Lingering spirit…

(Unedited) I remember this driver. She’s picked me up before…on one of those mornings when I wanted silence and 90s r-n-b/soul sounds, all at once. She, heavy hearted, life hasn’t been kind to her. I observed but wasn’t interested in turning my “spidey senses” on to offer healing energy. (I don’t stay “on” all the time). She was an inpatient driver, and fidgety, not like drug induced, but more like trauma induced. She got me to my destination safely and told me to have a blessed day.

I remember this driver. Her energy heavy, yet resilient. She’s lingered with me and I sorta regretted not being “on,” but savior nor martyrdom are my lanes–both prevent me from being great. Lol lol. I laugh, not because it’s funny, more like, lbvs (laughing but very serious), cos when I was younger I misunderstood “supporter,” for “savior.” Misunderstood that if you deemed yourself “needing to be saved,” then that’s all about internal self-work, not external. Real talk, the only person we can save is ourselves.

Weeks later she showed up a second time. Me not feeling well, but pressing my way. We recognize each other, but neither felt like verbally acknowledging it. Don’t remember how we got there, but she disclosed that she’d swallowed a bone. I suggested bread, a ball of rice and vinegar.

Years ago my mama supported my uncle staying alive with this regiment after he’d ingested a bone.

The driver was thankful for my tips.

She then shared that in 2010 she’d been shot in her chest and the bullet exited out her back. Since it exited, that’s considered 2 shots, she explained in great detail.

She said she suffers from PTSD and the shooter, a young man who looked her in the face and she said “shoot me then…,” and he did, jus got out of jail though, she had witnesses.

She is scared.

She is being triggered by talmbout it. I redirect the conversation as to settle her nervous system and to make sure she doesn’t accelerate when she should be slowing down in traffic. I wasn’t feeling unsafe, just mindful. After redirecting her, breathing between words, staying calm and being in the moment, I quickly pulled up, in my phone, resources.

The doctor had given her an antidepressant, SSRI, but it has long stopped working. I shared places to go to get mental health support as it’s clear she is somewhere between loosing her mind and being too scared to die–hopeful by default.

She asked my age.

I tell her 42.

She says I look young and have a young spirit, but I’m wise.

I arrive at my destination safely. She thanks me, and offers me her personal cell number. She offers free, and reduced fee, rides cause I’d been so helpful and treated her like a human. Interesting choice of words, I thought. I exited her vehicle repeating her words in my head. “Treating her like a human.”

I also remember her saying that they had to put a tube through her. She said that the tube entering one side of her chest and exiting the other, hurt more than being shot. Her body and words recalled the moment–it felt like a sheet of glass going through her. Hence, not wanting to go to the hospital for the bone in her throat. She hates hospitals.

Once again her spirit lingers. Now 2 days ago and her well-being pops in my head as I practice self-care.

The more stressed out you are, the longer you should meditate.

     ©2017nj #shebloomsblack

 

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