I’ve got the evening OFF

Oh, thank heavens. I have had an incredibly long day, filled with all the “best” that life has to offer. I was scheduled for a late call tonight, but the person I am supposed to be talking to is traveling until Friday, so I have the evening OFF.

Except that I need to go pick up my car from the garage later. And then I need to make an early night of it, because I have an early meeting in the morning. All these meetings at all these hours. It gets to be a little much.

But at least I have a job, and at least my situation is reasonably secure (as far as I can tell). At least I’m not out looking for work. I may be, in a few more months, but then again, I might not be. I’ve made peace with my situation, somewhat. Although I think it’s ridiculous and foolish and debilitating on a number of levels, I have been offsetting the stupidity with my sitting and breathing. It’s something.  Something that helps, no matter what.

It does feel good to be home. Back to my routine. Back to the familiar. It was good to step away and break up the monotony, but it’s also good to have structure and regular events to mark the time with.

A part of me is still profoundly discontent with how things are, but I can trace that directly to my fatigue and anxiety levels, and the lower my fatigue and anxiety, the lower my discontent. So, there’s an explanation that also shows me that A) I can do something about my state of mind/heart, and B) the quality of the conditions around me is not permanently screwed up. It’s very much dependent on my own state of mind/body/heart, so that both simplifies and complicates things.

I feel like I’m rambling. I guess maybe I am.

Anyway, I’ve been really bothered by memories from my past, these past few days. Not so much thought-memories as sense-memories… remembering how I’ve felt in the past. When I was a kid. When I was a teenager. When I was a young adult… all the way up to recent past. And it doesn’t feel good. All that confusion, all that anger, all that frustration and pain… it’s like it’s stuck in my “wiring” and it won’t let go. I try to let it be and just get on with my day, but it follows me, dogs me, hangs onto me like a needy stray looking for some attention, some scraps of food, some fleeting shelter. And when I stop long enough to pay attention to it, it’s so sad, so pathetic, so weak and strung-out, I just don’t know what to think or how to feel about it.

I don’t usually think of myself as someone who’s had a hellish life, but all these old memories of when I was a little kid, banging my head on walls and crawling into dark corners just to escape the bright lights and loud sounds and confusion of all the activity around me… pulling and picking at myself, worrying scabs that wouldn’t heal, throwing myself around like a broken toy, and feeling so much better when I’d hit my head and the noise and franticness and the confusion would stop, for however long.

And I remember how my mother was afraid of me, my father talked to me like I was a piece of crap, and my siblings all learned to steer clear of me when I “got like that”.

Strange, that after I got this sudden reprieve from work this evening, all I can think about is how awful I’ve felt in the past.

It wasn’t always bad. There were times of incredible bliss and joy and absorption in things and ideas that fascinated me. There were people, here and there, who treated me well and could handle me for a little while. There were situations when I did very well for myself and I had a lot to be proud of.

It’s crazy — it feels like it’s all bubbling to the surface, these days. Crazy. I’m okay, but I’m going from one silent extreme to the other, almost breaking down in tears when I’m driving home and listening to someone talk on the radio. Or I’m feeling incredibly calm and peaceful and nothing can move me. Actually, the calm and peace is what’s closest to me, with this undercurrent of upheaval flowing underneath it all. Now and then it bubbles up, or it splashes up, as though it’s rapids on the river.

And then it fades. And I’m fine again.

Oh hell, it’s all a damn’ mystery. Time to get some supper. And take the evening OFF.

Advertisements

Author: brokenbrilliant

I am a long-term multiple (mild) Traumatic Brain Injury (mTBI or TBI) survivor who experienced assaults, falls, car accidents, sports-related injuries in the 1960s, '70s, '80s, and '90s. My last mild TBI was in 2004, but it was definitely the worst of the lot. I never received medical treatment for my injuries, some of which were sports injuries (and you have to get back in the game!), but I have been living very successfully with cognitive/behavioral (social, emotional, functional) symptoms and complications since I was a young kid. I’ve done it so well, in fact, that virtually nobody knows that I sustained those injuries… and the folks who do know, haven’t fully realized just how it’s impacted my life. It has impacted my life, however. In serious and debilitating ways. I’m coming out from behind the shields I’ve put up, in hopes of successfully addressing my own (invisible) challenges and helping others to see that sustaining a TBI is not the end of the world, and they can, in fact, live happy, fulfilled, productive lives in spite of it all.

5 thoughts on “I’ve got the evening OFF”

  1. In my not-so-distant past I have had the opportunity to go to two therapists I admired very much. I was coming out of a very traumatic experience at the time. The first therapist, the one I will speak of now, was highly trained, enough that she was called upon by the Red Cross to be a manager during the Katrina Hurricane. (I have a *huge* amount of respect for those who rush in with the tools to help others at such a tremendously difficult time. That is a noble heart in my book).

    I spoke to her of one of my triggers, how I started crying while I was driving and I came completely unraveled. She gently, without judgment, asked if I had pulled over. No, I said, the thought never occurred to me. She said she always tries to remember that there is ‘motion’ in emotion.

    She did not give me a list of to-do’s or not to-do’s, she somehow knew I would find a way to honor those feelings and work them out in my own way. I know the same thing is true for you. Be gentle with yourself. These moment s can be much like grief work, though for different emotions, it is still work. 🙂

    Maybe it’s helpful to be reminded we are all works in progress…and healing is available.

    Blessings, Love & Peace,
    RH

    Like

Talk about this - No email is required

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.