uncomfortable

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Seeking Comfort.

Feeling uncomfortable. The heat making it difficult for me to settle down to sleep. Anxiety rises. Feeling uncomfortable. Break the cycle, change the temperature. Close up the house and turn on the air conditioner. Feel guilty for needing to do that tonight for a matter of two degrees Celsius. But it’s my comfort threshold. Over 27°C air temperature and my body gets very uncomfortable. There’s that word again. Fan air movement is not enough to compensate for the heat trapped by my body against the bed mattress. I really don’t like feeling uncomfortable.

I remember feeling uncomfortable so often as a child. Unsure of school classrooms, being a quieter child, not speaking up, finding difficulty to make friends, feeling different – feeling uncomfortable. Feeling uncomfortable being teased for being smarter and less socially enabled. Feeling uncomfortable in the classroom with year-round allergies, runny nose, sore eyes, sensitive skin, twitchy muscles. Feeling uncomfortable go to an specialist and being conscious while they scrape an ulcer off my eye. Feeling uncomfortable with a sensitive eye and needing to wear sunglasses in primary school. Feeling uncomfortable with bullies and peers behaving in ways I didn’t understand.

I remember feeling uncomfortable and being self-conscious around most other people. Later, feeling uncomfortable about my mental state, anxiety and depression, unable to calm racing thoughts. Feeling uncomfortable about asking for assistance. Feeling uncomfortable about doing my self-improvement work. Feeling uncomfortable about taking medication. Feeling uncomfortable about the physical side effects.

Feeling uncomfortable in a relationship that wasn’t as supportive as I needed. Feeling uncomfortable talking to a partner who wouldn’t enter emotional territory. Feeling uncomfortable persisting with a relationship that was growing apart. Feeling uncomfortable about ending the relationship. Persisting. Feeling uncomfortable. Finally realising the uncomfortableness of staying was worse than the possible uncomfortableness of leaving.

I’ve always sought comfort. To feel safe, and loved. To distract me from the physical and mental unpleasantness that was being alive. Never receiving the guidance to navigate difficult conditions. Never having someone understand me enough to offer the support I needed. Rarely feeling comfortable in myself.

Until I took control of my life. Went out and made happen what I desired. Found the people I wanted, who turned out to be the friends I needed.

And still at times, I default to seeking comfort. When I’m unsure, worried, not thinking clearly. Do I seek comfort for peace? Is my discomfort a result of self-care lacking? Sometimes you move way past your normal comfort requirements and make new discoveries. Sometimes other needs surpass the desire for comfort.

Is comfort more a state of mind? Is it achievable more often and far more simply than I realise?

There is comfort in writing – in creating something with meaning out of struggle. There is comfort in processing and determining self thoughts.

Tonight as my body cools, as I finish writing and my brain becomes tired from the process, and as music has eased me through this task, I feel the approach of comfort. Feel the quiet, calm, cool rest that is my sleep into comfortable.

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When You Close Your Eyes Before Screaming.

The emptiness hit me tonight
While out at the weekly markets shop
It wasn’t exhaustion, like other times
It wasn’t darkness or depression, like other times
It wasn’t grief or sadness, like other times
It was a sudden stopping of the energy
and enthusiasm
that I had carried for the past 2 days.

The emptiness hurt tonight, because
Suddenly I wasn’t the me that I like to be
The me that engages with others
That brings and shares energy
That creates the life he wants
The me that is victorious.

Suddenly I was the helpless
the defeated, unworthy, guilty,
ashamed me
Lost and helpless, to the whim
of some unknown action.

I focussed on positives, grasping for a lifeline
I stopped and breathed, grasping for peace
I tried to let go of it all, grasping for anything else
But still resisting the present
Still resenting this present.

And feeling that none of this was “working”
(that is, none of my efforts were changing the situation)
I cried out in my head
I closed my eyes and breathed and said
“This is not me.”
“This is not me.”

And just maybe there was something
In that release of control
In that pleading for release
That shifted the angst
That unstuck me just enough
To take a little step forward
Just one step away from that place
Towards tomorrow
Towards whatever may come my way.

Life is moments
Some we want to last forever
Some, we would rather forget
But, whatever the reason, whatever the feeling
I think that we have a hand in the outcome
I think that we have some say in our future
I think that maybe we are more in charge
than we realise, a lot of the time.

.
===
.

[ I had forgotten that this week started roughly for me. Monday morning I was feeling vulnerable and lost. With some support at the start of the week, I pushed through the days, focussing on whatever positives I could find. I had forgotten that it takes energy to push through all that I did. I had forgotten that being energetic and sharing that energy with others can be draining sometimes. So maybe all of that contributed to what happened tonight. Maybe I just want there to be a reason, whether in my control or out of it. Because I don’t want to know that this could just happen anytime, for no apparent reason. ]

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Uncomfortable Lesson.

Uncomfortable situations
Bring longing
For change
Something other than what we feel right now

But what is that feeling?
Acknowledge it
Look around it
What can we learn from it?

The uncomfortableness
Is pushing at our heart
To communicate
Something we need to learn right now

(4-12 December)

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Surviving School Summer Day Trips.

I live opposite a primary school. In fact the school crossing is right out front. On weekends and during holidays it’s rather quiet. And when I’m having a slow morning, I hear all the noises and chatter of children arriving, crossing monitors, parents’ vehicles, and finally the school siren signalling the official start of the day.

At this time of the year, when school will finish up in a week or so, I also hear the buses. School day trips where the children hop onto big commercial buses and head off to, well wherever they head off to.

All these sounds, in particular the buses (the hiss of air brakes, parked, but engines still rumbling) bring up memories from long ago. Over thirty years’ past. My experience was summer day trips to a swimming pool somewhere up in the hills. I suppose it was intended to be a change of environment, with a scenic enjoyable ride. Or perhaps one of the teachers lived up that way and had an association with the area. But my memories are not particularly fond of these times.

I recall feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps the shift away from the known structure of a typical school day. I recall feeling lost and confused. Why were we doing this? Where were we going?

I have always had a good sense of where I am spatially, a sense of direction. As in North is that way, so home is this way. Something to do with growing up in a city based on a square grid street layout. Occasionally getting disoriented, and feeling very confused until I find my North reference again.

Anyway, back to school day trips. I only ever recall these uncomfortable, unpleasant feelings and worries. Where is my lunch – did I remember it? It’s going to get very warm before lunchtime – I don’t like warm sandwiches in summer. When is lunchtime – how will I know when we are allowed to eat? Did I remember my bathers, my towel? Will there be change rooms or do we need to change before we leave?

And then the kids. Bus behaviour. Outside of classroom behaviour. Some enjoy the fun, some revel in the chance to misbehave under less supervision. Bus journeys were a strange thing at that age. We always walked to school, fine weather or rain – the one and half kilometres or so. We rode our bicycles to the local shops. Family car trips to farther afield. Four-wheel-drive trips to the outback. Buses were a foreign experience. As were these day trips.

Am I any better these days? Sometimes the unknowns of a new journey can be terrifying, especially travelling in a foreign country. But I always survive. Often it is even fun. It’s just that, having spent most of my junior years trying to avoid the personal unpleasantnesses of daily life (and for me there were so many), it’s still my instinctive reaction to unfamiliar situations. I don’t like being too hot – too cold, too tired, too headachy, itchy eyes and runny nose from hayfever. These all impact on my ability to enjoy a situation. Am I oversensitive to the impact of these ails? Or is my body so sensitive to the many everyday provocations, that it takes so much effort to keep up and survive?

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Comfort and Feelings.

my life currently
is emotional uncertainty

feelings
so many feelings
a day full, in a moment
a year full, in a day
struggling with them
brings sorrow and sadness
accepting
and letting them exist
is my biggest challenge
exhaustion
from the battle

need a touch
a comforting presence
to remind me
gently
its okay
these feelings are okay
they are part of you
let them pass through, and exist
don’t resist
you are worthwhile
you are loved
you are not alone

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No Apology.

I’m not saying sorry
I won’t apologise
I meant what I said
and I said what I meant
and I meant what I said one hundred percent.
I know you felt hurt
By my unintentional ranting
But I had been hurt so much
by your actions
by your words that shut me down
that had no love for me
that put up a barrier
because you were uncomfortable with my feelings.
So I had to let you know
as rationally as possible
that letting someone vent
is ok, even
if you think they are being silly
at technology frustrations
Just let it go
As I was attempting to
But don’t shut me up
Because of your own insecurities.

.

[ my response to Pooky’s Poetry Prompt 31 – Apology. With apologies only to Dr. Seuss ]