Archives for posts with tag: tears

I’ve always liked my appearance seen as a reflection in a window. I don’t know why this is, somehow it just seems to be “the best view” of myself, a little diluted, a little less specific somehow, softened a bit… less “real”. I almost always find myself quite beautiful as a reflection in a window. I don’t see myself quite that way in a mirror, or a photograph. Peculiar. Today is no different. I see my reflection and marvel at that woman, there, seen as if through the trees beyond the window, somehow younger than my years, and no hint of the tears in my eyes, or on my face.

…Crying in my office, again? What is this, the 00s??

Things seem harder than necessary lately. By “lately”, I mean most of the last year, honestly. It comes and goes. It’s been the worst since late February, since my Dear Friend died. Yeah, okay, so – grieving is hard. We don’t control how that goes, it just goes. I’m learning more about actual loneliness than I ever imagined I could. I wasn’t particularly prone to feelings of loneliness, before. I’m so very very prone to them now. With my Traveling Partner having the challenges he is, and the one woman I’d have felt free to discuss it with, without reservations, simply… gone… I feel so incredibly alone, now. I chastise myself for a moment; I could have done a better job of maintaining other cherished friendships and preserving more closeness with more dear friends than I have. I enjoy my solitude, and I’ve taken too much for granted. I still enjoy my solitude…but when I need someone, I’m often going to find myself going it alone nonetheless. Often. I’m not bitching – it’s not a bad life, and things could be so much worse. I’m just feeling my years, and feeling lonely as I face inevitable mortality, seeing some vague younger version of me reflected in a window, and wondering what the point of any of this actually is… yeesh. Grim. I ache with it. And also just with pain, physical pain. Fucking hell that just blows. Fuck pain.

…Oh, right… I maxed out all my pain management medication yesterday and here I am today, managing on less, and not hurting quite so much, but… now my mind is altered, and I’m feeling very blue, partly because I did so much yesterday to attempt to manage yesterday’s pain, and I’m paying the price emotionally, now. So… am I actually feeling “lonely”, or is this just “the down” from opiate pain management? Fuck. This shit is complicated. I simultaneously want very much to simply be entirely alone with this crap, and also very much miss someone to talk to about it – and about life, and how difficult some of this very human crap very much is. Too real. Fuck pain. Fuck drama. Fuck this particular moment, right here.

I put my head down on my desk and cry for awhile. This too will pass. Feelings are feelings, only that. Emotional weather. Small frustrations pile on top of other small frustrations and assorted inconveniences; it feels like a big pile. Heavy. Tears flow after other tears. Moments follow other moments. The clock is ticking. Eventually tears dry. Eventually, I can begin again.

I’m sitting alone on the side of a favorite local trail. I’m tired. I’ve been crying. My head aches, and I am in a pretty grim place, emotionally. I’m also grateful to be here, now, rather than having this moment as the woman I was 11 years ago. Yes, it’s fucking hard. Yes, I’m pretty g’damned unhappy right now, but… I can also recognize that this is simply a moment. It will pass. The future is unwritten. The trail ahead isn’t always within view.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I rather stupidly try to will my tinnitus to quiet down. No surprise that doesn’t work.

My Traveling Partner’s surgery went very well and he’s home resting and continuing to recover.

The drive home was emotionally difficult, and ended on an unpleasant note. The actions leading there were mine, so the fault is mine as well. (Hard to hold someone who just had surgery and is deeply medicated “responsible” for much of anything at all, whatever the circumstances.) By the time we got home I didn’t really want to interact with other human beings. I’ve been in pain all day, no end in sight, and I am tired and still kind of angry, though, as I said, how is someone so heavily medicated responsible for their words or behavior at all? Why would I be angry? I don’t think they can be held to everyday standards for sure. Accommodations must be made. Understanding and compassion are required. Forgiveness is a good approach. But… That has to include…for me, from me.

… It’s been so very worrying for so long to see my partner suffering, I probably needed to prepare for this moment quite differently somehow…

I sigh out loud, my ears ringing so loudly it seems certain I am missing other information. I promise myself to get my hearing checked. My back aches in spite of medication. (The chairs at the hospital are not sufficiently comfortable for an all day stay.) I’m tired and the walking isn’t satisfying. I’m just going through the motions. Literally.

My Traveling Partner pings me. I respond promptly; I still have responsibilities. I think about the woman I most want to be. What would she do, right now? I sigh again and get to my feet. She’d begin again.

I’m taking an afternoon break. I pretty much had to; my brain started shutting down. I found myself staring intently into the distance without seeing anything, just sort of attracted to the light. My mind was still – too still – and my thoughts were vacant abstractions and vague ruminations. “Cognitive fatigue”. I recognize it when I feel it. I got up, stretched, moved around some. Drank some water. Made a cup of tea, which sits here, half-consumed though I don’t recall actually drinking any of it. I feel… disconnected. Disengaged. Something like, but not quite, sleepy…

…Fucking hell, I’ve got shit to do… don’t I? I sigh outloud. (I sound frustrated and impatient with myself.) I have been trying to “shake it off” for some minutes, now. I suppose I could “give in to it” and lay down on the couch in the lounge space of the office, where I’m working today, only… I already know I would not sleep, even a little. I’m not actually “sleepy”. My mind is tired, yes. My body? Not so much. Hell, I went to bed early last night, slept more or less through the night, woke mostly pretty well-rested (although rather groggy)… what the hell is this shit?? “I don’t have time for this!” I protest internally, knowing it won’t do any real good… that’s not how one overcomes fatigue. lol

…I try taking a short walk and getting some fresh air…

This has been a peculiarly intense work week. Not bad, and for sure I’ve gotten a lot done, and most of that well-ahead of required timing or deadlines. Nice problem to have, I guess. There are no holidays with long weekends in March. None in April on our work calendar, either… Memorial Day in May feels a long time away, and I find myself wondering if it is time to go camping, or head to the coast for a couple days of quiet time reading, writing, and walking the beach…? I know my Traveling Partner is super bored at home, as he continues his recovery; he’s finally starting to feel more himself as his injury heals, and this will soon mean he doesn’t need as much help from me on day-to-day basics supporting him. Am I just… tired? It’s a lot to handle, and he’s incredibly kind and gracious and careful not to overburden me (I’ve got limitations of my own) – but it’s not likely to be a surprise if I’m just hitting a “stall point” from fatigue building up over time. I find myself thinking “when was my last getaway…?” and realizing it has only been a handful of days, really; I went down the coast to visit my dear friend before she died…

…Suddenly the tears start to fall…

Okay, so I’ve failed to account for the emotional fatigue of also managing grief in the mix of all of everything else, I guess? I kind of feel like I’m mostly sort of “over it”… more or less… mostly… but… that isn’t really how grief or grieving works, is it? The tears are just steady falling at this point, and I just fucking let them. My dear friend – one of my dearest, and for such a very long time – deserves every honest tear I shed in her memory. So human. What else can I possibly offer her now?

…Definitely just straight up crying now…

…This almost feels hormonal…

…Fuck I’m just so g’damned tired “lately”… (how much “lately”? I don’t even know, maybe just today…)

…But what do I need from me? Well, shit. I actually just don’t know, and can’t seem to kick my brain back into gear, and now I’m dealing with tears, too. So I do what I can – what I have to get done to finish the day. One task at a time, with care and consideration, after taking a healthy break, walking around the block, breathing some fresh air, drinking some clean cold water and a nice cup of tea… “Soon enough it’ll all be over,” I think to myself, then when I’m struck by how grim and final that actually sounds, I break up laughing out loud, tears still falling. I probably look like a hysterical madwoman, right about now, and I don’t even care – it’s just a very human moment. I’m tired. At least I’m fucking laughing, though… That’ll have to be enough, until I begin again.

Snow is falling. I don’t mind that; it’s pretty, and I’m comfortable at home. What I do mind are these tears. Oh, and the headache. The tinnitus. The crossness and fatigue that come of sleeping poorly. I mind all those things. “I’m doing my best.” It’s not “enough”.

I’ve lost my sense of enthusiasm even for something as innocent and delightful as a snowy winter afternoon.

I’ve lost my balance, and my way, and I’m as a hapless motorist in a blinding snow storm – drifting, then… stuck.

I’ve lost my perspective.

I’ve lost my sense of humor about all the maddening bullshit that has to do with caring for this meat suit until it finally rots around me.

…I’m just tired…

My Traveling Partner is annoyed with me. I’m not communicating well. I’m terse without realizing it. Apparently. I’m making a completely fucked up mess of the day in all but one respect; work. I’ve got this work in front of me. For now it keeps me anchored and aware that in some future moment maybe things won’t feel so utterly completely shit… I mean… “this too shall pass”… ? Right? I just need to stay focused on this spreadsheet for another couple hours…

…It’s surprisingly difficult to hold on to non-attachment when I need it most…

I’m angry with myself and disappointed. I don’t tell myself I’ve set the bar too high; I’ll myself that I’m fraud and a failure and a clown because I am not right now 100% of every inch of the woman I most want to be… in spite of this headache, and this fatigue, and this absolutely entirely fallible mortal and very human experience. It’s a moment. It’s not a great moment. It’s not a delightful moment. It’s not a moment I’m going to want to carry with me for a life time of recollection… but it’s part of my experience of being this particular human being. It has to be enough – and it has to be just another moment, one more step, one mile on a much longer journey. If I let it swamp me and become “everything”… yeah, then I definitely lose my way. 😦 Been there, too.

I take a breath. I let the tears fall. I watch the snow flakes coming down. I let the minutes pass without requiring anything more of them – or me.

The snow continues to fall. It’s beautiful. It’s cold out there. I stare past my monitor to the window and into the sky. That sky isn’t so blue right now. Weather versus climate. The pain in my neck is distracting in an unpleasant way…but it reminds me to turn my attention back to the work in front of me. Whatever. It’s something.

…Sometimes “something” has to be enough to hold onto. That’s okay. There will be a chance to begin again.

I am having a difficult moment. I write those words simply, and hoping that perhaps seeing them on the page in such a practical no bullshit way might give me some kind of leverage, a way to pull myself from the edge of this pit. It feels harder than that. Given a chance I know that it probably isn’t any more difficult that giving myself some tenderness, some compassion, and maintaining the will to look the truth straight in the face, fully accepting disappointments, hurts, and all the small things that don’t feel good. Awesome is possible…but the effort to lift a finger to let go of the hurting long enough to change it is hard to muster right now. It won’t stay this way ‘forever’, however much I hurt right now.

I am not skilled at managing my emotions. I’m still such a beginner. I feel my feelings so strongly – as if they are the only real reality, the only true truth. Intellect tells me it isn’t so. Study suggests perspective matters. Practices, over time, have resulted in so many fewer such moments like this one. Here I am now, though. This one’s harder than most, latelyΒ things have been very good.Β It’s not helping matters that I have no name for this feeling…some mix of disappointment, sadness, frustration, loneliness, and grief…and over something probably pretty small in the bigger picture.

I wrote more. I deleted it. I wrote more after that. Deleted it, too. Writing. Reading. Deleting. Contemplating words in rows. Feeling feelings. Tears slide down my face, ignored. I write. More words. I delete them; they say nothing. I am uncertain what I feel beyond this gray heavy hurting and loneliness. People are not who IΒ expect them to be, or who IΒ want them to be, or even who they once were. People are only who they are, in this moment now, and not even reliably so; I persist in expecting things, assuming things, wanting things. Mere mortals, one and all, each with our own baggage, our own failures, our own hurts – each of us the ‘good guy’ in our own narrative, and making it up as we go along. Something about this must be worth it – most of us keep at it. Again and again.

...Maybe a picture of some flowers will help?

…Maybe a picture of some flowers will help?

I am covered in mosquito bites. The itching drives me mad. I am in tears, head stuffy, eyes swollen. I am resentful of my weakness and my failure – how the fuck did I manage to fuck up a nice bit of hang out time with my traveling partner so easily? I mean, aside from being utterly human? My head aches with doubt and insecurity. Right now, nothing feels good, or holds any promise. This seems an unfair extreme, and rationally I know to doubt the intensity of it. Right now, I feel sad…and a lot of other stuff, none of it any good. Β MyΒ demons head for the playground. I feel stalled and helpless – and angry with myself that any one other human being anywhere has this kind of influence on my state of mind, however loved, however well-intended, however valued.

Words on a page. Maybe I should delete more of them? What is there to be gained in words about tears? It is wishful thinking to hope the demons might be distracted by a handful of words. They are not inclined to listen deeply, to be considerate, affectionate, supportive, or friendly – they don’t have my best interests in mind at all. Β They do not love. Β I do, though… it’s just hard right now. First I’ve got to swallow this bitter pill, with a side of fail sauce – then, later, when there are no more tears, sometime after a shower, after time spent meditating, after some sleep…maybe then it won’t be so hard to be alone. I may be doing quite a lot of it in the future – there’s really no way to know what the future holds for Β me.

Some moments are harder than others. They’re all just moments, brief and ephemeral – good or bad, they are over so quickly. Hurting sucks, but it will also end. Eventually tears dry. Eventually wounds heal. Eventually, wherever I happen to be will be okay with me. I focus on something small; I am okay right now…it’s a place to start.

Begin somewhere, and keep taking steps.

Begin somewhere, and keep taking steps.

…later…

Change is. Really. That’s even okay – sometimes it takes getting used to. Sometimes there are regrets – and apologies. Sometimes there is distance. Words can be misunderstood. The summer showers of my emotions pass quickly. I’m okay. Tears do dry. πŸ™‚