Category Archives: frustration

brain injury, faith, frustration, june, patience, recover, recovery

Patience: A Virtue Worth Cultivating

In all likelihood, you, like me, have areas in your life that frustrate you or things to do that remain undone. I have a long list in that category.

When I worked full time at my career, I kept on top of my day’s work and very rarely had any unresolved things. Perhaps purging a filing cabinet, or seeing if I could get a new desk chair would be a medium long wait, but things got tackled and resolved very quickly. The nature of my work meant that most things that come across my desk have to get done right away except for planning large scale public events, which took longer and required more collaboration with many stakeholders.

Since my stroke and my resulting increased amount of daytime at our home, I’ve had to realize that my desired work pace is not very realistic.

First of all, I have new limitations. I struggle often with fatigue and now have to work in nap time to let my brain pause somewhere in the middle of the day. I also don’t have total control on the schedules of my husband and kids. The day I might choose for a project may wind up being a day that they were each planning different things to do or places to go.

I think this has been one of the top five challenges of my stroke and recovery. I am not sure if it’s more accurately a loss of productivity, a loss of control or if it’s a lack of patience. Either way, it’s such a challenge. I have to constantly remind myself of how fortunate I am and I have to also remind myself of the importance of the happiness of my loved ones.

In order to gain some objectivity, I really should take a look at the more fullsome picture of my career’s successful productivity. I have to acknowledge several key differences:

  1. I was paid for my skill and ability which made me all the more vigilant of what I did and how expedient I was.
  2. If I bullied my body and pressed myself through meals or through breaks or through day and night, my body could keep up (I now know that my stroke was related to this ridiculous pace but still, for 15 years it worked).
  3. I didn’t have to do everything at work. Someone else cleaned, took care of security, arranged printer toner replacements, ordered and distributed supplies, paid the utilities, monitored the media coverage, coordinated training and development, paid for the office space, kept the technology working, and I could go on and on. A functional work environment is a team where everyone has a clear definition of what they have to maintain … and they are paid for that part.
  4. My physical space was small. The cubicle and office I had was very small and I intentionally kept clutter to a minimum (having only an indoor plant and two photos). Clutter and visual distraction never worked well with my brain and I guess that’s the same today. In fact, that has worsened, so visual distraction needs to be kept under control for the sake of my productivity.
  5. My most fruitful hours were spent at the office. I didn’t expect myself to work all day and all night (although, yes, occasionally that was required). But I didn’t look over my work to do list at all hours of the day. When I left work, 90% of me left… a small portion of my brain always stayed alert for my Blackberry and other work stuff, but I considered my day done until my eyes opened the next day.

Clearly, those factors are significant. I am often at home for several days and I also eat and sleep and relax here, in my “work place.”  Here, I see those to do items over and over, in every room of the house. I think that is a big part of my sleep challenges. In addition, working on things alone without as many other parts done by a team is discouraging. My own slow and unpredictable pace is distractable, exhausts easily, and some days that were planned to be productive wind up being impossible because I lose two days to recover from a loud or exhausting event the day before.

It’s very difficult to see to do items move from one week to the next week over and over. It’s upsetting and humbling.

I wrote that last line and it made me sit and think for a minute. I am a person of faith. I am Catholic. I have been studying the diary of Saint Faustina and last week we were again focused on how important humility is.

I think humility and patience are twins. One cannot be patient if they are not humble and clearly you can’t be humble when you’re not patient. I thought I was fairly humble but obviously, with my struggle for patience, I am not.

I guess it’s time to work on my patience as an act of also working on my humility. Maybe this blog is the way I have been awakened to one of my own (many) shortcomings. Maybe that is why I felt very strongly that I needed to get back to my blog. It’s a bit awkward and embarrassing to come across one’s own shortcomings in such a public way but pride under a useless veil of privacy is of no help to anyone. I don’t know why we are so in love with making ourselves seem perfect to everyone – no one is perfect. No one.

So here I stand with a mission that I need to focus on my humility and patience. I strongly feel that I was called to write because someone someday will be helped when they read it even if the help is just kinship. Maybe that person is you. If so, nice to meet you – it’s especially nice to meet people who are as publicly  imperfect as me.

So with that important and wonderful revelation, I guess today’s blogging is done but the work of the rest of my life has just been named. I look forward to exploring it… but in the meantime I want to disclose that I worry there is a line between being patient – calmly waiting for something to be done – and being lethargic and apathetic. I suppose, as I walk along this journey, I will have to keep alert for those latter two possibilities because I don’t want them to comfortably ride on the coattails of otherwise beautiful gifts like patience and humility. Maybe you can help me keep an eye out for them too.

In the coming weeks, at some point I will begin to share with you the long list of things to get done and you can watch (and hopefully, cheer) for the accomplishments I/we achieve as time marches on.

I just have to remember to be good to my heart and my sense of self and I have to be even better to the hearts of those I love around me. Until then…

Be well,
Jen

brain injury, frustration, inspiration, optimism, writing

The Art of Beginning Again

Life is a funny thing. I don’t mean funny haha, I mean funny as in it being an interesting and fascinating journey.

Since my last blog entry, a lot of time has passed and if you’re wondering what kept me away, you’re not alone (I certainly was wondering what kept me away). In an effort to figure it out, I have looked into a lot of psychology texts to see what it is that keeps me away from what I want to do most.

I guess the first question, then, is ‘What do I want to do most?’

I started to write lists of things that interested me and the list included (in no particular order): having a decluttered home, purging unnecessary belongings, making more quality time with my family to enjoy each other in the everyday, walking my dog more (and longer), getting my writing really kickstarted and following through, catching up with home repairs, reaching out to others in need in my community, strengthening my journey in faith, really deeply exploring yoga and meditation, pro-actively managing my health.

I also have used new rituals/tools for household budgeting and for planning my time. But somehow, a lot of things kept falling to the bottom of the heap.

So with all of those things in a reasonable and valid list of interests, I had to face the fact that I feel anxious – intensely anxious – about the things I want to do. I feel overwhelmed and although my kids will help (with prompting) and my husband will also help with a project that he sees coming (he hates it when I suddenly spring an idea of weekend work on him), I still feel quite alone in this list.

I took some time to see what was falling farthest from the top of my list and, sadly, the writing went all the way to the bottom.

I am reading some really great books that I will share in more depth in future blog entries. Through prayer, through the books I am reading and the other influences I have sought out (motivational speakers, etc), I have come to the several conclusions that are true for me:

  1. Feeling overwhelmed creates paralysis in me
  2. Being intimidated by my “things to do” somehow makes me prone to wasting time
  3. The more public a project, the more I fear failing
  4. When I feel an imbalance in my effort and the efforts of those closest to me, I reign in my work with some twisted sense of what’s “fair”
  5. I have an over-ambitious list of things which needs pruning

There are other truths I have discovered but some are better covered when I chat about the book that helped me make the discovery.

For now, I just have to say that the beginning of June (a fresh start in a new month) made me feel like it was an opportunity to begin again. In fact, every new day is an opportunity to begin again.

That’s where this becomes a bit funny (in an ironic sense). I chose the name Begin Again for almost all of my social media presence because, ever since my stroke and brain injury, I have been on a journey of learning how to begin again over and over and over.

Fresh page, fresh start

I have made a plan to post a new blog entry every Monday starting in the coming week and I am going to be rigorous about this and do it regardless of how motivated I feel (or not), how cluttered my life or my mind are (or not), how busy my family is (or not), etc. I just am going to make it a habit and I am going to work very hard to make a routine with regard to the blogging.

Even if no one ever reads it and it’s the best thing I’ve ever written, it’s worth writing. Even if the whole world reads it and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever written, it’s worth writing.

I will count on my faith to strengthen my resolve and to trust in the unknown. One thing I know is that love and mercy are at the center of everything that matters and even though I fell off the track with my blog, I too am worth some love and mercy. So I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and Begin Again.

Be well,

Jen xo

frustration, sad, seizure, stroke

Slings and arrows

This morning we had planned to go see a dear one in the hospital. We had booked with him yesterday evening to see him at 10:30 am today.

I woke up and as I was starting to get dressed, I began to hear clutter in my mind, things that repeat, and I knew that was bad. My husband asked me a question but I had trouble answering him. That, of course, is a huge warning sign so I lay down in bed.

A while later, I managed to call my husband upstairs and he lay down with me and rubbed my back because I was sad and frustrated. I felt terrible to have been in that situation again. I guess I keep dreaming that it will get better. It was then 10:15. I asked my husband to call and delay our visit. He did, just saying that something came up and we’ve had a delay but that we’re still coming.

I was so sad to not be better. That was a hard morning but the worst was yet to come.

We made a run to the person’s house to grab some things he had asked for and we got to the hospital. My husband dropped me and our eldest at the door.

We got upstairs and walked in overhearing him on the phone with another loved one. He interrupted the chat saying we were here. Then they both laughed that we are late and the person on the phone said she has to invite us an hour earlier to get us there in time. Due to the fact that he is hard of hearing, the phone was set very loud and so we overheard the whole thing ourselves.

Hahahahha! Isn’t that hilarious?!?

No. It isn’t. I cried in the hospital and immediately explained how insensitive it is. I told him, through tears, that I had a seizure at home and that’s why we’re late. He cried too and was clearly ashamed. But I don’t care. They should know better.

It aches that even the ones I most trust are so numb to it all.

This is me and I might NEVER change. I guess times like this help remind me to be more selective about the invitations I accept. I will never stray from my family. The rest, well … passive-aggression is unacceptable. Even the kids (my sons who are already very sensitive, kind, compassionate young people) were pretty sad too.

mean

I post this in the hope that someone somewhere out there will see a similar pain and not feel so alone. As I explained to the kids, part of the important wisdom is knowing when to keep distance from those who hurt you.

I look normal so maybe I make an easy target for the slings and jokes and arrows. So be it.

I remain strong and in love with God. I am alive … so the ignorance cannot undo me.

Be well.