This post is stream of consciousness. To record and work through.
Woke up with a nervous stomach. So many things to do, so many more things now, left undone. PTSD? Maybe. It might have been enough emotional trauma, to retire, to move my son 2000 miles away, to move myself 1500 miles away, to leave all the people I loved, and the place I’d lived for 40 years.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Apparently I needed to get rear ended, have a wickedly sore neck and back, and no car, and only one friend who has a car which is 20 years old. I am grateful for her, for sure.
I needed to get on the phone and start dealing with this shit. This morning I got a rental car, Enterprise is coming here this afternoon at 3. I called my insurance adjuster, and he recorded the full report. I spoke to the man who’s going to appraise the damage, I spoke to the garage where it was towed. I paid my homeowners bill because I just thought that might be a good idea with the hurricane coming, even though it is not supposed to hit us on the far west coast of Florida. I took care of changing my voters registration. I texted with a bunch of my friends up north who were worried about the hurricane. I got the ink cartridge changed in my printer, I cleaned up some of the papers and loose stuff laying around.
I wrote, a couple of poems. I struggled with them.
Then I went to therapy, which is like spending an hour at the spa. I got a wonderful back/neck rub which really really helps. She also put ultrasound on my neck and back, to break up the knots, and relax the muscles. I like this dr, who doesn’t push pain medications, instead uses alternative therapies. The massage therapist is wonderful.
I feel better now. Not so unsettled. Not so vulnerable. Not so much at the mercy of the fates.
Tomorrow I have to drive to my car and get the plates off of it, to send them back to CT. Then, I guess, it’s wait to see how much they’ll give me. In the meantime, I can get back to doing stuff for the house. Thursday we’ll go to Open Mic night again. Saturday or Sunday I’ll go over to my sisters, and do some laundry, and maybe go to the beach, or hang by her pool. It’s supposed to be gorgeous. Hot, and dry.
My life will start getting back to what it was Monday before the accident. I hope. It’s the most we can do, isn’t it? About most things, is hope that they will turn out like our dreams. Live as if they will, as if they already have. Only the last step, the actualization of our hearts desire, should be left to manifest. Lord knows, just being here, in this house is the manifestation of a huge dream. I could have been clearer, I guess, and specified, “No trauma…no more.” I will do that next time I set intentions, lol.
Love and light everyone.