Archives for posts with tag: TBI

I’m groggy. I slept less than ideally well. The commute into the office was… fine. Traffic was heavy, and seemed peculiarly fast. I felt like I was running late (I wasn’t) and my timing even now feels a bit “off”. It’s less than ideal, just generally. I feel mostly comfortable in my skin, although I’m having to work to manage the pain I’m in this morning. It’s okay. It could be worse. My Traveling Partner woke me around 2:00 a.m., annoyed to be awake and letting me know that. I admit it, I was aggravated about being awakened (particularly since I wasn’t having the best night as it was, myself), but he was a super sweetheart 100% after that moment of annoyance, and it was lovely to see him before I left for work. The annoying moment and being awakened at 2:00 a.m. was less than ideal… but… in the grander scheme of things, it doesn’t amount to much.

…It’s just that kind of day…

Life is a funny mix of ups and downs, trauma and achievement, healing and hurting, convenience and inconvenience, ease and difficulty… and a day or moment that is “less than ideal” may still be pretty fucking fantastic in most regards, and surely isn’t “bad”. It’s pretty easy to overlook where “less than ideal” actually fits on a curve… think about it. “Less than ideal” is basically everything that isn’t “ideal” a characteristic that can be applied to damned few things. “Ideal” is perhaps not quite “perfect” (and nothing actually is, although some things may seem to get close)…so… “less than ideal”? Yeah, very little of that is going to actually be “bad”. Mostly it’ll end up being pretty fine, and generally okay. Something to think about. Perspective is funny that way.

…I’m still super groggy…

I sip my coffee sort of dragging myself through the morning. I look at my to-do list for today, and I’m surprised that I’ve knocked off easily a third of what I had planned for today, and I’ve only been at it a couple hours. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. The “less than ideal” sense of things is not an indication of success or failure – it’s just a feeling. πŸ˜€

I guess I’ll make another cup of coffee and begin again.

This morning I am sipping my coffee contentedly, and watching daybreak become morning. No sunrise this morning. There’s a massive dark gray storm cloud blotting out the sky to the east, so dark that it almost appears that the sun must be rising from the west – the sky is that much lighter in that direction. Doesn’t change the quality of this cup of coffee. Doesn’t affect my mood, or the tasks ahead of me today. It is what it is. I’m okay with it; I am safe and comfortable and warm – and I’ve got this cup of coffee.

I woke easily, and a little early, and my commute was fine. Traffic was no heavier than any other day, and it was moving right along. I often felt as if I were the slowest thing on the road, which is not my usual experience, and I found myself checking my speedometer often, just to verify I was indeed going at least the speed limit. lol Strange morning. Nothing wrong with it – it just is.

Nothing about this morning is so strange that it’s worth commenting on, really. Ordinary morning. It’s pretty easy to “just let it be what it is” on a morning like this. I love these sorts of mornings; they give me a chance to practice some practices in a “safe context” with few challenges, which tends to make them feel more natural on days when I really need them most. Practicing “letting things be what they are” (non-attachment) and not taking things personally are practices that have a lot of value for me, but if I’m stressed to my breaking point, or feeling traumatized, they can be so much more difficult. It’s good to have plenty of practice, because when these become “skills” and “habits” as much as they are “practices”, then, when I need them most, they just are.

I sip my coffee. I breathe, exhale, relax, and consider the moment. I’m grateful for the quiet. Appreciative of the ease. I watch the dark gray storm clouds move over the city, slowly. It may rain. I’m okay with that, too. It is what it is. A little rain can’t stop me from beginning again. πŸ˜€

I hit the road a bit earlier than I’d planned, but happily so. I got a few things done to provide for my Traveling Partner’s comfort while I am away, and did a bit of tidying up, too. The drive was beautiful – mild temperatures, clear skies with just a few fluffy clouds scooting past on the breeze, and sunshine – it felt like Spring, and there was no traffic.

A great day for a drive.

I arrived at my destination too early to check in to the hotel, so I went from favorite beach to favorite view point to favorite quiet corner, stopping to walk the beach, or sit in quiet meditation on a bench, rock, or driftwood log. It was a lovely way to pass solitary hours, and I arrived at the hotel nearer to check-in time with a smile on my face and feeling very relaxed.

After check-in, I discovered that the elevator was being serviced… so… several round trips from the ground floor parking up the stairs to the 4th floor room later, and I was finally “moved in”. πŸ˜€ I unpacked enough to plug in the computer, check my connectivity, verify my Blue Tooth devices were doing their thing, and put my phone on a charger. I unpacked toiletries to the bathroom counter. I grabbed my book, kicked off my shoes (put on my slippers) and sat down with a cup of tea and a contented sigh.

Afternoon sunshine.

…I woke up later, the sun going down and twilight taking over… my Traveling Partner had pinged me a reminder that a favorite creator has a new episode coming out tonight. I say thanks, and set a reminder; something fun we can “do together” while we’re apart. I like that. There’s certainly room in my experience for that kind of shared fun. πŸ˜€

I shake off the remnants of sleepiness, and drink my (now cold) tea. I broke 3 finger nails getting my luggage to my room, so I cut my nails back and file them smooth to reduce the chances that I’ll end up biting them down to the quick. I make a fresh cup of tea (chamomile), and drag a chair onto the balcony to watch the light fade – no beautiful sunset on this cloudy overcast evening, but I love listening to the waves crash in, and breathing the fresh sea breeze. It’s a moment to savor, and very satisfying just as it is.

The ceaseless ringing in my ears is almost masked by the sound of wind and water. My headache almost fades into the background of calm and contentment. My arthritic spine seems irrelevant in this moment. It’s lovely. It’s enough. I sit with it awhile – as long as I can before darkness falls. It’s a good time to enjoy the evening light before I begin again.

The day began earlier than it needed to, and I am okay with it. I’m waiting for daybreak to get a walk in while my Traveling Partner sleeps. Afterwards, I will make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on things he likes (and can make pretty easily), and then do a bit of tidying up before I finally finish packing, load the car, and hit the road for a couple quiet days of (hopefully) restful downtime.

I spend a few minutes meditating. I look over my packing list for obvious omissions. I update my to-do list. I sit quietly, taking note of how my body feels, and “where my head is at”.

My tinnitus is loud today and I am in more pain than usual. I’m physically uncomfortable, but I also feel pretty good emotionally, and generally quite merry and eager to face the day. Learning to hold space for these very different experiences at the same time took a long time to learn, and longer still to recognize the value in doing so, but so worth it. Being able to acknowledge and enjoy what’s going well in spite of what’s going poorly is a way of preventing shitty experiences or feelings from wrecking my entire moment (or day). Handy, considering how often I am in pain.

I take a breath and sigh as I exhale. It’s early, but I go ahead and take something to help manage my pain. Self-care is important to my own well-being, sure, and it’s also something I can do to support my relationships; miserable people make other people miserable, too. I’m not miserable with pain yet, but I could easily become so, and that’d be a crappy way to start off on a few days solo.

I’ve packed my paint box. My camera is ready, too. I’ve put the Lord of the Rings “Return of the King” in my bag, planning to finish it. There’s very little packing left to do (my CPAP, my pillow, things I was using during the night mostly). I’m really down to doing things to maximize my Traveling Partner’s comfort and convenience while I am gone. I take a moment to sit in quiet contemplation; I am so grateful to have a partner who is comfortable with me taking a few days solo now and then, and who truly supports my emotional wellness.

I smile, thinking about how much I know I will miss my partner, even though I am choosing to be away, and really need this time. I also know I will return home eagerly and happy to see him, and to love and be loved. It’s useful perspective to miss each other now and then.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon it will be daybreak. Soon it will be time to begin again.

Some people are not at all into being alone. Solitude can be nerve-wracking for people who don’t like being alone. I’m not one of those people. Quite the contrary, some of my easiest most relaxed and comfortably contented moments are those when I am alone. I enjoy a solitary hike more than I enjoy companionship on the trail, and even the distant presence of others within view is a subtle irritant when I am most craving solitude. It’s beyond the irritation that is the sound of voices… it’s almost as if the mere presence of another human consciousness is too much for mine. It’s a little weird, because human primates are social creatures – even me. I just happen to have a strong liking for solitude, and a relatively high need for it, from a basic self-care perspective. Yes, yes, I know; it’s likely a trauma thing, but honestly that’s neither here nor there when it comes time to care for this fragile vessel in practical terms.

I’m sipping my coffee and counting down the hours; tomorrow I head to the coast for a couple days of quiet solitude. I’ll have my paints with me, my camera, and I’ll be near to a couple of favorite trails, and miles and miles of walkable beach. I’ll bring Lord of the Rings (books) – maybe I’ll finish it? I’ll sleep in (maybe) and nap (probably), and my life will not be constrained by clocks or calendars or lengthy to-do lists. It’ll just be me, being. I’m looking forward to it. Like… a lot.

…Funny… I’m also aware that I’ll miss my Traveling Partner the entire time I’m gone (which is okay, we gain a lot of perspective on how deeply we love each other when we have a chance to miss each other now and then)…

Yesterday’s unexpected almost-Spring weather of breezy sunshine and mild temperatures has given way to stormy gray clouds and intermittent rain. This does nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for tomorrow’s drive, or the coastal weekend ahead; rain or shine a view of the ocean is a marvelous change of scenery. When I go to this favorite location, I often leave the balcony door open wide to the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves crashing in for hours. If it’s chilly weather, I put on layers. I love to listen to the sound of the seashore. (Funny how different from each other the Atlantic and Pacific coasts sound. Funnier still that they both remind me of my Granny, and times we spent on the seashore together.) Being on the coast, near the seashore with a view of the ocean, really does something to replenish and recharge me. Similar-but-different to forested getaways or visits to vast plains or deserts; they each have something to offer the solitary traveler.

…I used to think I might like to take a cruise, then I really considered being crowded into a huge floating city with thousands of very human strangers and… um… no. That actually doesn’t sound pleasant at all. Too much people-ing. lol

So, yeah, the countdown to solitude has commenced in earnest… tonight I’ll pack my paints in my paint box for portability. Tomorrow… everything else, and a trip to the store for my Traveling Partner so he can also comfortably chill and enjoy some time on his own terms without having to fuss over groceries. The plan is made, and so are the reservations. πŸ˜€ It’s almost time to begin again.