elainegrey

Still physically healthy. Yay!

Really down. Boo.

I got worried that all the receipts from travel that i had emailed to me ended up getting lost. It turned out it took some time for my email to all get downloaded to my work laptop: they were all (well, many more) there this afternoon.

I traveled on Southwest this trip. On Monday i was anxious about my carry-on baggage having overhead room from my position around the 90th to board. Worked out OK. Friday i was even more delayed in checking in, and ended up around 120th to board. I gave into the extortion and paid to be moved to the front of the line for boarding.

On Monday i wrote about my concern about boarding and then relief that it was OK.

I continued:

There seem to be fewer Masks this trip compared the flight last December, although I don't know if Southwest skews.

I spent so much time with anxiety over packing and prep [the weekend before the flight]. I know that this is all the ADHD Stuff. I travel so rarely that I can't quite remember what I successfully did last time.

The weekend was waves of stress - perhaps anxiety is more correct- would I remember what I needed, would I pack it right? I spent along time waffling on whether to check luggage. Shoes drive me nuts: what to wear for comfort? But looks professional? (At least for the lowered standards of the tech and academic world.) The first time I traveled after living in NC, my feet were so accustomed to either house slippers or boots, wearing shoes created huge blisters.

I finally decided to just wear the newly dyed blue boots on the plane. If has been a fine decision and took one thing out of luggage. I can get them off fast enough at the security scan, and get them back on reasonably.

While packing, I ended up purging almost all the small travel sized things: handfuls of chapstick, hand sanitizer that expired six years ago! It can expire? Whatever. All in the trash.

I thought about my mom's purses and the cabinets full of similar stuff that we (my sister, mainly) cleaned out after her death. There is a spiral of triggers for collecting the items. One of them -- "I know I had X but I can't find it" -- plagued me as I packed. Having many copies theoretically means that you can easily find one when you need it. (l eventually found those things i was looking for as well as other items on my lost list this weekend.) There's the guilt of waste: must use everything up. The fear of the discomfort of being without. With the skin issues Mom and I shared, it isn't just discomfort but also knowledge how irritations can trigger flares. I still think with horror of a work trip where dry skin lead to a raw, weeping rash over half my face. Be prepared with every lotion and salve!

I have so few items compared to mom but I had no idea how old, how germy, the ones I have were. So I am going to TRY to not have tons of different chapsticks and lotions, try to keep redundancy down. I threw out a bowl of cough drops at least four years old. And I threw out a bottle of suede protector that was from the early aughts. (I had to ask Christine for advice as I dithered over whether to use it or not.)

Decluttering feels a bit like wasting things. I know one of the ADHD strategies some folks have is just have lots of backup for when you misplace things. Maybe I will drive myself nuts trying to keep track of stuff. But it also felt good to get rid of the bottles of stuff that i had no memory of how long it;s been sitting around.

In the opposite direction of throwing things out, I did accept a very large bin of canning jars from Mom's effects as Dad cleaned his garage. I've bought a collection of bamboo lids for the jars - canister style. Syringes for Luigi's meds, needle tips from Edward's meds, clutter of all my skin meds are now stashed in jars. I think that's going to help ease another aspect of clutter that creates an undercurrent that contributes to me feeling overwhelmed.

I'm not quite sure What is inspiring he decluttering. So far it's just been a bit here and a bit there. There is a little more ease than before, so I am noticing the benefit.

In preparation for spring, for my birthday, for my personal new year, i'm writing a description of my days and life. I know things change over time, but i don't have a good sense of how things that feel like i've been doing them forever actually change. So, i'm going to write up some mundanities.

If there's anything about my day to day life, particularly things to which i refer obliquely and that you would like cleared up, please feel to ask.

--== ∞ ==--

Meanwhile, i can't bear the thought of scheduling anything. Juggling Mom's care schedule and working on a retreat schedule have exhausted that bit of brain. Last night, my sister asked B-- to not come until 9 am this morning (instead of 7 am, when L-- needs to be relieved to get her kids to school). B-- wanted to know how long we'd like her to stay. L-- erupted to me with exasperation: i pointed out to L how she was giving a change to B-- and maybe B had plans for today. So, i'll go over a little later and stay later, and then tomorrow i will give B-- some time off for her birthday. And do something fun with mom. But what?

--== ∞ ==--

Last night i started reading a diary of Mom's. She recorded destroying all her previous journals to give herself a fresh start. She journaled a "fresh start" around Feb-March, then returned to journal again a year later. And then a year later. I am intrigued her timeline to get back to journaling was the time i am consider my new year. In one of those entries, she writes about realizing she has ADD. She did also assert my Dad has ADD: her usual pattern of projecting everything on my Dad. But it's fascinating to read her energy around recognizing herself.

Could my sensitivity be so high that forgetting my prozac dose last night (along with all the other supplements and pills) could lead to the sense of overwhelm and tenderness today?

I'm trying to pace, to breathe, to be conscious of the effective work i am doing, to partition escape/release/relaxation from work. I'm trying to let myself meander, not blast myself like a firehose in the worry of trying to attend to everything.

JN shared with Meeting on Sunday his recollection of a Yearly Meeting Peace and Social COncerns session decades ago, where the gathered had been brought to a depression over the so many causes and concerns that clamored for attention. He described how an elderly Anna Brinton[1] slowly made her way to the microphone, the gathering falling into a deep expectant silence to hear what one of the founders of the Yearly Meeting had to share. "Do less better," she said, JN clearly imitating her delivery, with equal emphasis on each word. And she sat down.

Do Less Better. I can take that as a mantra.

[I also canceled by 2:30 meeting, as the other seemed to have more than enough to do.]

[1] Anna Cox Brinton (1887-1969), see Pendle Hill pamphlets #176 (1971) Anna Brinton: a Study in Quaker Character by Eleanore Price Mather. ( a few more online references about her )

Rapid notes: ( a log so i can track my blues )
Coping plans: take time to ride the bicycle during work today. Dental cleaning is a walk. Keep taking analgesics for the damn canker that formed as soon as i scheduled the dental appointment. (It was pretty inflamed yesterday evening; i tried applying the steroid.) Sit on the deck and listen to the meditation script.