Archives for posts with tag: TBI

Yesterday was hard. Small things frustrating me here, there, and oh right – over there, too. Work. Life. Health. Ping. Ping. Ping. I find myself struggling against tears more than once. Not sorrow. Not anger. My own personal kryptonite: frustration. It’s hard these days to anger me, and by far most of my anger has its roots in frustration. It’s hard to break me down – the most powerful lever remains my own reaction to my own frustration. I bounce back pretty easily these days – except for moments of frustration, those sometimes color an entire day, or experience.

Mornings sometimes promise me the world is made of opportunity.

Yesterday was filled with moments of frustration. The recollection raises my stress level in the here and now, not quite unexpectedly. I feel grateful to know myself better than I once did. My most powerful personal demon is, at least, at long last, named. I have given her a face and a voice and a name, and I am tired of her shit. Frustration can knock me down, but I’m still getting back up, again and again. Frustration may move me to tears more quickly than any moment of grief ever seems to, but I know I can cry a million tears and survive the moment. Frustration may end an event, and evening, a long day, but I can begin again.

By afternoon, I’m sometimes looking at things very differently.

Ideally, I would have gone to bed before 9 pm. I couldn’t rest or relax. Stress had severely pwnd me. I found myself sitting in a silent room, ruminating over frustrations. Worrying about this fragile mortal vessel. Sleep was not likely. My Traveling Partner being out of town also put him out of reach, although we’d spoken earlier, and I was still hanging on to his loving words for comfort. I was still to wound up for sleep. I reached out to a friend, a fellow veteran, living next door. “Hey, dude, you wanna hang out for a few minutes? I’m stuck. Hanging out with someone over a moment of conversation or… anyway. If you’re up for it, I’d feel better with some company, maybe.” “Oh, hey, I was thinking about you. I wasn’t sure… I didn’t want to break in on your quiet time… Yeah, I’ll be right there.” We set an alarm, to be sure he’d head back to his place in a timely way. He’d been in the kitchen, doing kitchen things. We hung out. Talked. My heart rate slowed, my stress eased. Sleep became a possibility. I wake up this morning grateful for good friends, grateful for love, grateful that generally however frustrating or crappy things feel… I can begin again.

Things look different from another perspective. Sometimes that helps.

So here’s me; beginning again. It’s all very human. Health? Well… yeah… the “nothing really” might be something, and that’s worrisome. Work? It’s just a lot, that’s all, and it’s a process, and there’s plenty of traction and forward momentum and meetings and buzzwords… and I’m valued, and appreciated, and it’s just adulting in an adult world. Sometimes frustrating. Life? You know… I’m going to embrace the good, give the side-eye to the shit that aggravates me, and be present, awake, and aware, for as much of this peculiar adventure as I possibly can. What if it ends tomorrow? Well… what if it does? I’m here now. Enjoying this moment, quietly sipping my coffee, and planning my house-hunting for tomorrow. Tomorrow’s uncertainties aren’t even real, yet… not really.

Be present. Begin again.

It has to be enough.

 

It’s been raining a lot. There have even been landslides. That’s something that definitely gets me thinking differently about homeownership; houses perched on hillsides hold less appeal. Mostly, though, I think about the rain, when it is raining. I enjoy the sound of it, the smell of petrichor, the strange changes of scene as storms sweep through town. I watch off and on, all day, through endless windows that wrap the office.

I left the office at the usual time, which is “later than I meant to”. Some of the most productive conversations seem to begin as I leave the building. I’ll work on that. 🙂

Rain in the distance.

It was raining when I left, but it was that gentle misty rain on a warm-ish evening; it seemed of little consequence, and I enjoyed the feel of it. The skyline on the other side of the river was obscured in places by low hanging clouds clinging to hilltops, and a certain gray sort of moving density that hinted at an approaching shower.

I walk on. It keeps raining.

Sure enough, the shower caught me just as I reached the bridge. I smiled in spite of being caught in the drenching down pour long enough to be soaked in spots. I smiled as I waited out the worst of it from beneath the bridge. I smiled as I walked on, once it had passed. It seemed an easy enough journey home.

It makes sense to seek shelter from the storm.

I headed home eager to enjoy dinner. I arrived home to discover I was out of literally everything I had considered making. I shrugged it off, had something different, and looked forward to a relaxed, quiet evening. What I actually had was quite different; I had noise. A lot of noise. I had the noise of a professional carpet cleaning service (the sort with a loud van operated vacuum and pump system of some kind), which commenced sometime after 7 pm, and was still at it well-past 8:30 pm (on a “work night”). The parking spaces are just steps from front doors and thin walls that keep out basically no noise, so it sounded more or less like that truck was parked in my kitchen. I spent the evening wearing hearing protection. It rattled the walls. It rattled my consciousness. It was inescapable. The headache and anger were pretty nearly inevitable. Because I am up at 4:30 am, I’m usually at least trying to get some sleep by 8:30 pm, most nights, or at least making my way in that general direction for the attempt. That wasn’t going to be possible; it took more than 90 minutes from when the noise finally stopped (at 8:47 pm), for me to be sufficiently at ease to sleep. Meditation helped. Meditation (almost) always helps (me) with a great many things associated with emotional reactivity, regardless of the cause.

I woke rested, and in a good place. Tired. Not enough sleep. This too shall pass, like a rain storm. The rain passed. The noise stopped. Sleep happened. Lack of sleep will also resolve, in time, because change is a thing. In most respects, an utterly ordinary Thursday.

I look over the new list from my Realtor, and smile, sipping my coffee; even this “will pass”. Eventually, there will be a house, there will be an offer made and accepted, there will be a closing, and there will be a move. There will be excited bliss, a sort of relief, great contentment. There will also be paperwork, and small moments of homeowner reality-checking-frustration-driving-angst-making moments of doubt and inconvenience, and there will be a home, nonetheless. It’s what I am working towards, and incremental change over time, and the inevitable outcome of practicing suggests that if I simply keep at it, patiently, persistently, refraining from taking a process personally, I will find myself transformed (into a homeowner)(with massive debt)(and a mortgage)(instead of renting)(and the freedom to really make a home that meets my needs over time).

Another day. Another beginning. Another opportunity to make the choices that bring me closer to being the woman I most want to be. Today it’s enough.

 

It’s getting easier. Morning, I mean. The alarm went off, and seemed more just a sound than an affront to my sleeping consciousness. I turned it off. I continued to just lay there quietly, and sure enough, I nearly went back to sleep, confused about the day, the time, and the purpose of my wakefulness. I teetered on the edge of that moment when dreams become more real than awareness, and sleep returns, not quite waking. With an audible groan that seemed unnecessarily loud in the room, the human body I am wrapped in, threw back the covers and sat up. It felt disorienting and strange, but I was no longer at risk of falling back to sleep.

A recent rainy morning. It has been raining for days.

I stood in the shower for some long many minutes, just standing, letting the water fall on and around me. Still not quite awake. Thinking about the rain falling outside, whimsically wondering how different it would feel to simply step out on to the patio, into the rain, naked, before dawn?

Coffee is welcome this morning. I savor it. I think about other coffees, other mornings, other moments on rainy days. I am, at least, awake. The rain falls. It is loud on the roof, the eaves, and the flue cover. The rain falls. I let it. I mean, it’s not like I could legitimately do anything to stop it falling. I waste a few more words, delete them. Listen to the rain fall.

I swallow the last of my coffee, while hastily deciding to spend what is left of the morning meditating, and listening to the rain fall. This morning, it’s enough.

I drag myself from bed with the alarm clock still in my hand. I slept poorly, and only for about 5 hours. The sleep I got was interrupted, restless, and not all that restful. I groggily take my morning medication, entirely forgetting I’d promised myself to take it a bit later to ease the transition to living an hour out of sync with the past many months since the last time the government arbitrarily put us all through this ludicrous bullshit that has no benefit I can single out as an obvious reason to do this weird thing twice a year. Why the hell do we mess around with time? You just know who ever had this idea in the first place thought it was awesome… I always wonder how they convinced everyone else.

I yawn over my coffee, feeling uninspired, and looking for a moment on which to build the day…something small to delight me… something to motivate me to continue on and begin again, however many times it is necessary to do so… I’m not quite there, yet, and feeling very human.

I’ve got quite a few tools in my toolkit these days. I put on my headphones, cue up a playlist, and tackle the morning from another perspective. There is, after all, an entire day ahead of me…and so many choices.

Another Daylight Savings Time change to get through. I don’t feel like going on and on about it, though… so… here’s 2013, 2014, and 2015.

In 2016, living here in this gentle space, I was living my experience on a different axis, in a sense, and DST change came and went unobserved; I was focused on rapidly increasing feelings of burn-out and career fatigue, and the need to take better care of myself in a larger way (a month later I would exit the workforce completely for 6 months or so, to paint full-time).

Here’s today, though, gray and quiet. The sun occasionally tries to break through the gray spring sky. I’ve been up awhile, although it felt like sleeping in to see the clock advise me that the morning began at 7:14 a.m., the indisputable “truth” that it was actually 6:14 am has nagged at me. I could have slept later, except I wasn’t sleeping well as it was, and there was no point continuing. lol I got up and made coffee, and it’s been a rather slow morning to get started with.

I make a second coffee, smiling and thinking about the afternoon spent with my Traveling Partner, yesterday. Romantic, connected, intimate hours spent with this singular human being I love so much (and hopefully also so well); it was time well-spent… I know this, because I am still smiling, even now. 🙂

A spring morning, suitable for beginning again.

I sip my coffee watching little bird flit about between the two young pines near my window. I think about the day behind me (house-hunting) and the day ahead (housekeeping), and wonder how best to also take care of me before another busy work week begins. A simple day of sufficiency and self-care seems the thing…laundry and dishes and vacuuming, sure, but also meditation, reading, yoga, and a lovely walk through the park under cloudy spring skies. Today, that’s enough. 🙂