Archives for posts with tag: TBI

This journey that is “being human” is pretty strange. The path veers and is not always easy to see, regularly obscured by doubt, frustration, or buried ancient fear. Still, this is the life we’re given and the time in which to become. I sip my coffee thinking my thoughts. If I wander as I wonder, please forgive me; I’m very tired, and I’ve got a headache. I’ll do my best to get to my point… if I can. If I have one.

I think the point I’d hoped to make is that my (our?) sometimes frustrated sensation of “never enough” has at least an element of truth to it; we are ceaselessly becoming. We have opportunities to grow, to advance, to change, to do more/better over time than we were once able to do. It’s pretty easy to acknowledge our (my?) plentiful imperfections, and to recognize that we grow and change, but… there’s that irksome sensation of inadequacy, of “never enough” that vexes the soul now and then. Frustration. Disappointment. Sometimes it feels like a win to remind myself that I am worthy, that I am enough… but… from another vantage point, if that were truly the case, why would I constantly be seeking to grow and to become the person I most want to be? I sip my coffee and think that over for awhile.

…I’m so tired…

My hair is soft, resting in loose waves along my neck. I push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, and run my fingers through the softness of my hair. It feels nice. I sigh out loud in this quiet space and feel the seeming vastness of the solitude, broken by the glow of the monitors in front of me, hinting at life beyond this moment. The big office windows display the park below me, still dressed up in holiday lights. They contrast merrily with the pre-dawn darkness. It’ll be awhile before daybreak arrives. It’s early. I sip my coffee and watch the occasional car make the turns around the park. It takes up one city block, with parking on all sides. At this early hour, there’s not much going on down there, and not much to see. the condo tower on the opposite side of the park has more lights on than usual, and many of those have holiday lights. Pretty. I sit and think, and sip coffee, and breathe. This moment, here? It’s enough. I enjoy it for awhile.

I woke “too early” this morning, and I’ve not had enough sleep, and the sleep I did get was restless and interrupted. My tracker seems to think I managed to get almost 5 hours of sleep, but it was broken up into unsatisfyingly short fragments of the night, the longest of those being just about 3 hours. I’m not in a bad mood, though, and today is off to a better start than yesterday. I keep drinking this coffee. I grab a bottle of water from the beverage cooler and start drinking that, too. I smile to myself, remembering that this new day is filled with all the promise of every new day; it is new. A chance to do more/better, to do differently, to make what matters most the real priority – and to sort out what that is, to me, today.

…A chance to be the person I most want to be…

Yesterday evening my Traveling Partner got super annoyed with me over me being a bad listener. (I’m not going to argue that point, frankly I struggle with interrupting people on this whole other level that goes well beyond “poor listening”, and I continue to work on it – it’s a brain injury thing, nonetheless there is value in doing better.) He was feeling mad and hurt and not heard. I think we mostly worked through that. Along the way he shared two videos with me about listening, both are quite good so I’ll share them here, too (and a couple others I have bookmarked). I think we could all stand to improve on how well we listen, you know?

I keep working on being a good listener. Having a brain injury is a pretty notable stumbling block on this path, but no one said the path would be well-paved, and brightly illuminated, eh? Generally speaking, working on something is easier if you at least know it’s a problem… but… in this instance, I’ve known for ages, and I still struggle. I keep at it. Small incremental changes over time are worth the effort.

I guess that’s the point; there are verbs involved. Results will vary. The value in any given practice is in those small incremental changes, which do add up. There is no “perfection”. Achieve one goal, and there’s another just on the horizon. Another step on the path. More to practice. That “never enough” feeling is annoying, to be sure, and it’s a sign of frustration, and perhaps fatigue. There’s more to self-care than diet and fitness and a good night’s sleep (Although, right about now, a really good night’s sleep would be a win). Learning to be a good listener is an important social skill, worthy of practice. Balancing “all the things” is what eases that “never enough” feeling… because the hours of the day are finite. Life is finite. It’s important to make room for self-care alongside the being and the becoming.

I sip my coffee and yawn. I’ve lost the thread of my thoughts… and it’s already time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and hoping to shake off this relatively shitty mood, soon. I woke early, ahead of my alarm, and started the day with my first interaction being with my Traveling Partner, who isn’t feeling himself (injured, still recovering), and was not in a great mood (also up quite a bit earlier than he wanted or needed to be). The commute was fine. Traffic was relatively light and the drive went by quickly and didn’t make much of an impression on my still-waking-up consciousness. I left too early to grab coffee on the way, and I’ve had to just put up with that until I got to the office. My head aches. My neck aches. My back aches. I’d frankly rather be elsewhere doing something different, right now, but… here I am. It is what it is, and what it is, is… a perfectly ordinary work day. The first of 2024.

I take another sip of my coffee. It’s okay. Not great. Not bad. Just coffee. I remind myself to appreciate that luxury properly; in the state the world is in, generally, there’s no telling when the supply of coffee will be used up, and no more available to “regular people” than mega-yachts are. Coffee is a luxury. In the present day, a mostly affordable luxury (depending on where you buy your beans, I guess). That may not always be the case. A lot of things work out that way. Enjoy the things you enjoy while you have them. Circumstances change.

Over the weekend, I managed to jam a tiny thin piece of PLA filament under my fingernail (left index finger, if that matters), and although I was fortunate not to break it off, I definitely jammed it right into the delicate nailbed and it hurts. Small thing, hardly worth bitching about, but every time my finger strikes a key on the keyboard, I am reminded of it.

…So… Here it is a new year, a new week, a new day… and I’m cross and fussy like a fucking toddler on the edge of a tantrum. I don’t mean to be. I don’t even have any excuse for this bullshit besides being irritable after waking too early and being on the receiving end of my partner’s own crossness. Another sip of coffee… I remind myself I don’t have to let this be the theme of the entire fucking day. I’ve got choices. It’s sometimes quite difficult to choose away from an emotional experience or a state of being, but… it can be done. Doesn’t generally work (for me) to try to suppress it, “wish it away”, or “fake it ’til I make it”, though. “The way out is through” applies here. So, a positive distraction, an opportunity to focus on something else, a healthier more recent interaction with my Traveling Partner… those are the steps on this path. I sip my coffee, take my medication, and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths. I stand and stretch, looking out at the city stretching beyond these windows and “give myself a moment”.

I take my coffee cup and walk from window to window, looking out at the city from different points of view, drinking my coffee and letting my thoughts wander where they will before returning to my desk to write. A glance at the time brings me back to the routine in front of me. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

I’m tired. The day started poorly, at least initially. (It’s fine now.) My Traveling Partner was worried about me and woke me from what to me felt like a very deep, sound sleep in the midst of detailed dreams. It was rather near my usual wake-up time (about 90 minutes too early) and I could not go back to sleep. I woke feeling groggy, confused, fussy, irritable, and startled. This was less than ideal. I went ahead and got up for the day. I was going to head out immediately so he could just go back to bed himself, although I definitely wasn’t fully alert, yet. He invited me to stay and have coffee together, which sounded pretty good; there would not be any cafe’s open at that hour, and driving into the city without having some coffee sounded pretty crappy. So…

We began again. We enjoyed our morning coffee together and watched a couple videos. It was a pleasant way to start the day. No regrets.

I will say… although I wish no one would ever wake me while I’m sleeping soundly… I sure wouldn’t be the one to insist that someone who is worried about me as I slept take no action to ensure I’m okay. That seems fairly unreasonable, and possibly actually foolish. If my partner woke me at 03:30 in the morning and asked me to wake up just to hang out with him because he was feeling lonely, I totally would. (I mean, keeping it real, I might be a bit annoyed at first. lol) I’d definitely expect him to wake me if the house was on fire or something, too. I just really wanted to sleep (because I already was) and waking up was so hard. I’m not that good at sleeping well, and it’s hard to let sleep go when it does happen. I’m fine, though, for most values of fine. Just… definitely tired.

G’damn I am tired this morning, though. lol Although my Traveling Partner seemed certain I’d “probably gotten enough sleep”, mostly based on when I retired for the evening, I did read for a little while, and I was up once during the night. My tracker suggests I got less than 6 hours. Not ideal, but I’ll get by on that and I should certainly be safe to drive home at the end of the work day… it’s not like losing sleep is so common any more. I’m generally getting enough sleep these days.

…I’m having trouble getting my shit together for the work in front of me…

I yawn and stare into the glow of the monitor vacantly for awhile. So tired. I try to shake it off. I drink more coffee. Even the utterly average office coffee will do the job I need it to do, this morning. I make another cup and make a point of trying to drink it before it gets cold.

I sigh out loud in this quiet room. It’s not yet quite daybreak, but the sky has begun shifting from black to a dark moody blue gray. I guess it’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee “treat” this morning, enjoying the unusual flavor combination of a maple-sage cashew-milk latte. It’s very nice. Rich and velvety on my tongue, with the taste of sage and coffee hitting my senses first, and seeming quite festive, with the subtler notes of the maple and the cashew milk making me think twice about what it was I just tasted. Interesting. I don’t have lattes very often, and it’s a pleasant holiday treat.

This morning I am thinking about forgiveness and atonement. I’m thinking about forgiveness because I was once a 20-something woman of such ferocity and bitterness towards life that I commonly snarled (in response to any suggestion that some particularly heinous experiences in my life might warrant “forgiveness”) that “there are some sins even your god does not forgive”, before turning my back to walk away, radiating seething suppressed rage. I’m not sure I still stand in those same shoes, these days, nor do I feel at all certain that it’s a good place to be as an individual. On the other hand, there remains a certain someone who was once in my life of whom it is hard to hold any thought but “fuck that bitch”, with anger teetering on an urge for violence. Her narcissistic machinations left me damaged. Worse still, she hurt my Traveling Partner and did her damnedest to end his relationship with me. But… Holding on to that pain and impotent rage? That’s not at all who I want to be. So… as my Traveling Partner has suggested many times, I’m probably overdue to sort that shit out and move on. Forgiveness isn’t about her, it’s for me.

Atonement is something different. Atonement requires me to acknowledge the part I’ve played in some kind of wrong, and to do something to make it right. Acknowledgement. Contrition. Apology. Reparation. It’s the hard work of being real about being human. Big stuff and small stuff, we all fuck shit up. We all hurt people sometimes. Being a better human being than I was yesterday means coming to terms with the things I’ve done that hurt someone else or created real harm, and doing something to set things right.

…I see a lot of thoughtful self-reflection and contemplation coming my way…

What about when the forgiveness is self-forgiveness? What about when the wrongs were against myself – how do I atone for those hurts, too? How much of this is about me, and how much is in pursuit of healthier relationships and a better world, generally? (Does that matter, at all?)

I sip my delicious latte and think my thoughts. Soon it will be time to put some kind thinking into action. Then I’ll begin again.

Mere hours later, I’m working through tears on a shitty gray rainy day wondering why the fuck I even bother to try. Emotional weather. Stormy. Rainy. Disappointing. Gray. On top of it, my coffee tastes like shit, and it’s hard to see my computer screen through all the fucking tears. Fucking humans, man. The pointless bullshit and struggling and chaos and damage are a big fucking buzzkill.

…None of this changes the meaning or value of the words I wrote earlier this morning, I just “can’t feel it” right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that it’ll pass, through the tears, and in spite of the shitty cup of coffee. What went wrong? Doesn’t matter. Human bullshit, mostly my own. Not all of it, but mostly. Can’t do anything about anyone else’s crap – that’s their own to wade through and deal with. I’ve got mine. More than enough to have to manage. The fucking tears though – I did not need this. Fortunately, most of my meetings are virtual meetings through Zoom or Google, and I can turn my camera off, and did (although usually I don’t, so it still ends up being a potential “tell” of something being amiss).

I try not to over think things. I try to let small shit stay small. I try to let go of my bullshit and baggage. I drink my shitty cup of coffee and reflect on it as a metaphor for this shitty moment.

Next I’ll work on beginning again.