e non vado fino in fondo nelle cose da un po’, come un palombaro, che faccio tutto a caso, un po’ ci riesco, un po’ no, che maleducato, maledetto me che lascio caos dove metto le mani (come?), come gli americani (chi?), gli incendi e gli uragani, volevo questa vita che però non sento mia, mi sento un elefante dentro una cristalleria… alzo il volume della radio, abbasso il finestrino e cambio l’aria, la mano controvento fa un elettrocardiogramma, che, detto proprio chiaro, ho il timore che sia piatto…
It seems the urge to write always strikes when I’m in a hotel somewhere. This time it’s in Sicily. And I’m writing today because as the queen of pattern recognition, I’ve noticed a pattern and I’m doing my damnedest to fight against myself and not repeat it. And I’m literally sobbing as I write this because I am so tired of disappointing myself. So tired of giving up when things are difficult. The truth is that I need to face myself, and I fucking hate that so much.
Yesterday was a very long day. And I felt the spiral coming despite all of my efforts to fight it. I went for a walk to clear my head and I sat by the sea and felt better. But the sun was setting and I headed back to my hotel before it got too dark out. And the spiral continued. A million thoughts were running through my head. I called my husband crying, telling him that I wanted to come home. He talked me off the ledge as usual. We both discussed how I was hungry and hadn’t slept yet in 30 hours and that tomorrow would be better. It was my godson’s birthday and I FaceTimed with him. And I got to speak to my cousin who is also a pro at this and helped talk me down. I drove around a little bit, came back, called my husband. Back and forth with feeling like I made the right decision coming here while also feeling sheer panic, complete with hot face and ears. I don’t know what time I fell asleep because I guess my body finally rationalized that exhaustion was going to win the battle. The only way to describe the feeling is complete terror. And I know that sounds absolutely absurd because I booked this trip and was excited about it, so what the fuck?
The last few years of my life, if you haven’t been reading along, have been really hard for me to navigate. Somewhere along the line I completely lost control of my nervous system. Irrationality is my go-to feeling for everything. It’s exhausting. But mostly, it’s not living. And so when I booked this trip, I was really excited. And about a week ago I started to feel really unsure. I questioned myself on everything. I could feel the anxiety slowly starting to take over. I wrote about it in my journal and tried to get myself back to neutral. But at this point, I don’t even know what neutral looks like. I have no baseline for emotions, it’s just pure fucking chaos. I listened to people ask me why I was going again; why my husband wasn’t going with me; what is the point of all this? And the truth is that I really can’t explain it to you. Because you’re not me. When I am sitting on my couch, the ache and pull I feel to come back here is completely overwhelming. It’s like a homesickness and it is relentless.
Last time I came to Sicily, it was everything that my first trip should have been. I did not allow myself to spiral. I enjoyed it so much that I was so sad to leave. And so I don’t know where the fuck all of this is coming from. And I refuse to let myself do what I did on the first trip. And bail when feelings get too overwhelming. I shit you not, I was looking at flights to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. And then got dressed and took a drive. I blasted All Time Low and sang at the top of my lungs. And then a friend sent me a video that made me sit and think for a bit. I am so afraid of everything, to the point where I am taking literal years off of my life with the amount of self imposed stress. But the choices we make are the choices we make. And it’s better to choose than not. And I can spend my life stressing about every little goddamn thing, or I can try, every once and a while, to just go with the flow. I can carry a bag full of things for any situation and just live my life. And not bail when it’s too overwhelming.
I am here for a reason. And it sounds weird to anyone I explain it to, but every time I come across a new piece of information regarding my lineage here, my heart explodes with anticipation to come back. So that’s why it really bothers me that my first instinct on a really exhausting day was to fucking leave. I work really hard and make sure everything is nice for everyone but me. I make myself smaller to make sure everyone else is okay. And so yea, maybe it doesn’t have to be this drastic, maybe I don’t need to flee the country solo, but I’m telling you that there is something here for me. And if I would just calm the fuck down and get out of my head, I would hear it. I heard it the last time I was here, and if I just give myself some time, I know I’ll hear it again.
A little over two years ago, no one even knew we were from Sicily. And I remember feeling betrayed when I found out. Not really sure why it mattered to me so much, but at that time I was deep in the throes of this spiritual awakening and it hit me like a ton of bricks. And now this is the third time I’ve been here. And some people think I’m batshit crazy, and others just get it and know that giving me a sideways comment won’t change whatever it is I’m doing. I know that I’ve grown and changed a lot, as much as it sometimes feels like I haven’t changed at all. But the fact is that I’ve been to Sicily THRICE. Things that I imagined have come to fruition. And maybe the situation always seems like total chaos, but when I step back and look at the bigger picture, there’s a lot that’s changed.
So, don’t ask me what I’m doing here. I don’t know yet. I finally stopped crying and decided to give myself a chance. The only flight I can change to involves me taking a 9:30 PM flight out of here tomorrow followed by 11 hours in the Rome airport before the flight home. So, no. We aren’t doing that. Take it day by day, breathe, and know that you can do hard things. You don’t need to be making things more difficult than they are. I am a functioning human being out in the world and I just need to keep reminding myself of that.
One last thing I want to touch on, because I feel like it’s important, and then I’ll stop making you read more things. My cousin reminded me yesterday that I carried something new with me on this trip: Grief. It is my father’s family that led me here, and he just passed away in August. His death made me feel peace for him, not overwhelming grief, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. I discovered after he passed that he and I were way more alike in terms of our internal blueprint. We both always felt like we didn’t deserve to be loved. And how we chose to be out in the world is where we were different. My father was a man of very few words and if he saw tears, he told you to rub some dirt in it and knock it off. Where I would go in the complete opposite direction and give all the love I could give to make someone feel better. And I hope that now, wherever he is, he knows that he was loved despite all of his efforts to deflect, and that he finally is able to accept it.
So for now, I will stop crying, rub some dirt in it and knock it off. You don’t get this many chances to figure it out and maybe it’s time for me to leap even if I’m terrified. Most importantly, I can’t give up on myself.
As always, thanks for reading. I’m always here if you need me…
e anche se dentro a me c’è questa baraonda, qui c’è un silenzio che mi ride a squarciagola, che quelli come me fanno finta, che non sia dura, non sia in salita, che sia tutta vita…
Song name: A SQUARCIAGOLA/ Artist: OLLY/ Year: 2024
TALKING ON EGGSHELLS 