Grump

Is there something about getting older that makes you more susceptible to irritation?

I’ve always had limited patience with certain things, people with no common sense, bad drivers, etc., but looking back on the last few years I’ve noticed my patience is almost non-existent.

Irritation with everything is more normal than patience over a few things. It’s as if the scales have tipped.

Do all those little annoyances just pile up on their side of the scale until there is no way for the other side to balance?

Had I known I would have tried to be less annoyed earlier in life; added more of those easy moments of patience to the tray.

Instead here I am only half way through life and I’m pretty sure at this rate the scale is just going to break, burying me under a pile of grumps.

If you see me trying to buy a rocking chair for my front porch to comfortably yell at passersby, please try to distract me with a cute puppy until I’ve forgotten how comfy it would be to sit out there under a quilt like a crazy lady.

Allergies

This topic has been coming up a lot. My allergies, today we dealt with puppy allergies for added fun.

My own allergies have always been seasonal but I think as I’m getting older I’m developing new food related ones.

I am not pleased eating is hard for me anyway, most vegetables make my mouth start to go numb, a number of fruits too. Current symptoms seem to be the result of dairy (well fake dairy, I about regular dairy) or sugar or bread.

Umm, does that even leave me with a good group? Water? That isn’t a for group, but it seems to be the only thing that doesn’t bother me, except when it interacts with other food issues and then it is a problem.

What can I eat? Air? Not a food.

I need a pill that I can take once a day that covers all necessary dietary requirements. Why do we but have this yet? Or do we but it was suppressed by the food and restaurant industries? I mean other people can still eat for fun – don’t penalize those of us for whom eating is a hassle/chore/unpleasant experience by forcing us to consume things that don’t agree with us.

I’m going to go have some air and water as a snack before bed. Nom Nom Nom.

My Repeating Annoyances

I am sure we all have a list like this, the things that no matter how many times they happen, we never learn our lesson or seem to be able to avoid falling prey to their irritation.

  • Laundry will be done and in need of folding exactly when I want to just crawl into bed.
  • Related: Forgetting to make the bed with the clean linens until I’m wanting to crawl into said linens and go to sleep.
  • Putting an item I need to take somewhere beside the door, then leaving without said item.
  • Related: Needing to bring something home from work that I don’t remember until I’m pulling into the driveway.
  • Finding the energy to do some thing around the yard, that I’ve been procrastinating about, at the exact time it starts raining/snowing/whatever so I have to put it off again.
  • Trying over and over to buy back ups of my favourite clothes when they’re on sale but not managing to do it before they get a hole in them or completely wear out, forcing me to go without said favourite clothes or buy them at full price.
  • Grabbing an extra piece of paper towel, every time, until the entire roll is basically in piles of folded napkins on my coffee table/desk.
  • Meaning to call, text or email someone before they contact me and 99% failing by minutes.
  • Being exhausted beyond words right up until the moment my head hits the pillow when my brain starts thinking ALL THE THINGS.
  • Related: Thinking about people no longer in my life when my brain bounces randomly around from thought to thought then hits one tangentially connected to said people but this time gets stuck instead of bouncing off to the next thought.
  • Realizing I have to replace/recharge the batteries in something just as I need to use it.

Obviously these are just as the title says, annoyances, in their existence and their recurrence. Are they signs of a distracted mind? Probably. A busy one too.

We all have so much on our plates these days little annoyances are bound to pop up. Some toxic optimist would say you can’t have pleasing things without these types of experience for perspective.

Well I say I should be old enough now to not require examples in order to form obvious conclusions.

Knowing and writing this will not help. I’ll absolutely do at least one of these things within the next week.

I guess I should get used to them, but what fun is there for a stubborn, argumentative soul if they don’t have insignificant problems to complain about?

Time to go curl up in bed on a pile of clean linens while thinking about people I don’t want to and trying to fall asleep. 😉

Mothers

Have you ever noticed that arguing with your mother is basically pointless?

I’m not talking about big things here, just the everyday.

That money you’re sure you owe them, but they refuse to acknowledge they lent you.

The no gifts policy at birthdays and holidays that they implemented but somehow doesn’t apply to them.

The necessity of keeping “mementos” of events or things you barely recall having happened or existing.

You know, the general stubbornness that seems to grow ever more intense the older they get.

Which only causes your own stubbornness and annoyance to grow at a commensurate rate.

Yup, that’s Mothers.

Sure you love them, but sometimes that hermit life seems pretty tempting. Especially when they are unyielding in their denial of the existence that $28 you owe them, while handing you $50 on your birthday along with a newspaper clipping of you at some random childhood experience you don’t remember.

New Mechanisms

The past few years have been, well shitty, for many of us. One way or another the pandemic has affected our lives, added another layer of stress to what, for many, was already too much.

I definitely have felt like more than one layer has been laid upon my life. Getting older comes with a few built in challenges for ourselves physically and mentally, plus from our families who are also getting older and experiencing similar challenges.

As you grow up you realise your parents won’t be around forever, but you hope it won’t impact your life too much. It does, no matter when it happens, but especially when you aren’t ready for it.

Happening during a stressful time in the world doesn’t help.

Happening when you have an extra stressful job half the year doesn’t help either.

Yet, some things have a habit of happening when you are least prepared for them.

I’ve said I vent here, to my (ever patient) friends, to my physical health practitioners. Well tomorrow I’m adding mental health practitioner.

Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I’m going to SEE if that is something that could help me deal with my stress/grief/anxiety.

I have never spoken with a mental health practitioner (counsellor/psychologist/etc) as far as I recall (my brain has a habit of archiving it’s harddrive, I’m the worst at remembering my own past).

Tomorrow I will try to discuss my life with a stranger – this could be interesting. If nothing else maybe tomorrow I’ll have something to write about – or are you not supposed to do that? Guess I will find out.

A Long Time Ago…

That sounds like the opening to a novel. This is not a novel, but one has to start a story in some manner, so why not.

A long time ago, I used to be able to write whenever I put my fingers on the keyboard or a writing utensil to paper. It was a feeling like the words wanted to be created. Not that those words together necessarily formed anything that was worth reading, but they existed and that felt like an accomplishment.

When I say a long time ago, I don’t know exactly how long, decades maybe, but time seems to become less rigidly calculable the older I get. I will think of an event and realize that it happened much more recently or distant than I thought. So long ago feels like decades, but may have been only years.

Either way that habit of writing that felt so natural has become more of an effort. I’m sure I can think of numerous reasons that I find myself at a loss for words. Exhaustion from work/life. Lack of interesting things to say because of a lack of time or energy to experience new things to discuss. Maybe our brains just become less skilled at certain things over time, other mundane thoughts and tasks taking over the space where those words once flowed.

Repetition becomes a habit. We tell the same stories over and over (am I doing that now?), instead of creating new ones; everything by rote. A little bit like how our lives tend to take on routines: wake up; go to work; eat some food; go to sleep; repeat.

For the majority of us, we don’t seem to break out of these routines often. Lives based on specific needs create scenarios to fulfil those needs. We have to work to earn money to have a life, so we do, perhaps to the detriment of said life. It is a fine balance and that repetition prevents us from falling too far from our comfortable little bubbles. Never leaving our little bubbles though means less input for new stories.

A long time ago I was young and learning all the things, now I am older, still learning but the lessons aren’t always as impactful and generally not as interesting to try to relay. These days I open this blog, desperately wanting to feel that natural flow of words, but I stare at the page and spend too much time wondering if anyone else will care about my words (sometimes I wonder if I am even making sense when I do write).

This is where I am, comfortable in my bubble, but lacking new experiences to describe to you or perhaps lacking the will to impart some of those recent experiences.

I don’t wish to be in the past, that time is gone, those lessons learned (or not), but I do wish my mind could revert back to that state of expression. Maybe it is something that can be achieved through habit, can you relearn natural expression or am I writing on repeat?

Black Hole

What do I want to write?

Stress.

I wish it was something I had more control over.

I’ve said it before I obsess, which isn’t a great quality when you are under stress. It means you then obsess over all the things causing you stress.

I would say that 75% of the time I deal with my stress pretty well. Venting my thoughts helps. Apologies, and thanks, to all those who’ve had to listen/read. I think letting them out prevents me from getting an ulcer or obsessing to distraction.

That other 25% is where the obsessive personality causes issues.

Dwelling on things that need to happen: house maintenance; making sure Mum has money; planning out everyone’s lives (because suddenly that seems to be my responsibility?); getting through tax season without having a complete meltdown; eating. Basically, there is a range from annoying chores to “OMG, I can’t do this!”.

All of these stressors are then either aggravated or assisted by various people, neither of which is helpful because I much prefer dealing with stress alone. Probably not the most reasonable approach, but I’m mostly only referring to that 25%. Those problems I am convinced would be solved if I could just deal with them and everyone else would just accept the resolution and shut up about it.

Instead, they are complicated by other people and I spend nights tossing in bed contemplating the problem from all angles, keeping myself up when I should be sleeping.

Thinking about stresses that were never meant to be mine, at least not yet, taking my time away from dealing with the stress in my own life or getting the sleep I need to work/live.

At times I catch myself thinking ‘hey, I think things are going well.’, then suddenly an appointment has to be made, a situation dealt with.

Stress is turning my brain to mush. It is building rage in my brain, that is going to come out in one long wail as I collapse in a heap on the ground. Except I’m pretty sure I’m losing my voice trying to talk over the people not listening to me when I try to explain the solutions to the problems – so I will just be falling to the ground my mouth a soundless void, a black hole – beware you don’t get pulled into its gravity.

Year 43: Day One

A new year; a new decade of life; a new season of the year. These are often the mile markers that so many like to use to decide to implement improvements in their lives. As if they have some special power that will help to foster the hoped-for changes. Surely to some extent, it can provide a starting point, but in reality, change will only happen when it wants to when the circumstances are just right. Change is nothing if not fickle, definitely friends with Fate and Chaos.

We want good things to happen to us, try manifesting them out of thin air. Often we focus too closely on creating the perfect vision of our lives that we don’t see the big changes that are about to hit us from another direction.

The past couple of years dealt several blows collectively to the world and personally. Watching friends and family, strangers even, deal with all manner of complications to their lives creates a miasma of emotions. Dealing with personal crises, family crises, work crises, world crises, can all be more than we’re prepared for – especially when they are all happening at the same time.

This is when we start looking for those changes we can control. Start meditating hoping it will calm the mind, create clarity in all the emotions. Exercise the body to spend excess or unwanted emotions. Take on a new hobby or read new books to broaden horizons. Shout at the void that is the internet through social media. Does any of it work? Controlling our narrative, our thoughts, our body? Perhaps, because some measure of control is at the very least a balm. Control makes that simplicity of the familiar bearable.

When we start questioning that is when we start to spiral out of control. Questioning the why, how and what of life, comparing to determine needed or unneeded changes. Unfortunately, the world tends to have too little transparency when we need it and too much opaqueness when we don’t – curated for presentation – making it hard to know where we truly stand in life. A constant balancing act to find control in our bit of universe.

This may be the start of a new year chronologically, insignificant in the everyday-ness of it, but important in that we are here to count it. To contemplate and try to express in words the chaos that has been and will be. To sound as pretentious as ever but to mean every word of it.

Today is day one of putting little thoughts here. Day one of trying to focus the mind on something other than surviving from one day to the next – emotionally and physically. Day one of remembering the things we used to enjoy. Day one of making a little change that may or may not survive past this night, but maybe it can echo until a new change occurs, one that Fate and Chaos approve of as well.

Day one of Year 43.