Archives for posts with tag: what matters most?

I’m thinking about the shitty weekend that is now behind me. I’m thinking about progress over time and results, both successes and failures. It’s kind of a deep dive on particulars, and maybe “TMI”. Feel free to skip it.

I’m sipping my coffee, which is quite dreadful this morning, and sort of “giving myself a report card”, because it’s true that without reflecting on outcomes, managing change becomes more a matter of surfing the waves of circumstances and less like working towards goals. So… I think about my “Big 5” relationship values (which I set down “on paper” back in 2013) – how am I doing there? I’ll use traditional US primary school letter grades. 🙂

  1. Respect – I’ll give this one a D, I guess. I could for sure do a lot better. I talk over my partner a lot, and even though it’s a brain injury thing, it’s still rude and causes hurt feelings.
  2. Reciprocity – I’ve got to give myself an F here; I suck at personal boundary setting and speaking up when I need help, and the result is that I often take more on myself than I can live up to, and then struggle to manage my resentment. It creates a mess that would be so much more easily managed if I ask for help when I need it, and say “no” when I’m not up to handling some task or another.
  3. Consideration – I get a B on “consideration”, I think – and I’m “taking points off” because I sometimes go a bit overboard, such that I fail to also consider myself, or create an uncomfortable circumstance where my partner may be unintentionally maneuvered into “taking advantage of me”. My heart is in the right place, my execution needs some work – as does my boundary-setting.
  4. Openness – Another F. I’ve been more and more withdrawn, lately, even as my partner gives me more opportunity to open up. It’s damaging for our ability to create intimacy, and may be a byproduct of feeling small or inadequate in our relationship.
  5. Compassion – I’ll give myself a C here. I could do better. I definitely feel the feeling, but I often struggle to express it sufficiently well.

Shit. That was unexpected. I thought I’d get better grades… What about personal values like:

  1. Perspective – I gain it. I lose it. It’s pretty inconsistent, and also pretty high on my list of important things, so… a C?
  2. Sufficiency – I’ll give myself a A on this one. I do pretty well at living this value these days. That feels good. Room to improve? For sure – still human, still prone to greed, envy, lust, yearning… room to do better.
  3. Authenticity – I’m going to give myself a D here. More and more lately I’ve been feeling compelled to “put a good face on things” in spite of clear signs that I’m struggling with… something… even if it’s just aging/menopause/human b.s., there’s legit self-harm in being inauthentic, especially in an intimate relationship.
  4. Frankness – Funny/not funny. I’d have given myself an A+ on this, almost reflexively, even a few weeks ago, but I’m forced to admit I’ve been working so hard on not just blurting out whatever the fuck is on my mind for so long now that I’ve gotten pretty good at not doing that. With my more recent growing sense that my partner wishes I would just shut up (I don’t think that’s actually true, it’s just an emotional experience), I’ve gotten increasingly unlikely to be very frank and direct with him. I get an F.
  5. Kindness – Shit. Wow. So… I have a kind heart. A+ there, but… my Traveling Partner was super clear with me this weekend that he feels that I routinely treat him unkindly, and he’s hurt by that (obviously, who wouldn’t be?). And also? My chronic negative self-talk? Yeah. Failing grade here: F. That stings a bit. I can do better.

Fuck. What the hell, man…? How about application of the Four Agreements?

  1. Be Impeccable With Your Word – well shit. Seeing a D grade for Authenticity, and an F on Frankness… an F on Kindness… a D for Respect, and an F on Openness? Sounds like a big failure here, too. F.
  2. Don’t Take Anything Personally – Omg. I take so much shit so personally. My Traveling Partner has his own issues. Too often I look right past the love to the issue he’s struggling with himself that has nothing whatever to do with us, or love, and I take it so very personally. F.
  3. Don’t Make Assumptions – I’m pretty good here. Not perfect. Not great. Better than average, I think… so… a B? Sometimes in a bad moment, I trip myself up with this one, but generally I do okay to check myself (and my assumptions).
  4. Always Do Your Best – I’m going to give myself a C here. I could do my best, better, more often, I think. Sometimes I don’t do my best at doing my best. Pretty average.

Shit. For real? And those relationship items I touched on yesterday? How about those? Where I am “at” right now?

  1. Active interest in my partner’s life? Definitely. Very much so. But… am I communicating that skillfully? No. No, I’m definitely not. My self-care failures are getting in my way rather badly, and I end up being terse, distracted, or disengaged when I mean to be attentive and curious. D.
  2. Aware of my “attachment style” and working to develop a healthier attachment style? Um… F. This was barely even on my radar until a few days ago. I’ve got a ton of work to do here.
  3. Embracing healthy conflict, and not “fighting” (working as a team to solve problems)? Omg. I’m conflict avoidant AF – and in a very unhealthy way. It would not be an exaggeration to say I am inclined to literally run from conflict. I’m terrified by expressed anger (especially by male partners), and struggle to manage my PTSD when conflict develops as a result. F.
  4. Open to discussing, facing, and resolving big fears and issues, not just small ones? I mean… in principle, sure, but… see item 3. I’m so conflict avoidant in the context of intimate partnerships that trying to bring up a concern with me has real risk of provoking a fight or a “meltdown” of some kind. I am not good at this. I want to be good at this, but my skills are wholly undeveloped, and I’ve been badly hurt in earlier relationships – there’s a lot of ancient pain, and emotional scars. Another F.
  5. Supporting my partner without scorekeeping? This is a weird one. I definitely “get it” intellectually and emotionally. I understand why scorekeeping is damaging. I have put in a lot of work to move away from this kind of damaging behavior… but I somehow find myself fairly easily provoked into one form of scorekeeping or another in moments of conflict, in spite of that. I’m giving myself a D.
  6. Having my own identity and recognizing that my partner does as well? I’ve been struggling more with this lately; I feel “downtrodden and small”, and often feel as though my only value in my relationship is work, housekeeping, and other such practical shit. That isn’t healthy. I sometimes feel as if I am “losing myself”. I find myself wondering if this may be what is causing my bout of depression? (It’s probably at least relevant…). C- or D.
  7. Creating emotional safe space for each other? Fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail. F. All the fucking fail sauce.

…I’m not good at relationships is apparently putting it mildly…

Fuck. That’s a lot of shit to work on… I feel grateful for my Traveling Partner’s persistence with our relationship (I’m clearly not good at this shit). I’ve definitely got room for growth and improvement, and holy shit this stuff looks hard. I’m coming up short in areas that require me to skillfully set boundaries… to ask for help… to say “no” to stuff… to speak up frankly and directly… to make room for my partner to have his own emotional experience and feel safe doing so… How am I failing so hard after so much fucking work?? Well, tl;dr – it’s a very human experience, and relationships (unlike self-work) are collaborative; his issues are my issues, mine are also his. My progress isn’t guarantee of relationship progress. These are separate things that both need attention, time, work, and real love. Commitment. Will to act. Will to change. Will to approach – and to be approachable. Fucking hell… adulting is hard.

It was a hard weekend and I’m glad it’s over. Am I inclined to just “put it behind me”? You better believe it – but doing that without doing the work needed to make things right (long-term) puts this relationship that I value at great risk of failure. That’s not at all what I want, so I guess I’ve got to dig deeper and work through my bullshit. Hopefully he’ll also be committed to doing the same; we’ve each got our share of bullshit to deal with, and we’re each “half of everything that works” (or doesn’t) in this relationship. I guess I can start by trusting love, and trusting my lover, and working on improving the shit I’m not personally doing very well. I can do better. (I’ve got a list, and plenty of verbs.)

I’ll see my therapist, talk about my depression, talk about building emotional safety in my relationship… and begin again. It’s a good place to start. Every journey has to start somewhere.

I woke early. It’s a Sunday. I had hoped to sleep in, but it’s not that day, not that experience.

I somehow managed to “psychically wake up” my Traveling Partner although I was sleeping in another room. (I honestly just don’t know how I woke him, but he turned up to tell me that I had done so within seconds of me sitting up to acknowledge a new day. “Psychically” covers it as well as anything else for now.) I dress and head out for a walk, hoping he can get some more rest. I choose a favorite trail that’s a bit of a drive to get to; it prolongs my time out of the house.

… It’s a lovely misty morning for a quiet marshside walk. I get back to the car too early to head straight home; if my partner is sleeping, I want to be sure he gets more than an hour of napping! Good time to jot down a few words.

An Autumn Sunday

My plan is to return home, make coffee, and spend the day creatively (and doing laundry, and tackling some outside chores that should not take long). I’m specifically so very hungry to be painting, and shit just keeps getting in the way. Some days it just feels like “everyone wants a piece of me” and there’s nothing left for me at the end of the day… Or week. Routine chores and practical shit that just has to get done uses up most of my time and attention, leaving me too tired physically to then also paint. Time taken in the studio often feels like time taken away from my partner. I could do better. I need to do better. Painting is, for me, both a form of communication and a form of self-care and I am failing myself on this pretty seriously.

I sit with my thoughts and half an eye on the clock.

What an emotionally difficult weekend this has been. I meant to spend most of it painting and loving my partner. I managed to fail on both of those intentions pretty notably. Tears well up when I acknowledge that for myself, but they don’t fall. I take a deep breath and exhale. Another chance to begin again. G’damn we said some pretty awful things to each other. That saddens me. I know I can do better.

So, it’s another day, another chance to be the woman I most want to be, another opportunity to choose my adventure and walk my own path. Adulting is hard, but I know what I want out of my day, even if I am not entirely sure which verbs are most likely to get that result.

… I can at least do my best…

It’s time to begin again. Again.

Probably. I’m for sure depressed, which is tending to make me definitely more an asshole than a sweet-tempered, good-hearted, kind and empathetic human being looking out for others and being considerate moment-to-moment. I do wish I’d recognized that I had become depressed before I had become an asshole. My results most definitely vary. The tools in my toolkit feel inadequate. This bit of emotional weather is rough. Stormy. Gray skies. Rain. It’s nasty.

I’m fortunate to have my Traveling Partner by my side, although I don’t like being yelled at over being an asshole. Once the conversation eventually got around to the whys and the wherefores, and recognition of my depression developed, for me and for him, we at least found some kind of equilibrium – a point of understanding to work from constructively. Helpful. Still unpleasant.

What I’m saying is this is a very human experience. I’m as human as anyone. The chaos and damage have won this round, but I’m still in the ring, still getting back up to go another round. Fuck depression. Fuck anxiety too. Fuck nightmares. Fuck sorrow and grief. Fuck trauma and lingering damage. All of this terrible shit is also so endlessly human. Will I be okay? Hell, I’m mostly okay now – I’m just struggling with a tremendous lot of “second arrow” suffering and yes, mental illness.

I breathe, relax. Drink water. Take my meds. Begin again.

This morning I woke just ahead of my alarm. I’m okay with that, the timing was right. I woke drenched in anxiety and doubt, though, which isn’t common these days and it’s really thrown me off this morning. The very excellent commute into the office? Mostly characterized by intense anxiety and fearfulness in spite of being both quite routine, and also a smooth and easy commute with little traffic. It makes no sense. I woke with acid reflux, too; maybe the emotions follow the physical malady? Maybe they cause it. I don’t know. I know that I feel… tense. Alert for the next thing to go wrong (though there hasn’t been a first thing, so far today or even this week).

…Fuck anxiety…

Work is good…so… it doesn’t seem likely that it’s “a work thing”. I’ve got a good thing going with my Traveling Partner, and things seem to be good with him… so… unlikely to be anything to do with him, or with “us”. This feeling is more a loose sense of persistent dread that isn’t attached to anything particular, but lingers in the background filling my guts with churning and knots, amplifying my pain, and spiking every thought with doubt and worry. It’s an unpleasant and uncomfortable state of being, and although I tell myself it will pass (and feel certain that is true), it’s where I find myself this morning and I must say I don’t much care for it at all.

…This sensation is sometimes the result of forgetting something incredibly important that I can’t put my finger on, but on this, too, I come up empty handed when I scrounge around in my consciousness and my notes for something it could be…

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

I sip my almost-cold coffee thoughtfully. I take a deep breath, exhale, and will my shoulders to relax, feeling the sensation spread, breath after breath. It helps. I let myself acknowledge that “I’ve got a lot going on”, and then also admit to myself that a similar amount of “stuff” might not feel so weighty under other circumstances. I also consider what it can teach me that the stress feels most closely associated with things I am doing – or want to do – “for me”: a manicure I started and didn’t finish, a book I’m almost through and haven’t finished, the holiday cards for the year, holiday items I may want to 3D print (which requires learning to use the new printer), make more shower fizzies, and something or another that I feel certain I’ve forgotten. When I list them in my head my anxiety goes nuts. It seems like too much. (“For real?” I snarl resentfully at myself, in my head.) It doesn’t seem at all fair that things I enjoy doing, that are in some cases legitimately self-care (and in others just things I very much enjoy) would cause me this kind of anxiety. Or… is it just the willful choice to do things for me that’s setting off my anxiety? That’s a concern I live with. It’s entirely internal, and has its source in that mightiest of anxiety well-springs – trauma and ancient pain.

A small sad voice in my head suggests “there just isn’t enough time for everything”, but this is another illusion. Anxiety is a liar. Yes, there’s finite lifetime, but there are many choices and opportunities, and time enough generally when I choose wisely. I take another breath, and another sip of coffee and watch day breaking beyond the windows of the office. I think about what matters most, and what I want out of the day (and the week, and the upcoming 3-day weekend). I think about paintings yet unpainted… and the passage of time. I notice my anxiety but also try to step back from the visceral feeling and in order to simply observe it.

…Damn, I’m in a lot of pain today…

Could the pain I’m in be enough to trigger this level of anxiety? Sure, it could. Does. Has in the past. I pause to take steps to manage my pain, and set the anxiety aside to re-evaluate later (to check whether or not it has changed after doing something about the pain I’m in). It makes some sense; my sleep was restless and disturbed by uneasy, anxious dreams – and I went to bed in pain, and woke with it at least once. It’s that time of year; the variable weather, the chilly nights, the return of the rain, and the dampness are all qualities that seem to be associated with more than usual pain (for me). So. I try to just let it go. It’s a thing. It’ll pass.

Fuck anxiety, though.

I’ll have to begin again.

I am sipping my first coffee. It’s quite late in the morning on a Sunday. Feels like a lazy day, but I’m in the studio, after a lovely walk on a misty morning. The marsh trail is closed for the season. The all-year trail is still open, and quite lovely. The trees are wearing Autumn colors, and the migrating flocks of birds entertained me with their murmurations as the dawn became day.

Walking Autumn trails.

My Traveling Partner is in his creative space, printing parts, re-assembling a 3D printer, and doing his thing. I’m in my studio, in a similarly creative mental space. This morning my head is filled with art and meaning, connections and inspiration. I am thinking about the past – and the future. I am listening to music that connects those elements of my life in an entertaining way; Cyberpunk. This Billy Idol album came out in 1993 – well-before I had a computer on my desk, myself. I had read my share of William Gibson, of course, but pc’s were not yet commonplace and “smartphone” wasn’t even a word yet. I had yet to form the future friendships that would come to rely on internet connectivity to sustain them over time. Listening to Cyberpunk now, it has a lot of peculiarly prescient elements that now seem almost mundane and just a little “so what?” I find that quite interesting. It remains one of my “forever favorite” albums. My favorite track? Probably Adam in Chains… I think back on “that time”, and find myself wondering how I didn’t “pick up on” the value of mindfulness and a serious meditation practice then…? How did it take me so long to get here? I remember listening to Adam in Chains with my headphones on, or alone at home with the stereo cranked up, stressed to a breaking point, drifting deeper into a meditative state following the flow of the music…finding temporary peace. It wasn’t a practice, just a moment.

…Listening now, it lifts me and lifts me, and I feel a wholeness and contentment and joy, although the lyrics and music are not of a happy place or time…

I could have come farther, faster, sooner if I had made the connection, perhaps… It’s a complicated journey. I took some detours and some dead-end paths. I’m not even sure I regret those, knowing what I know now; it’s been a life well-lived. There’s no knowing which small detail, changed, would change all the rest. Would I give up even one friendship formed later to have healed sooner? I don’t think that’s a choice I’d want to make. If finding mental health, wellness, and emotional stability would have come sooner, but at the cost of never making the acquaintance of my Traveling Partner…? Would I have chosen sanity over love? I don’t know that I would, given a chance to make an informed choice. Love is pretty splendid.

Art inspired by life, new work in progress waiting for attention.

I tinker while I sip coffee and write. I pause the music when my Traveling Partner pops in to show me newly printed parts from the new 3D printer – pretty amazing stuff, and I delight in both the quality of the results and his obvious satisfaction. I re-connect the Bluetooth antenna to my desktop computer in order to pair the Cricut; it’s a pain in the ass to balance my laptop on my knees in the studio, when I could be using my desktop computer for the design work so much more conveniently, and it’s been holding me back a bit. The beat pounds in my ears as I type. My coffee is still warm, and well-prepared. It’s a good day for art and play and love – I feel inspired.

It’s time to begin again.