently, but trying to also be kind to myself. “Just begin again. Keep practicing.” I remind myself.

The morning feels chilly, though it’s a mild 51°F this morning. I don’t need a jacket as I walk, but quickly notice the cool of morning when I paused to take pictures. Sitting here at the halfway point, I regret the sleeveless top I’m wearing, though I know it will feel like a good choice in the heat of the afternoon, later.

I sit with my thoughts. I won’t sit for long. I’m filled with restless energy that needs an outlet. That’s okay, it’s a work day, and my to-do list is rather long, presently – there’s no shortage of shit to do, or things that need my attention. I’m presently faced with a to-do list that continues to grow slightly faster than I am working it off, so running out of shit to do? Not a challenge I have to deal with. lol I guess I am grateful? I probably should be.

The sun rises above the hills on the horizon, golden and bright. A new day ahead. What will I do with it? When night comes, will I be satisfied with how I spent my time? How will I care for this fragile vessel? Can I tread water long enough to reach the shore? (Metaphorically speaking, swimming might be a better choice…)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon it will be time to begin again, to face the next challenge, the next moment, and the expectations of the woman in the mirror. I’ll do my best – that will have to be enough.

We become what we practice. Feels like a good day to practice maintaining perspective, and non-attachment, a good day to practice kindness, compassion and consideration. I’m definitely going to need the practice… I’m very human and my results vary.

…Change is. Are you ready for it? Time is short, and the clock is ticking…

Before I can ever answer the question “how do I get there?”, I guess it’s necessary to have some understanding of where it is I am wanting to go…

Beginning again starts… somewhere.

Yesterday was a very nice day, marred only slightly by a too-common moment of discord that seems, now, both completely unnecessary and also entirely human. I breathe, exhale, and let that go; there is no need to let it define the day.

I was on the trail this morning shortly after daybreak. I had the trail to myself. I enjoy the quiet time spent with my own thoughts. These morning walks and meditative interludes along a quiet trail are keeping me sane. Mostly. I would do well to do more, better, with regard to my self-care, and I am aware of it. I sigh and file that thought under “I’m doing the best I can” and promise myself to give it more thought another time.

Today I’ll begin the work of moving things around in the house to accommodate my Traveling Partner’s son for some little while. I’m simultaneously eager to be helpful with getting him a good start in the community here, and also saddened to be giving up my wee library (and meditation space) and having to compress my art studio to become my “everything space”. It’s the only way to comfortably make room for a third adult human being. I have no objection to making the necessary changes… I just worry a bit that they won’t be as temporary as discussed going into it, and I’m going to have to be diligent about my self-care and making a point to get the time I need away from people. It’s probably going to be a bit more difficult in some ways, but probably easier in others.

… There’s definitely a bunch of manual labor involved in these changes, and I will need to manage my time and energy with care…

I sit with my thoughts awhile, at the halfway point of my walk. I’ve got a few things on my mind and most of those center on how I can most successfully reduce my day-to-day stress, and also how to develop more resistance to being provoked into anger or anxiety. I’m not as resilient as I am able to be when I live alone, and there are a great many triggers in my environment. Adding another person to my living situation doesn’t make things easier. Once my PTSD flares up, it can be very difficult to regain perspective and emotional balance. I’d very much like to improve that situation and enjoy more lasting calm and contentment, and realistically can’t count on anyone else to “make that easy”. The verbs and practices are mine. My results vary.

… Humans are going to be human…

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, aware for a moment that there are no notifications buzzing my arm; I’m wearing a watch, instead of a connected wearable device tracking my every action and pinging me with reminders. It’s quite nice. I even remembered to take my morning medication without any of that. I smile when I recall that my Traveling Partner picked this watch with me in mind. I like it very much.

Another reminder that I am loved.

The sun is well up in the morning sky. Looks like another hot summer day ahead. My step son messages me that he’s on the way to pick up the U-haul truck for his move. Events are in motion. Change is. There’s much to do. It’s already time to begin again…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to head back up the trail.

I’m sitting on this rock, alongside the trail. It’s a Wednesday, but I’m off work, which is a nice change. I’m more or less “moved in to” my new phone, but as is often the case with such things (for me), there’s still a lot to do and quite a few small differences to learn. I’m okay with the process and I have my Traveling Partner’s help, and he’s very familiar with this operating system. I like the new phone better than the old one.

… The novelty is probably good for my brain, too…

Yesterday, just about as my energy was running out, my partner asked me gently and encouragingly “what are you going to do to take care of yourself, though?”. It was a good question. My answer was that I’d have a shower and maybe move into the new phone. Pretty low standard for self-care. lol

That question is bigger than one evening, isn’t it? With my partner being injured, I tend to run myself ragged taking care of him, the household, the day-to-day errands, and bringing in a paycheck (and health insurance) and there’s often very little left in a day “for me”. I’m not even bitching, just aware that I am pushing myself hard.  I have these quiet mornings (and I am grateful), but I reliably fail to be as attentive to my needs as a human being as I am to the many other things I’ve got going on, that often seem more urgent, in the moment. So few hours in a day, and the clock is always ticking. I do need to figure this out.

A wildflower on the trail. A picture with a new camera.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I glance at my poor hands; they are a mess of small wounds from unnoticed near-constant picking and tearing at my cuticles. Pure stress. It’s very telling. Just weeks ago my hands were fine, and even well-manicured. My self-care is slipping. Human.

I take time for meditation, sitting here in the morning sunshine, at the halfway point on this walk. I carefully refrain from chewing on my fingers. It takes an act of will to remain mindful and aware. It’s a practice worth practicing. I definitely need the practice.

Another breath. Another moment. I know it is important to be kind to myself, and to take care of this fragile vessel. It also takes practice, and time I often don’t feel I have. It’s complicated. I can only do so much. It’s important to choose wisely. Artistic work is one way I take care of myself. I’m eager to make time for the new pastels.

… I’m feeling eager and inspired, and also a tiny bit hesitant; change is complicated…

… For now, it’s enough to sit in the sunshine on a familiar trail, feeling the soft Spring breeze tickle my skin, and smelling the scent of flowers. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

I’m sipping coffee and taking a moment after my morning walk. I’ll head to work, next, but this quiet interlude is mine. I’m sitting quietly, looking out into the view beyond and contemplating how I might capture this view in acrylic, in watercolor, in oil, or in a wholly new medium for me – in pastels.

Light and shadow, and an ordinary view.

I am content to sit here with my thoughts, even for hours. This is a pleasant moment.

I’ve tidied up my studio such that I can actually make use of it. Along the way I found an old cigar box with an unexpected treasure within – two small sets of pastels, an assortment of neon colors and an assortment of iridescent colors, looking very much unused since whenever they were purchased. I don’t recall buying them. The shoebox itself is one that one of my parents had used to send me something… sometime around 1995? Older? Old, for sure.

A fun surprise.

I continue to feel inspired by the thought of exploring a new medium, artistically. I picked up a selection of good quality pastels at the local art store, and some appropriate paper, and ordered some woodless colored pencils and pastel pencils. A small price to pay for the joy and growth yet to come.

Colors. Joy in a box.

For a moment, I feel impatient to begin, then chuckle at my human foolishness, because I have already begun! This moment, right here, now, is part of the experience. I smile and breathe it in. Inspiration. Joy. Enthusiasm. Eagerness. Delight. Wonder. It’s quite delicious and I am grateful to enjoy this moment.

I take time to really savor this pleasant moment, and to really “fill my cup” with this quiet joy.

The sun continues to rise. The clock continues to tick. It’s already time to begin again. I’m ready.