Pieces Of Peace

I was just feeling hassled. Too many calls on my time, too many things to focus on. Simple feelings. Nothing new about any of it.

All that’s different is that I can handle less on my plate now.

But what’s also different, and something that’s arisen in more recent times, is that these days I can recognize when I’m at my limits. And I can call a halt. A halt to what I’m doing. And a halt to my own frustration.

xxxxxx

And so today I can go to bed tired, but not emotional. I’m just tired.

Pieces of Peace

Quick to anger. A quick temper. I’m not sure either are accurate descriptions of me. I’ve always been prone not to anger but to frustration – with others, yes, but predominantly with myself. I rarely used to show it; rarely show it now. I’ve been called ‘laid back’ many a time.

I’m told I was easily upset when I was in the rehab ward, but that I’d readily lapse, revert, into peace too. The upsets were largely momentary, though I was often too confused to properly relax. Pieces of peace. At best, a confused and fragmented peace of sorts.

Where does that all come from? I’m not sure I can unearth any roots.

I recall another patient – brain damaged too, I guess – wandering the ward, looking into my eyes but only responding with the merest flicker, visibly befuddled but somehow not flustered, not panic stricken. This was not long before I was allowed to come home. Perhaps we had similar brain-states. Perhaps an odd, reaction-dampening confusion is a common consequence of brain damage. I can only hope we have a shared story of recovery.