Archives for posts with tag: TBI

I’m drinking my coffee before I start work. I am feeling contented and relaxed. Strange morning. Some sound or something woke me briefly at something like 03:35 this morning. I looked at the clock, turned over, and went back to sleep. The lights (of my silent alarm) don’t come on until 05:00; I had time to sleep, more. I sank into a deep dream. My Traveling Partner’s voice saying… something… roused me a bit some time later. I heard the door click closed, and woke thinking I must be running late (damned dreams) and sat upright abruptly, forgetting I had a CPAP mask on and very nearly dragging the machine to the floor as I sat up. Comical, later, but in the moment mostly just confusing for my groggy brain. I rose, dressed, and made my way through something like my morning routine, before kissing my Traveling Partner and leaving for work. All rather ordinary, really, but…

…It was a bit earlier than usual, and I was definitely not “running late”. LOL Nice commute, very little traffic.

I’ve been enjoying a fairly spectacular few days for the last little while. A week? More? It’s just been rather nice at home, and yeah even at work. I feel… mostly contented, generally merry, and frequently joyful. My Traveling Partner and I are enjoying each other quite a lot. (If you’re in a loving relationship, yourself, you probably know there are some ups and downs, and it’s not all “ice cream and blowjobs” all the time.) It’s rather like the cold-brew filter of my heart is drip-drip-dripping happiness into my experience all the time, a little bit at a time, and it’s been adding up. It’s quite lovely. I sip my coffee and reflect on my joys and precious moments shared with my Traveling Partner.

…Yesterday was a weird one. Not a bad day, and remarkable primarily because it was (and is) more or less a blur. I got to the office, sat down, answered an email before I even made coffee (it seemed to want to be answered promptly)… next thing I new the day was ending, it was hours later, and although I’d gotten a lot done, nothing at all stood out about the day, as if I simply hadn’t formed any memories of the moments of lifetime that had been consumed by work. I mean, I guess I didn’t. As I said; it’s a blur. I see my checklist has many items checked off, and I review it with care; my “today” will build off that list and awareness of what has already been completed, and what is yet to be done… short week, with my long weekend trip coming up quickly.

Last night my Traveling Partner asked about my itinerary and timing. He looked a bit disappointed to realize I’ll be leaving on Thursday, but I set up my trip to maximize my downtime, and minimize the impact to him/us; I’ll get two days off work, and spend just one weekend day away, returning home on Sunday to enjoy the day with him (and get a few things done before the work week begins). Evenings apart can have some lonely moments, though… I sip my coffee and think about offering a Zoom call or something for Friday or Saturday night. By Saturday evening I know we’ll be missing each other a lot. I fret for a minute over whether he’s really going to be able to care for himself (still recovering from his injury) sufficiently well to be okay on his own… but… he’s a grown-ass man, very capable, and would 100% tell me, and ask for my help (or to change my plans) if he needs me. He’s pretty good at “using his words” where that sort of thing is concerned (for which I’m highly grateful). He knows I need the downtime. Work has been intense. Life has been filled with effort. I’m tired and a bit overwhelmed by “all the people-ing”. A couple days solo is good for me – but the weather is not yet great for camping. So, a trip to the coast it is. This time I’ll bring my paints along. 😀

As I finish my coffee, I take a breathe, sigh, and hope today isn’t such a blur. It’s time to begin again.

Life’s a funny journey, isn’t it? Most peculiar. I sip my coffee thinking about the drenching misty rain that fell throughout the commute, almost blinding in spite of the tiny droplets that made almost no sound as they hit the windshield. Nonetheless, the commuter traffic sped through the darkness as if driving on dry pavement in summer sunshine – forward momentum without clear vision, based on a recollection of previous travels and an assumption that the route has not changed. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, and perhaps a lesson – or a warning. I followed the cars ahead of me, leaving ample following distance and hoping for enough room to stop suddenly if that became necessary. It was an uneventful commute. The rain stopped completely when I reached the city, and I was in sufficiently good spirits to laugh when I noticed the change.

It’s another day. Another adventure. Another opportunity to be the woman I most want to be – to be a better person than I was yesterday. Another opportunity to love well and deeply. I think of my Traveling Partner, still sleeping, at home, recovering from his injury. My heart fills with love and I send imagined kisses his way, hoping he is having pleasant dreams, and wakes in less discomfort than he did yesterday.

I sip my coffee in the predawn darkness, thinking of faraway friends, and time off plans that somehow feel rather far away this morning (I ended last week thinking my wee getaway was this upcoming weekend, but it’s the next weekend away, actually). I feel content, calm, centered – it’s a lovely morning, uneventful and peaceful (here).

For a moment, my mind wanders to far away conflicts and the horrors of war, and my mind recoils as if I had touched a sore place or pulled at a scabbed-over wound. I sigh, feeling my anxiety begin to surge, and I take a deep breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go. War is a terrible truth among human primates, and we seem too stupid to stop killing each other over bullshit and profit (at least for now) – but if I take that personally and let the terrible truths of war infect my heart, and my here-and-now moment, I’ll have no peace, myself, and render myself less useful in my life and the lives of those near to me. What a pointless waste that would be. I give myself the opportunity to acknowledge the painful truths – what else can I do? I’ve looked directly into the face of War, and stood upon his battlefields. I will no longer serve that master.

Fuck, healing is hard sometimes; we can’t unknow what we know, can’t unsee what we’ve seen, can’t undo what we’ve done. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Begin again.

The predawn darkness slowly eases to a soft deep shade of blue gray beyond the windows. The city beyond this wall of glass begins to waken. Condo dwellers turn on lights, and begin making coffee. My inbox begins to fill with new requests and things to follow-up on. It’s an ordinary enough day. I feel comfortable in my body, and my pain isn’t much and does not distract me. My coffee is… okay, not great. Doesn’t much matter, it’s a small detail and of little consequence.

I take these few quiet minutes to pause for gratitude, and to appreciate how good things are, presently. It may not always be so good, and it would be foolish to let the moment slip away unappreciated. Aside from my Traveling Partner’s injury, and necessary recovery, most things are really quite lovely in my life, lately, and it hasn’t always been so. I smile, silently acknowledging that I’m definitely behind on some things, because I just don’t have it in me to do all of everything all the time for everyone – I’m quite human. Doing my best often means something doesn’t get done (looking your way laundry that’s been piled up, clean, waiting to be put away for … weeks). I am mostly okay with it. I am comfortably doing my best and also taking care of myself – and my partner. I feel myself “sit taller” – it feels good to have my own respect, and to recognize that I’m doing what I can, and that this is enough. It’s not perfect (I’m not perfect) but nothing is, and it doesn’t have to be.

Wanting to be the best partner I can be, I shopped around for a quieter keyboard that still meets my own needs… mechanical (for durability) and with a very fast action (because I type quite fast). I found one, and it arrived last night. I’m almost eager to stay home for work again soon, to try it out while my Traveling Partner sleeps… the whole point is to be quiet enough that he can sleep, in spite of my infernal ceaseless typing during the work day. He’s noted many times that my typing is very “emotive”, and conveys my stress to him (if I’m stressed, or agitated, or excited, or angry – it all comes through), which is not pleasant. He’s got his own issues, and doesn’t benefit from being twisted every which way sensing my emotions in another room. The new keyboard is an exciting change (for me)… it’s nearly silent, but still has the feel of a mechanical keyboard. As my fingers hit the keys on this keyboard that I carry with me in my computer bag, I find myself wondering if perhaps I should buy another set of those keys to replace these with? This keyboard is pretty damned “clicky” and I know it annoys colleagues when I get going for awhile. It’s not just my Traveling Partner…

The sky has lightened enough to see the stormy clouds filling the sky. “More rain later”, I think to myself. I sip my coffee – it’s gone cold. I sigh quietly, I know the drill – it’s time to begin again.

I’m sitting at a trailhead on a Sunday morning before daybreak, waiting for the sun and sipping an iced coffee. It’s a chilly morning but not freezing, and I am warmly dressed, suitable for the weather. There’s a steady misty drizzle falling, but not the sort of rain to keep me off the trail this morning. I feel satisfied, calm, and content. Perhaps even happy.

I sit with this feeling, sipping my coffee and listening to the traffic as the occasional car goes by. At least for now, there’s nothing more important to do than to savor this moment.

Yesterday began well, and was quite a lovely day throughout. I hung out with my Traveling Partner. We watched movies and shared the day gently. I didn’t really get much done and ended up completely forgetting about the laundry I had started. The thing is, though, the laundry is less important than the time we spend together, and I definitely needed the restful day. Win, all around, really, especially if I don’t punish myself for “slacking off”, which I have not.

…Maybe I’ve grown? 😁

I sit, relaxed and ready, contemplating the value in savoring the small pleasures in life, and the gentle moments of joy. It’s made a huge difference for me, this one simple practice.

“Additive” changes tend to be easier to make (for me). Learning to make a specific point of also “wallowing” in the good moments – even ridiculously small pleasant moments of no consequence – has done so much more, so much faster, to improve my sense of the quality and character of my very human life. It’s been one of the most profound (and positive) changes I have made to the way I face life. It’s hard to overstate how useful this has been.

It’s easy to the point of being default behavior to wallow in a moment of pain, misery, or aggravation, which tends to blow it out of proportion in my implicit memory of my experience, generally. Doing so, over time, creates a fairly profound sense that “life sucks” more commonly and deeply than it truly does. For years I struggled to “not do that” without understanding that a “subtractive” change of behavior like that can be incredibly difficult to make.

If you’re just generally feeling miserable and as if that is always the way of it, I definitely recommend savoring the smallest of pleasant moments as a regular practice; it can do a lot to open your eyes to how common those are. 😁 Over time, doing so has so much potential to thoroughly change how life feels, generally.

Daybreak has come and the trail is clear in the dim blue-gray early morning light. I smile and finish my iced coffee. It’s time to begin again.

I find one of the most difficult (and worthwhile) practices to be refraining from taking things personally. It’s so easy to bask in the glow of a lovely compliment and take that to heart… but… the same person telling you that you’re awesome yesterday could very well be calling you a fucking bitch when they see you next week. That’s about them.

If I let myself become invested in some other person’s opinion of me to the point that it becomes self-defining, I’m likely to end up constantly spun up every time they change their opinion in some moment of joy – or anger. That doesn’t sound particularly healthy, at all. Using another example; if taken personally, shit talk from another room could be a huge mood wrecker and potentially a source of conflict. Avoid taking that personally, and it’s simply that other person dealing with their own emotions (however well or poorly, which is a separate concern). I’m not saying it’s easy to avoid taking shit personally, at all, I’m just saying its a worthwhile practice. So – I keep practicing.

…An insult is like any poison; it only affects you if it gets into your system. Don’t drink the poison.

Human primates are messy and sometimes unpleasant to deal with. Doesn’t matter if it’s that guy over there, or the person in the mirror – we’ve all got “issues”. Making a point of letting that other person’s issues be their own (and not letting them also become yours) is a good step toward feeling centered and calm, even when there’s a bit of chaos about. It’s also easier to focus on and deal with your own issues if you’re not all wound up in someone else’s moment. It’s one useful thing about being individuals; you can let that person be who they are, let them have their moment, and go right ahead and work on you while they do. Non-attachment is another useful-but-also-difficult practice. I take a deep breath and let it out.

I sip my coffee. The day started early, and less than ideally well. I got up, dressed, and went directly to work. I’m not in a good mood, and just dealing with that is taking quite a lot of my focus and effort. I had my day planned differently, but circumstances often don’t check my calendar. lol Later this morning, I’ll attempt to make the drive to a town nearby to get some lab work done that has been delayed by the inclement weather. I’ll return movie rentals on my way back. Maybe take a package to the post office. All of this is dependent on the condition the road is in, later in the morning. I admit – I’d very much like to get out of the house for awhile. I’m feeling a bit cooped up, and it’s exhausting trying to keep up on work, the housekeeping I usually do, and handle the tasks and chores my partner typically handles, while also doing things to support and care for him while he recovers from being injured. It’s a lot. I’m fucking tired. I’m tired enough that it limits my ability to graciously deal with stress or moments of temper, and since we’re both human primates, there’s reliably a bit of that now and then. I could do better. I keep practicing.

…There’s a lot of practicing going on this morning…

I sigh. Continue to drink my coffee. I could use some real “down time”. My last “coastal getaway” was mostly spent working, and was done primarily with the intention of giving my Traveling Partner time alone to work on a project – neither of us anticipated that he’d get hurt and be both unable to work on that project at that time, but also have to shelve it for weeks while he recovered. I came home from a getaway that provided little down time at all, to increased workload and increased stress with few opportunities to get away from either because I was needed right here at home to provide my partner with care because he just couldn’t get around to do basic tasks for himself. I’m exhausted, and I’m very much yearning for some time to myself to just exist on my own terms for some brief period of time without being constantly aware of the fairly long list of things I still haven’t gotten to that need doing. It’s called “self-care” for a reason; you’ve got to do it yourself, for yourself. I’m betting my Traveling Partner would enjoy a couple days without my constant presence, himself… I remind myself to ask, and to check-in on whether he thinks he is in sufficiently good shape to take care of himself without me for a couple days.

In the wintry months, camping is not an ideal option for me, personally. I don’t care for sleeping on the ground in cold weather, and it worsens my arthritis significantly to do so. Instead, I count on an inexpensive room on the coast, near trails and beaches I enjoy walking. I check to see what the availability is like over the next couple of weekends, and spot a potential opportunity. Just taking the steps to check out my options reduces my stress some little bit; I “feel heard” by the person I reliably need to be listening to me (me). I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Sip my coffee. Repeat. I think about other things I can do to ease my stress and restore my energy and plan my day with those things in mind. The weather seems to be improving somewhat, and the ice is melting… handy. I could use a walk. 😀

I make a short list of the more urgent items to attend to today, so I don’t forget them… I immediately feel overwhelmed when I add “put away your laundry” to the list; I’ve been putting off actually completing that task for literally weeks. It’s one task I can shrug off without really affecting anyone else, but… it does add to the chaos in my living space, and that increases my stress. There’s an obvious cycle to that, and breaking it requires me to hang up a bunch of shirts and tops, which is physically painful and also tedious. That’s it. That’s the “big deal” and I keep dodging it. Fucking hell. And the dishes need doing, which vexes me endlessly because as soon as they’re done, I cook something or fetch my Traveling Partner a snack and there are more fucking dishes. Cycles upon cycles.

…One task at a time…

I look at the time, and my inbox. It’s already time to begin again.

I woke up early after a short restless night of shitty sleep. I’m stuck at home because everything local is covered in ice. My Traveling Partner was already awake, and obviously not happy about that, tired, cross, and earnestly wanting very much to sleep. I said good morning, and as little else as was possible without being rude and slipped away to my office committed to being as quiet as I could so he could maybe sleep.

…My keyboard is too loud for this shit, and I find that regrettable. I briefly shop for a quieter one, then move on to catching up on work notes…

I sip my coffee, typing super gently and with great care, trying to be quiet enough that a sleeping person in the adjacent room would be undisturbed. I doubt that I am successful, and I am painfully aware of how noisy this mechanical keyboard I like so much actually is. Shit.

…It’s very hard to write in a digital space without hitting keys on a keyboard of some kind. I chose poorly for this environment…

If a human being could arrive at death’s door with no more serious regret than a poor choice of keyboard in a home office adjacent to a bedroom, that would indeed be an amazing thing. I do have more serious regrets, and I suspect that most people who proclaim they “have no regrets” either wholly lack compassion, or are not considering the question deeply. Just an opinion, based on having once been one of those people (and it was a bit of the one, and a lot of the other).

  • I regret the times I have hurt people, emotionally or physically.
  • I regret rushing into marriage at 18 (frankly it nearly killed me).
  • I regret not leaving that relationship sooner.
  • I regret not getting the help I needed when I first understood my mental health was at risk.
  • I regret how difficult it has been to overcome some of my TBI and PTSD related challenges and the way that has affected my relationships.
  • I regret that I can be such a bitch sometimes.
  • I regret a great many of my foolish decisions.
  • I regret not setting better boundaries earlier in life.
  • I regret that I’ve ever made my happiness someone else’s problem.

Big and small, regrets come in many sizes and an endless variety. Choose your adventure. Choose with care and with your eyes on your values, and perhaps you’ll have fewer regrets? Less to regret seems like a good goal… But, we’re all human, and our cognitive biases alone are enough to ensure sooner or later, we’ll have done something, said something, or been part of something we later find regrettable. That’s okay, though, isn’t it – if we learn from it, and grow to become more the person we want to be?

This coffee is almost gone. It’s time to begin again.