Day 586 – Four Hours To Move On

I will start with today. This moment. I am sitting at home. My apartment that I’ve lived in for 12.5 years. In the heart of the City of Angels. I have on a nightgown of sorts, a peachish pinkish colored short dress looking thing. The heater is on. I’m sitting on the couch covered with a blanket. The couch has books under the base because the base cracked.

The couch is multi-colored. A blue base with a busy, circular pattern on it. My laptop is on my lap, my phone is on the arm of the couch to my left, and my journal is on the couch to my right. On the end table, there is a plastic orange bowl filled with fruit – orange slices and grapes -, a bottle of water and a plastic tray with crumbs from snacks just eaten.

I am struggling to breathe. There is a tingling sensation on the right side of my body. My housemate just came out of his room to tell me he wants to eat food and to call me a bad lady because I didn’t make food for him. It is his way of joking, he says. I say he full of shit but I refuse to give him my energy today.

His interaction is his way of trying to open up a door so he can ask me to have sex with him or so that he can eat all my energy. And just like that, my focus is gone.

This is why my leg hurts… Oooh. This is the deep thing to heal. I can not breathe and my leg hurts because I feel afraid. I feel afraid because I am completing many things quickly and that means that i will be back in the world again. In fact, I will be in the world in a way that I’ve never been before. I feel afraid of being back in the world because there are people like my housemate everywhere in the world. People who don’t care about you and only want to take from you or manipulate or use you. People who will destroy everything meaningful to you in order to try and control you.

I manifested a monster right into my house. He is the outpicturing of my deepest beliefs about life, men, and others, and he is my opportunity to be free at last. “Women are too bad, boys are too smart, problems won’t finish, try to enjoy,” he sings as he makes his own food in the kitchen.

This is not where I was expecting to go when I started writing this blog. Now my left shoulder hurts and my uterus is in a rage…

I went online to scroll. My body tapped itself out for a bit, and now, finally, ladies and gentlemen, I am going to deal with this sh*t because I can’t hide out from the world forever.

First, what is the problem? The problem is that my body reacts negatively to any kind of forward motion – muscle pain, confusion, panic attacks, trouble breathing – because it feels afraid of coming back to the world. I have my reasons. I’ve been hurt by the world in many ways for a long, long time. Trauma. And up until recently, not only was I hurt, but I couldn’t quite understand what was going on because I was gaslit by the offenders, who will chip away at you through micro-aggressions forever and then tell you nothing is happening.

Other problem: a perfect reflection of why I am afraid of going back to the world lives with me and regularly reminds me of how awful the world is.

Solution. Take your power back… Jesus take the wheel.

Belief: If I become powerful, the world will hurt me more.

Solution: Change belief and become powerful.

New belief: When I become more powerful, I am more safe in the world. I am not alone. God is love.

You see, anything is possible. You can make anything mean anything. And so, you can make this situation mean that God hates you, or you can make it mean that God Loves you and is teaching you finally to use your power to be safe. Say no to negative energetic encounters. Partner with people on your level. Heal, heal, heal the subconscious trauma that blocks you from moving forward. Heal until healed. All the way. And say yes to environments that nurture, inspire and restore you.

This is an opportunity for you to break free, Laydie. Take it. You are getting old and this life will be over before you blink an eye…

My housemate went and cooked some food. He cooked food for me, too. He’s calling me to eat. It’s a trap and a trick. Lord. OK. This is it. This is why my back hurts and my leg hurts and my everything hurts when I think about going back to the world. Traps and tricks to get me to do what I want, and moreover, to get me to do what’s not safe for me. My head hurts and I can hardly concentrate at the moment. My heart is beating fast. What is the way out of all this?

l stopped writing. Breathed. Meditated. Pulled my energy back into my body. Some text messenger got his attention and he went to the room to text. The solution is focus. Easier said than done, but easier done when done and done and done and done again.

For a brief moment, I remembered what I had planned to do with this day. The moving forward that led me into panic attack in the first place. I had planned to complete things. Complete reading and editing a manuscript that I had planned to read and edit a long time ago. I had planned to get out of the house and get to a public place – a park or something, and finish reading and editing it. And I had planned to finish putting away and folding my clothes. And I had planned to finish sweeping and mopping the floor. Those three things are epic things that have been on my incomplete list forever.

The solution is to shift focus. Take action. My body tingles again as I find this clarity. I will stop overthinking now. I will fold and unpack this closet today. The experience that you have been trying to prepare me for over and over again is understood now.

I am in the world, whether I want to be or not. Although living in these walls with very little drama is safe, it is not invigorating. It is not fun. It is not joyful. It is not exciting. It is a waste of my gifts, talents and capacity.

The truth is, if I want to be fulfilled in any form or fashion, I will have to take the risk of living again. And what I know is that the time is now. Can you believe that with all of the things I’ve been through in life, this moving forward after being hurt… this finishing up of a cleaning of a closet… is the most frightening. And the cure is bravery. I want to find a way to make bravery fun and easy.

I see the story I have in my mind – me, trembling, shaking, triumphing. What if I could sing instead? Put on some music and laugh out loud like a maniac? I believe that I can do it. I’m doing it now. Finally…

I guess it takes time to heal. This took about four hours and I am grateful for four hours given to heal lifetimes of trauma. Four hours to finally show up for myself in life.

xx

Day 586

Four Hours To Move On