On The Couch

My days are all the same. I sit on the couch. I get on the computer, I watch TV. and, about once a week, I write. Sometimes I talk on the phone. Every couple of weeks someone comes out to visit me.

But everything I do, I do on the couch. I literally can’t think of anything to do. I literally have no desire to do anything, so I sit on the couch and BE.

No one really knows or sees the extent of my paralysis. No one would understand. I don’t understand. My cat has kept me company. He is a comfort and a buddy. I talk to him using my baby talk kitty voice. I love him up and cuddle him a lot. I’m grateful for my sweet kitty boy.

I talk to myself a lot. I talk to God, Raymond and my Daddy. I pray for a sign or some kind of guidance. I know I need to get off the couch but I can’t seem to do anything. I tune into my breathing, I feel peaceful. I accept that my life is quiet. My mantra has been, “It is what it is.” I have needed this time to heal. But I have a lot of “should’s” running through my mind. I should be doing something. I should be exercising. I should be open to dating. I should be able to drive on the expressway without having a panic attack. I should. I should. I should.

“Baby steps.” Isn’t that what they say?
In the two years and 5 months since Raymond has passed I have made some forward movement. I guess I need to list that movement in order to validate that I have done, and continue to do “some things” because most of my days are spent on the couch.

*Right after Raymond passed, the toilet broke. That was back when one of Raymond’s cousin’s was still talking to me and he helped me replace it and get it fixed.
* I went on a weekend up north with my family in summer 2012. It was a teary weekend, but I did it!
*I found a new therapist (my other one passed the Thanksgiving after Raymond passed).
*I helped my mom with the loving task of caregiving my dad, when he got sick.
*I spoke at my dad’s memorial.
*I bought a new couch, TV and refrigerator. Retail therapy!
*I re-modeled the deck with really comfy rocking chairs, a pretty rug, lots of plants and yard jewelry.
*I went to Denver with my mom for Lauren’s wedding.
*I get to the west side every other week and spend a night or two at my moms.
*I got off Effexor (an anti-depressant that I had been taking since I turned 50), which took 5 months, filled with terrible withdrawal effects.
*I got myself up north the summer of 2013, for the 7-year completion of my dream quest with my spiritual tribe.
*I’ve made some jewelry.
*I get an occasional massage.
*I see Karen almost every week.
*I spent the winter in Florida last year.
*I gifted myself with an etheric healing from Jule’ on July 17, 2014 and since then I’ve been doing my affirmations and visualizations she gave me, daily.
*I spent more time this summer out on rocking chair on the deck of my woodsy little home, appreciating nature.
*I quit smoking cigarettes! I’ve replaced those with a vapor nicotine thing.
*I’m laughing more and feel lighter.

After writing this list, I do recognize and acknowledge the steps I’ve taken. I see that some of them were not such “baby steps.” Now I find myself on the verge of taking two more big steps.

I’m going to apprentice with Jule’ in November. I have mixed feelings. It is an 18-month commitment and there will be a cost for this “higher education.” I look at it as an investment in my future. It feels like doing this course of study will change my life yet, the uncertainty creeps in. The doubt, the fear, the worry, that my ‘small self’ asks; “Will I get a clientele as an Etheric Healer? Will I actually start a practice? Will I have some purpose to my life?” Or will it be like when I became a Reiki Master and never really put myself out there to be a healer? I barely give Reiki to myself.

I am a hermit. I always have preferred to stay home and have people visit me than go visit them. My home is my safe space. My couch— this magnetic force that holds me, holds my sadness, my depression, and my lack of motivation. It also holds my hopes, my prayers, my affirmations, myself. It simply holds me, being me.

People tell me that I have to get out, “Just take a walk or go for a drive.” Logically, I know that. Once a month or so, I do go for a drive, up here on the St. Clair River, which Raymond loved. I enjoy it when I do get out, but mostly, I don’t want to get out. Really, what is there to do?

I’ve decided that if I moved back to the “west side,” I would have family and friends that I might do things with. At least, I would live close enough for them to come visit me. I am isolated out here. This was Raymond’s dream, not mine. I would have gone anywhere with than man— but he isn’t here anymore. I accept that fact and am so very grateful for my time with him. The truth is, I have no one here and nothing to do. I have put the trailer up for sale on the Mobile Home listing site. I have a feeling that it won’t sell until spring. The money I make on this place will have to go toward supplementing the higher rent costs in Plymouth, until I am eligible for my pension when I turn 60. My intention and prayer has always been, “This or something better.”

I received this quote in an e-mail today, it was obviously a message from my angels:
“Today may there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.”

So tonight, I sit and reflect on the steps I’ve taken these past two and a half years. I ponder what the future holds for me. I trust in divine timing and divine flow. These are my thoughts, here and now, on my couch.