Saw Dr H yesterday. There was much to communicate as we had not met for almost three weeks. I had prepared a two page meeting inventory, a list of topics to discuss. After departing, I felt the session went well. I was able to present all my issues in a relatively succinct manner. I credit the meeting inventory, the product of a long string of sleepless nights during which I wrestled with coming to grips with my life.

One of the topics addressed a recent insight. This concerns a dynamic I am beginning to recognize with more frequency. The latest instance derives from attempting to update contact information in the new phone.

I have used stylus devices since the days of the Palm Pilot and its Handspring derivative from over 14 years ago. I found an old Handspring during the recent house clean up. I cannot remember if I saved it, or threw it out, but I do remember making extensive use of it in years past to record bike commuting routes, and travel times. I had no problems with stylus based entry and no difficulty learning to use the Handspring. I don’t think I even bothered to refer to the manual. I am not even sure the device came with a manual.

On the new phone, I sought to add some new contacts and update old ones. This proved both difficult and immensely frustrating. I am not sure if the cause was me, the device, or my manner of use. One issue does appear device related. When entering postal codes, say “K1R,” the device will automatically interpret the entered data. The interpretative software changes the R to a P and then enters that character string so the entry ends up reading “K1P” not “K1R.”

After much frustration, I discovered the way to prevent this unwanted change is to click on the entry choice option displayed above the mini-keyboard. This confirms the desired input, and prevents the device from seeking to enter its own algorithmic interpretation.

Another difficulty arose when entering a new contact. The device defaulted to stylus based cursive text entry. The keyboard was not displayed, only the cursive text entry box. I could find no way to call up the keyboard other than replacing the stylus in its storage slot and immediately removing it. This displayed the keyboard. There must be a better way.

Even though I became completely frantic performing these relatively simple tasks, I sought to persevere. I completed six entries and it is now almost 3 o’clock. So much for a good days work.

The other thing I noticed, and the core reason for this post, is that when I encounter frustration my impulse is to quit the difficult task and shift to another activity. I will retreat into activities such as writing a blog post (I know that this calms and soothes me), or messing with photographs (another soothing activity), washing some shirts (hand washed four of them in between bouts of cell phone frustration), or going into the kitchen and cooking up a storm. I suspect this last is partial reason for my weight gain. I become frustrated and agitated, retreat into the kitchen, and engage in a few hours of therapeutic chopping and  messing about (another soothing activity) before sitting down to eat whatever was just cooked.

Meeting Inventory – Frustration Dynamic

To put this in succinct form: I appear to be subject to a dynamic in which I experience frustration as a trigger event. This trigger redirects me toward a calming activity. I have identified four distinct forms of intervention:

• Writing (blog posts and similar written notes)
• Photography (a photo walk, or other involvement with images)
• Clean up (strong preference for hand washing clothes)
• Cooking (large quantities of standard foods)

The frustration also triggers an intense longing for a simple job, one that is within my capacities, that I can then begin to normalize my life around and engage in some form of ordinary social contact.