I sat listless on my pink couch.
“Tanya’s Couch”, they’d begun calling it.
It was so ugly, old, and repellent. The stuffing was coming out and it had questionable stains. It even smelled funny—no wonder they named such an object after me.
I had argued with Zuri in the car, and said some nasty things. Now I was only tired. So very tired.
Too tired to care anymore.
Too tired to make an effort and lie to Zuri
Too tired to fight with God.
I just stopped struggling.
With the acceptance that I was nothing short of a disgusting dumb animal—intelligent, but an animal nonetheless—I had given in to life and all it threw at me. I escaped my drab existence as often as I could, each time hoping I would never return. And when I wasn’t away, I was only . . . tired.
I continued going to the meetings. What’s more, I even talked a bit. I didn’t sit in their circle—oh no. But I participated from my seat in the couch.
True, I began by making questions meant to stir discord within the group and aim resentment at me. But they considered my questions seriously, which was actually kind of funny. In time, as they neither looked shocked or annoyed by what I brought up, I shut up. Or on rare occasions I actually asked questions in earnest.
But not often.
And during testimonies and prayer requests I told Zuri that if she could pray for my Cousin Eva’s health I was sure my prayer request would be more likely to be answered, because I thought I was already far beyond the reach of God.
And yet, I never imagined that giving up the struggle was the beginning of my healing, and the first step of many in the long road back to Him.
part 10 of If You Only Knew