Archives for posts with tag: this hurts me more than it does you

I woke at 1:37 am to a loud bang. I returned to sleep. I woke again at 4:21 am for no reason that was obvious, and went back to sleep again. When I woke to the alarm, it was a bit as if I was never sleeping. My brain seemed pretty busy from about 1:37 am on until the morning alarm. Mostly playing mc chris’ “Tarantino” on repeat in the background of my consciousness. What’s that about? My back aches with the ‘everyday pain’ of arthritis. Yoga is difficult this morning. Sitting with good posture is difficult.

My coffee is neither creamy nor sweet.

This morning these are simply my experience, my observations. I feel pretty positive and basically ‘okay’ as an emotional being. It’s a nice change from Wednesday.

Wednesday, a bit like this.

Wednesday, a bit like this.

Yesterday wasn’t bad at all. It started well, ended comfortably, and aside from a distinct lack of physical comfort in my experience, the day proceeded well between the beginning and end.  Yesterday’s high points? Love, and roses.

"Baby Love" rose [Scrivens, 1992] first to bloom in my garden this year.

“Baby Love” rose [Scrivens, 1992] first to bloom in my garden this year.

My very human experience has its ups and downs. This morning is still so new there’s no knowing. I meditate, sip coffee, study, do yoga, and prepare to face the world. I feel, for the moment, content and complete, in spite of my arthritis, in spite of pain, in spite of the headache, the bitterness of my coffee, or the slightly sick feeling of mornings. A little later than now, I’ll leave for work, probably have to remind myself to grab my cane before I go; it is an encumbrance as much as a help, and like I child I tend to abandon it anywhere I happen to sit down, if I happen to stand up with ease when I return to movement. lol

In spite of pain, and the unsteadiness of my knees lately, I still walk as much as I can. I’m still getting in about 5 miles a day, about 3 of that is commute, spread out over the morning and evening, and 2 miles for a walk midday. If I ‘give my knees a rest’ and allow myself to succumb to the illusion that not using them will somehow put things right, I put myself at risk of gaining weight, pretty much immediately. I keep walking every day I can put weight on my knees and ankles at all. (I’m heavier than I’d like to be, and very much aware of the toll that is taking on my knees and ankles. Stabilizing my weight below 200 lbs is within reach, and I’ll be very happy to hit that benchmark.)

Still, the pain is what it is, and it is part of my experience. As much as I look forward to the beauty of spring, and a lovely walk on a nice day, there’s a bit of a ‘Little Mermaid” element to it; every step may be painful. Growth has often felt that way to me; every step painful, journey and destination worth the difficulty.

Pain is a shared experience. Most people have some. It’s odd to be in a group of people and observe that one person commenting on their experience of pain or discomfort tends to launch a round of compare/contrast statements, with some one-up-man-ship thrown in for flavor. I try to stay out of those, and regret it when I launch one. Few things result in feeling less heard about hurting than everyone else chiming in about how much they also hurt. Everyone wants to feel heard about pain.  I’m not sure anyone ever does.  Our own pain is so visceral. The pain of others tends to be far less so.  I have been working on compassion first, sympathy, understanding – hearing that this human being speaking to me is hurting, and recognizing their experience, without sharing mine, even out of sympathy. (Allowing them to have their experience, feel nurtured and supported, and not diminished by my experience, or denied the opportunity to be individual. ) I don’t know that it does or does not ‘work’ any better than countering every tale of discomfort with one of my own, but it seems likely to be less annoying or dismissive.

It’s Friday. Looks like a quiet solo evening on the calendar. I find myself hesitant to be at all excited about it. I’d rather not become invested in the outcome and have to deal with disappointment if life throws some changes in the mix. I’m eager to spend some time on my writing and dive deeply into meditation without a timer, clock, or deadline on the other side.  It’d be nice to look forward to doing that pain-free, but that’s unrealistic these days, so I don’t bother about the pain until it speaks up with enough force to be a real game-changer.

Friday. Black coffee. A backache. Spring flowers. A quiet morning. This is not only ‘not bad’ – it’s actually pretty good.

I woke gently this morning. It was lovely. I chilled awhile watching the fish in my aquarium waking up after the light came on and considered the challenge of photographing fish; they don’t exactly pose for pictures.  It hit me as I meditated on their experience of aquatic life as different from my experience of observing it; they are exquisitely ‘now’ sorts of creatures, to the point that even capturing one moment in a photograph is a challenge. I felt my breathing slow, and deepen, as I watched them. My morning was off to a great start, and I was feeling serene, calm and centered.

One of many not-quite-successful pictures of fish. lol

One of many not-quite-successful pictures of fish. lol

Then I moved to put my feet on the floor…pain. Headache pain. Arthritis pain. The other aches and pains that go with living life. Enough pain to create a wave of nausea as I stood. Damn it. I hurt and I ‘feel old’; stiff, inflexible, aching… coffee barely sounded good, but I was still in good spirits. The household was still sleeping. I made coffee and retreated to the solitary peace of more meditation, yoga, and calm chill time watching fish swim, until everyone else also woke and started the day. The quiet felt lovely. A counterpoint to the pain.

Before long it was clear that the pain is, for now, enough to make interacting with people difficult. I’m ‘not at my best’, and the conflict between what I want, what my partners want/need, and what I am up to doing don’t share much in common. I’m cross now, angry with myself for the weaknesses of being human, and for wanting. Frustrated that unmet needs of my own and theirs are piling up because I hurt. Being cross is better than the anger that preceded it. I want to laugh and feel good…what I actually feel like is crying and/or punching someone in the face.  😦  (I’m sorry – I know saying things like that can be distressing for others to hear, and I wouldn’t actually follow through on the ‘punching someone in the face’ piece.) I haven’t yet learned how else to express the particular feeling of frustration and simmering anger bubbling under the surface of hurting, so I fall back on hyperbole and the expression of emotion through words of violence. I’m at this strange point in my life where I recognize that such is inappropriate, but lack a clear alternative that feels like an adequate expression of my experience and feelings. Still working on me…I have a way to go yet.

I am invited by first one, then another partner to do something with them…I feel disappointed with myself that nothing sounds good, and that I feel like I am limited by the knowledge that I am at risk of poor behavior because I feel crappy. I am frustrated and dissatisfied with my self, and my experience. I took a couple of days off work for my birthday, and I’m angry that I am spending so much of that precious time in pain instead of – frankly – having a lot of sex and partying and having a good time in my garden, with my friends and partners, and doing stuff. The person I want most to punch in the face is me. How dare I ruin my planned good time with weakness?

I guess there’s nothing to do but move on with the day, doing my best. Maybe if I keep at it I can shrug off the incredible resentment and annoyance about the pain…