Archives for posts with tag: TBI

This morning I woke gently, and having planned to work from home today, I dressed without rushing at all, expecting to go for my walk and return to my desk at home afterward. My Traveling Partner was already up – which is not completely unusual, but it’s rare enough that I inquired about whether he’d rather I worked in the office today, so he could maybe get some additional rest a little later.

…The commute to the office was ordinary in every way. Not much traffic. Beautiful sunrise. The morning skittered sideways unexpectedly as soon as the car was parked. Dumb stuff; I dropped my keys and they managed to fall under the car, forcing me to get down on the ground to retrieve them (immediately regretting my choice of parking spot for reasons I won’t go into). I broke a nail getting back up. I dropped my handbag as I entered the elevator, resulting in dumping about half the contents on the floor. From there, it turned out my password had expired in the door-lock app for the office door, requiring a password reset and considerable fumbling with my device. I finally get to my desk, but I can’t log into my tools; updates, password resets, tool and system access changes… it seemed like everything that could slow me down was queued up to do so this morning. Hell, the router in the office had gotten knocked to the floor sometime over the weekend, and when it was put back, apparently, it wasn’t checked to ensure it was actually still on! So, on top of all that other bullshit, I also had to troubleshoot the office connectivity, to get my day started. Fuuuuuck. An added irritant developed that was wholly unimportant, just annoying; the door stop wasn’t stopping the door. I’d prop it open, it would slide closed once my back was turned. This repeated several times. I finally got annoyed enough to kick the door, which caused me more pain (some) than any damage done to the door (none). Monday morning score? Circumstances 10+, this human right here? 0. LOL Circumstances were definitely winning.

It was the childish kick to the door that reminded me of set and setting, and choices – my mindset, specifically, and where I was, which is to say in the office, preparing for the work day and the choice I clearly have regarding whether to allow these circumstances to determine the quality of my experience. I sighed out loud, swore softly, and let all that bullshit go. I mean, eventually. Finally. Once I had some perspective on how childishly I was reacting to a handful of common enough small inconveniences that had managed to pile on for some Monday “fun” (for some values of “fun”, and depending on your point of view). Seriously – we do become what we practice. Practice giving in to bad temper and frustration, practice having needless unproductive tantrums, we eventually embody that lack of self-control and lost resilience in future moments of inconvenience, reliably. It’s not necessary – we can choose differently, practice something else, and be that, instead.

…What do I personally most want to be in the face of frustration and annoyance? Calm. Chill. Adaptable. Relatively pleasant in spite of circumstances. Capable. Clearly this requires practice – and I need more of that. LOL

I grin to myself, sipping my coffee, having found my way back to some sense of perspective. I’ve coped with the inconveniences. I’ve addressed the circumstances. The day is “back on track” to be an utterly routine workday in all forseeable regards. My emotions are sorted out. I’m ready for the day – aside from being a little embarassed to be such a fucking child sometimes, and more than a little grateful to have had the office alone for that. I definitely prefer to be alone if I’m going to be a childish fuckwit about some perfectly ordinary inconvenience(s). lol I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let the inconveniences of the morning become the past, and I move on. I’ve got too much to do to waste time ruminating over how it is I’m not perfect or getting mired in “poor me” bullshit. I shrug it off, and get on with other things.

It’s a lovely morning. The sunrise was pretty, in soft pastels, and subtle hues of pink, peach, and lavender. The coffee is good this morning, which is always a nice detail (if you like coffee). The chaos of the morning’s beginning isn’t enough to “cancel” the beauty of a sunrise. I’m grateful to have seen it. I notice the ticking clock, and realize it is already time to begin again…

A piece of trim fell off my everyday glasses a couple days ago, and I haven’t found it. I’m working in the office, instead of from home as I had planned. The coffee drive-through I like to frequent on a workday didn’t open this morning. I poked myself in the eye by mistake. I forgot the midday snack I’d meant to bring for later. I stubbed my toe on my way into the office and dropped my computer bag on my foot.

All of these are minor aggravations barely worth a moment of my attention. There are no bombs dropping here – a useful observation for some perspective. There was a time when any one of these things would have had me angry enough, frustrated enough, to really mess up my day. I’m grateful to practice other practices, these days, than uncontrolled anger and frustration*. Anger and frustration not only wreck my own mood, but they are “contagious” to be around, and tend to degrade the quality of any shared experience. It helps to put these things into context, to frame them differently, and to understand them in a broader perspective (which is a choice I can make).

…So I do that…

I’ve got another pair of glasses with the correct prescription in them (I feel both grateful and fortunate). I have the convenient option to work in the office or from home any day; it’s my choice either way (and I am fortunate to have that choice and appreciate it greatly). There’s decent quality local coldbrew on tap in the office that is provided at no (direct) cost (and I’m grateful to have it). Poking myself in the eye did no lasting damage, and already doesn’t hurt at all (only minutes later). I forgot my snack, but I remembered my lunch, so it doesn’t actually matter. My foot aches a bit but I’ve got my cane handy anyway, and it is a minor aggravation that lacks meaning (even as pain) in the context of the everyday experience of chronic pain – it could be worse. Hell, I’m grateful to be able to walk.

…Better…

So, I breathe, exhale, and relax, and sip my icy cold brew. It’s not a great cup of coffee and the morning has not been a great experience, but it’s only a moment out of a day, and it will pass. I find the experience of anger fairly toxic – my own anger, within myself, specifically. I don’t care for the experience of feeling angry, or having someone in my vicinity dealing with their own experience of anger. It is, for me, wholly unpleasant. It is also reported to be unhealthy to squelch it entirely and take no action to resolve whatever has brought it to the surface in the first place. There’s a balance to strike with regard to anger. Venting doesn’t work to resolve anger – it just tends to become a practice of being angry. Not a great state of being (or practice), in my opinion, and I like to choose (and cultivate) other more positive ways to approach circumstances*. Gratitude certainly feels better than anger…

I have a lot to be grateful for. I sip my coffee contentedly and prepare to begin again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

*And I do have to actually choose and actually practice! Anger management is a skill that needs to be cultivated and practiced and worked at and… I’m very human. My results vary. lol I’m ever so much better at keeping my anger in check in a healthy way and communicating my feelings with care these days than I was years ago, but it has taken years of practice. Be patient with yourself, if you struggle with anger. Keep practicing. Incremental change over time will win… in time. 😀

G’damn I am so tired. I’m in pain, and I’m tired. I feel like I’m running in place and expecting to catch-up. I’m laughing over it, for now (mostly), because like it or not it’s largely my own doing. Self-care is hard. It requires choices and clear expectation-setting. Everyone around me seems to want something (and it is often completely expected and normal – as with paid employment for example), and I keep bumping my own needs lower and lower on my list of shit to do until… I don’t. Or can’t.

A new day, a new opportunity to begin again.

When I take a minute and put things into perspective, I know that going off my Ozempic for a few days, then abruptly back on at the dose I’d been taking (no ramp down, no ramp up), it likely fucked with my emotional stability and mood management and “sense of things” – and I may still be dealing with that. I also know that enduring pain without prescribed pain management measures can be very physically fatiguing. So, I guess I’m not surprised by feeling sort of chronically overwhelmed and on the edge of exhaustion in spite of feeling that “things seem pretty normal, though”. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I set reminders for healthy breaks. I double check that I have my medication for the day with me (I forgot it yesterday and had to rely on back ups that I keep in the office, most of which I clumsily tossed into the toilet by mistake – it was that sort of day, honestly). I make a point of taking it on time. I take my walk, but it is shortened by the pain I’m in, in spite of level pavement and having my cane. I feel like I’m working damned hard for very little result.

…The thought brings tears to my eyes, which is a level of emotionality that is unusual for me, these days…

I’m suddenly swamped by a feeling of being wholly inadequate and “not good enough”, like, at all. This is an entirely subjective emotional experience not connected to any real world event or interactions, most likely brought on by fatigue and abnormally high self-imposed expectations. Circumstances being what they are, and “good enough” being very subjective, and me being – in general – “fine” for most values of “fine”, I’m fairly certain that this feeling of inadequacy is nothing more than some rando inner demon having its moment, attacking me from within – that’s what demons do. lol I sip my coffee. It’s also “fine”. Not great. Not bad. Just… coffee. I’m okay with it. I reflect on that for perspective. This cup of coffee doesn’t have to be better than it is to achieve it’s purpose successfully, it just has to be available for me. It is that and that is enough.

In spite of the deer eating the tops of all my tomato plants, I’ll have a few tomatoes. Enough.

…”Enough” can be a tricky concept to hold on to, sometimes…

Getting caught up in chasing more, better, or other than whatever is can be tiring and distracting. Finding balance sometimes means making a point to practice a sense of sufficiency in a purposeful focused way, in spite of the to-do list, the goals, the aspirations and ambitions… all of that is immediately irrelevant once the sands in the hour glass run out, eh? The whole of the experience, the journey itself, isn’t characterized by any one achievement or detail, and exhausting myself chasing the details is probably a pretty poor choice. I remind myself to slow down and take care of this fragile vessel. Sometimes that takes more effort, or more time, or more care – or more saying “no”, in spite of wanting very much to say “yes”. I sigh to myself. It annoys me to need both more rest and also more exercise.

…”Finding balance” is largely a matter of cultivating and practicing balance… (I’m not saying that’s easy. Honestly, it’s fucking annoying.)

“Baltimore Belle” blooming in my garden.

I try to lift my spirits with thoughts of flowers in my garden. Far away friends. Upcoming camping trips. It’s not really helping much; I just feel run down. My tinnitus is crazy loud in my ears and I wonder (again) how fatiguing it may be that I make attempts to distract myself or diminish my awareness of it, somehow? (It takes real effort, actual work, to present an appearance, regardless how effective the results may be – and my need for self-care increases with my fatigue.)

…Too much bitching…

Not enough time spent looking at flowers in the garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take some time to meditate before beginning the day’s work. What next? Self-care. Seems obvious, but I’m sometimes fairly crappy at following through on it when I most need to. There are verbs involved. Practices. Consistency. Effort. Will. It’s necessary to do the things, not just hold awareness that they are needful, and not just talk about the relative importance. I sigh, again, feeling frustrated and impatient with myself. It feels like too much, and I put my head down on my desk and let the tears come. It’ll pass. It’s not important, really, it’s just a moment.

The bananas and strawberries? Just fruits. I’ve got some very ripe banana in the freezer for making banana bread when things cool off enough to bake – and when I’ve got the energy for it – and I recently enjoyed some delightful genuinely local (picked that morning) strawberries from a farmer acquaintance (which was nice, since the birds got most of mine this year). I suppose I’d meant to say something more or different about them when I sat down to write, but the moment took me a different direction. Very human.

I sigh again, feeling too human to get enough done. I look at the clock. Still ticking. It’s time to begin again. Again.

I’m sipping my coffee contemplating the busy work day ahead. I’m okay with it. I’m fortunate to have a job I enjoy. I’m grateful for that; I know too well what it feels like to be trapped in some day-to-day grind because the paycheck is necessary and the options are few. I’m sneezing, though – allergies – and not really looking forward to interacting with people all day. Another hot summer day ahead, too, and the AC in the office already sounds like it is “working too hard”, which does not bode well for comfort. Add to that, my pharmacy has still not been able to refill my Ozempic, and now I’m 3 days overdue for a shot that should be done weekly at about the same time each week. On top of simply being annoyed by that, I’m starting to “feel effects” of going without medication that does so much more than provide a little help with weightloss. This medication, for me, successfully manages my blood sugar, my blood pressure, and helps with certain consequences of my brain injury, too (which was unexpected but very much valued and at this point, relied upon). I sigh and drink my coffee – at least I’ve still got coffee in the morning, though I wonder how long that will last?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The lack of my medication is not likely to become life-threatening (I hope), but I’m angry that the medical needs of real people matter so little, in comparison to profits, or supply chain efficiency, or systems and processes within large corporate hierarchies. (Looking your way, global pharmacy systems, and fuck you for not caring about the people you serve.) Another breath. Another slow steady exhalation. Another attempt at relaxing and letting small shit stay small. It requires practice.

I’m not in a great mood this morning, and I remind myself again (and thank my Traveling Partner for his patient reminders yesterday evening) that this abrupt change in my medication is going to affect things like mood (and mood management) and impulse control, and all sorts of seemingly unrelated “little things” that taken together don’t always feel small at all. Knowing I’ll be “dealing with people” all day, I calm myself with meditation, and a few minutes of quiet reflection on the moment and the day. Things are fine for most values of “fine”, and I’m okay in most practical senses of that word. This will pass.

I did try to arrange to have my prescription filled at a different local pharmacy within the pharmacy chain I generally use, and that looked do-able from the perspective of yesterday. This morning the pharmacy app indictes that my refill remains “delayed” with no expectation that it will be filled before tomorrow at 3 pm – an availability commitment that continues to be pushed back every day. The pharmacist said, yesterday, that they just haven’t been receiving this medication in their orders, in spite of ordering it repeatedly. “It’s not available.” (I wonder if it is the heat? It is a temperature sensitive medication, and degrades quickly once not refridgerated. We’re in the middle of summer heat that comes with a hazard warning, although it isn’t being discussed as a “heat wave”… I could see that potentially stopping shipments of some kind, but g’damn, we’re talking about fucking medication here!)

Another sigh. Another cycle of breath. Another attempt to get my mind (and mood) to move on from this irritation… my results vary. My coffee is tasty, though, and I focus on that pleasant detail, here, now. A breeze tosses the branches of the trees beyond the window, and the lush green leaves flutter and twist. Pretty. There’s a clear blue sky overhead. The morning is already warm. My head aches. My tinnitus is loud. This room is quiet, aside from the woosh of the AC in the background. Breathe, exhale, relax… repeat. I still feel bitchy and cross, and I’d really like very much to complain about… something, but I’m aware that it really could be worse, and that as things go generally it’s fine. I think of my Traveling Partner at home, probably still sleeping, and I smile to myself; just knowing he exists in the world is a thought that fills me with love and delight. I’m fortunate. Perspective.

Choose your experience; we’re live and unscripted.

We can’t necessarily change the circumstances we find ourselves in, but we can change how we react and respond to those circumstances. We can make choices that improve our experience. There’s a lot of power in that. I sit with that thought awhile. How would I respond to these circumstances if I were indeed the woman I most want to be? Can I make that happen, in these circumstances, now? What would that look like? What practices can I count on to get me there? We become what we practice.

…No AI anywhere can help you with that; you’ve got to practice the practices yourself, and do the verbs…

Practice the practices that take you closer to being the human being you most want to be.

It’s a new day. Another chance to be the woman I most want to be. Another opportunity to live well and treat others with kindness and compassion. Another day to do my best. I make a note on the notepad beside me, a reminder for later. It’s time to begin again.

It’s rare to put things in order such that some need of my own really “comes first”. I usually put specific key responsibilities at the top of my list, obligations to home and hearth, family or colleagues, because doing the needful matters, and people are counting on me. Last night I chose to play a current favorite video game for a little while, instead of tidying up or hanging out with the family. This morning I’m writing before I do the budget (it’s a payday). Choices have consequences, and as I sip my coffee I find myself feeling like a jerk for putting myself first last night; I forgot to make tuna salad for my Traveling Partner, which he had specifically and fondly requested (he really likes the way I make it).

…Well, shit…

I sigh to myself and make a note to include an apology with my morning greeting, later. I could do better. Very human; my results vary. But, it’s also not helpful to kick myself over it for any length of time, once I’ve acknowledged my error, commit to making amends, and am ready to move on contrite over the miss, but also grateful that I did take a moment to treat myself well. I’ve just got to do a little better at balancing such things.

…I’ll keep practicing…

I sip my coffee listening to a bit of music, and getting my thoughts organized for the day ahead. The weekend is almost here. It’s a lovely summer day. I feel a peculiar pang of nostalgia for long lazy summer days of adolescence, hanging out at the edge of the woods with my boom box, listening to Atlanta Rhythm Section or Van Halen. Funny to feel it so sharply from this office desk, simultaneously feeling the gratitude and joy of living a substantially better life than I knew in those earlier times. Humans are weird. We cling so tightly to illusions of what was, forgetting for the moment the realities that hurt us so deeply. I guess it’s better than being mired in sorrow. I smile to myself, as I listen to a favorite song from a long gone time ago.

Another day, another set of choices, and new steps on this journey to becoming the person I most want to be. I know I can count on my results to vary, and I’m grateful for each new opportunity to begin again. Change is. This path definitely leads somewhere. I guess it’s time…