Healing attempts amidst chaos.

It's heartbreaking, how courageously my body tries to heal.

Uproot me from wherever I'm staying on a few hour's notice, resulting in a scramble to pack everything up and no energy to unpack and settle in. I'm here on the couch, I managed to get the food in the fridge and change from jeans to sweatpants and that's it.

And yet, when I curl into the uncomfortable couch's pillows and pull the blanket over my legs that makes me sneeze if it's within a foot of my face, and rest my eyes for a moment, I feel it.

I feel magic happening.

As something inside me delicately begins to pick its way through the rubble of today's trauma to find the free release of healing.

I'm gobsmacked by it. And I'm pleased. And I'm concerned. Because I know how fragile that part of me is. In fact, I hadn't seen it for months. Only int he past 3 days has it begun to resurface in earnest, after a lengthy hiatus of life events forcing me to be too shut down.

And now this beautiful tendency to strike out boldly towards deep rest and healing every time I stop in life has returned, and just as it has done so the tumult increases exponentially.

The person who was going to loan me their far for 18 months so that I have a vehicle I can use keeps changing the date I actually get it.

My family's place, where I was always welcomed at before, has out of nowhere decided that the white noise I use for sleep is too disturbing and I may not use it another night.

I'm scared. Terrified, actually. The nuts and bolts key to functional life is dependent on people who are entirely unreliable, unpredictable, and whose attitude towards me as a person changes by the day. My life is a constant story of being sent reeling by one shock after another.

Without a caregiver, most days I don't get enough food to eat. I'm usually sleeping 2-4 hours a night, waking frequently. I have no home. Nowhere I'm settled. I have no transportation, no way of escape. When I have to leave somewhere, then the phone calls begin, and I feel like a pan handler begging for a few spare coins. A car ride here, a stay at your place for the night there, a "pick up a few things for me" there. And I thank people profusely and I'm the sweet little thing they expect of me because dammit my survival depends on it.

I was working on the caregiver thing, except today's events means I won't be able to make tomorrow's phone calls, or the next day's meeting plans to go over car stuff...

Life is like an ocean with waves perpetually too massive and choppy to have any hope of keeping your balance and obtaining your sea legs.

And people who don't actually see how rough the waters are where we area can't understand why we can't just adjust and gain our sea legs when in reality these circumstances would knock anyone down repeatedly no matter how robust they are or how well they adapt to a little unexpected rocking of the boat. We're talking massive waves, here. All the time. Unexpected. There's just no chance.

And yet....whenever there's a moment of calm, a part of me is reaching. Reaching for the beauty, the stability, the relaxation. I ache for that part of myself to find what it seeks.


Beautifully written and well done, to find that part within. Sending you heart-felt good wishes and imagining a hug and a soft cozy blanket enfolding you. ahmo
"And I thank people profusely and I'm the sweet little thing they expect of me because dammit my survival depends on it."

and the sad thing is we have to do this acting very very grateful even when the person isnt treating us right... as you know, its survival.

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