Tag: mental-health

CANTILENE

oh, va bene, ti giuro che va bene, se prego, poi, magari Dio interviene, va bene, ti giuro che sto bene, malgrado le intemperie, e va bene, dai, mandiamo tutto all’aria, tanto, prima o poi, col vento tornerà…

There are some things I want to talk about in this post. It might feel a little all over the place at first, but hopefully by the end it makes sense. It’s a lot and I hope you’ll stick with me.

I’ve been doing a lot of breaking patterns, and it’s really fucking difficult. It’s not easy to reprogram 40+ years of survival, but I’m doing my best. Most days include laughing so hard I cry. Or just crying in general.

I’m not spiraling as much anymore- and I say that very loosely. Spirals still happen, but the amount of time I spend inside them is getting shorter and shorter. Unfortunately, I am not at the point where I can stop one before it starts. But being able to stop it before it completely takes over feels like a milestone worth noting. I’m still not sleeping. I still don’t fully feel safe or at peace in my body. I have faith that will come eventually, but I’m not there yet.

In my last post I talked about running a race I never signed up for. And honestly, I thought it was one of my best posts. I was humbled pretty quickly – it got 8 views. EIGHT. My reach isn’t very big right now. But the whole point of this space is to share honestly and maybe make people feel a little less alone. And I trust it will find the people it’s supposed to find. I’m not trying to stress about it. I know this blog has a sad girl vibe most of the time, and not everyone is into that. It’s fine. I’m not for everyone, and I’m finally becoming okay with that.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about something for a long time, and I’m going to do my best to put it into words. It kind of piggybacks off my last post, so here we go.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the movie It’s a Wonderful Life.

Little backstory: I fucking HATED this movie when I was young. My mother loved it and would gush about it every Christmas. And it is extremely on-brand for me to hate something completely out of spite. Honestly, it was one of the only forms of autonomy I felt like I had back then so I fucking HATED it. Hearing George Bailey yell “Zuzu’s petals!” would send me into a rage.

Recently though, I’ve become hyper-fixated on this movie. Teenage me would FOR SURE be disgusted with me. But the fixation has less to do with the ending of the movie and more to do with what happens after. I promise I’ll do my best to explain why.

The thing about George Bailey is that the movie allows you to watch an entire lifetime of self-sacrifice unfold in a single sitting. We meet him as a kid with big dreams. He wants to travel, build things, leave Bedford Falls, experience a life that feels larger than the one waiting for him at home. And then little by little, those dreams keep getting postponed. Everytime he gets close, something happens that requires him to stay.

Just this once. Just until things settle down. Just until someone else is okay. Just until the next crisis passes. Over and over again. And obviously, helping people you love is part of life. Sacrifice is part of being human. That’s not what I’m questioning.

It’s because all of this happens within the contained structure of a movie that you can actually see the pattern clearly. Over the span of 130 minutes, you watch someone slowly build a life around responsibility while drifting further and further away from themselves.

In real life, it usually happens slowly enough that compromises start feeling normal. The exhaustion becomes part of your personality. And I think that’s part of the reason why this movie hit me so hard at this point in my life and what makes George such a painful character to watch. Because none of his sacrifices are meaningless. The people around him genuinely benefit from his kindness. Entire lives are better because George Bailey stayed. But somewhere along the way, George himself disappears. I think two things can be true at the same time.

Watching George got me unconsciously thinking about all the times I pushed something I wanted aside because something else seemed more important. All the times I chose what I was supposed to do instead of what I actually needed. Not because my life is bad. It isn’t. I’m genuinely grateful for my life. But over the years, the last few specifically, something snapped. I’ve run myself completely into the ground in ways I didn’t even fully recognize. I’ve tied my worth to what I could do for the people in my life and completely lost myself in the process.

What makes everything more complicated is that when you spend a long time in that role, it doesn’t just become something that you do. It becomes something that people come to expect. And when you finally step outside of it, even a little, it can feel like that shift gets noticed immediately. The unspoken expectations are the hardest part. Because once you become the person that takes care of everything, it can quietly create a system where your availability becomes assumed. Where your capacity becomes relied upon. Where your presence is counted on in ways that no one ever explicitly said out loud.

And that’s where things start to feel invisible but heavy at the same time. Because you’re not just managing what you’re doing for others, you’re also navigating what they’ve come to expect from you without ever having agreed to it directly. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing for everyone. Again, this is part of life, being there for the people you love. But I also think that a lifetime of doing has gotten me to this point emotionally because some part of me is calling out for a little more.

Not more success. Not more things. Not some dramatic reinvention. Just more connection to myself. More honesty. More presence. More aliveness inside my own life instead of constantly moving through it in survival mode. Because helping people isn’t the problem. Loving people isn’t the problem. The problem is how easy it is to slowly disappear inside of constantly being needed. And I think somewhere along the way, I stopped realizing how much of myself I had quietly handed over. And maybe that’s why George Bailey suddenly felt less like a character and more like a mirror.

Thinking back on it now, what stands out to me most, is how often George’s sacrifices happen without real acknowledgement in the moment they occur. You can see it on his face – the disappointment, the frustration, the split second where his own plans shift again. But almost every time, life just continues moving forward. The situation gets resolved, the responsibility gets absorbed, and George returns to the role of the person keeping everything together.

Even when people are grateful – and they are in their own ways – it doesn’t always translate into awareness of what those patterns are costing him over time. And what makes that even more complex is that he isn’t unloved. There are people who genuinely care about him. Mary, especially, deeply loves him and never stops believing in him, even through the years of stress and exhaustion. That matters. But love doesn’t always equal awareness. She sees him and supports him, but she doesn’t see every internal fracture that builds through the years of constant self-sacrifice. So the weight of it ends up being something George carries entirely on his own.

Uncle Billy losing the money becomes the clearest example of the dynamic – not because it causes everything, but because it reveals how long George has already been operating this way. Cleaning up messes. Absorbing crises. Solving problems. Carrying responsibility that others don’t always fully register as heavy. And that’s why the breakdown feels so real. Because it isn’t really about the money. The missing money is just the final crack in a foundation that had been under pressure for decades. And that’s where the bridge exists for me.

It isn’t one moment that creates the collapse. It’s the accumulation of moments that don’t feel like collapse while they’re happening. Things build quietly. Repeatedly. In ways that don’t always have words attached to them in real time. Not dramatic or visible. Just a slow internal chipping away where your own needs are no longer as immediate as what everyone else needs. Until eventually there’s a point where something in you says “I can’t keep doing this the same way anymore”.

There is so much to be grateful for at the end of this movie. George survives. His family is together. The financial crisis is resolved. The community shows up for him in the same way he spent his entire life showing up for them. That matters. But I can’t help wondering what happens when the adrenaline of that night wears off. Because yes, the money problem gets solved. That was huge. It was the immediate crisis threatening to destroy him. But what actually changes for George Bailey after that? That’s the question I keep coming back to.

Clarence changes George’s perspective. He forces him to see just how much meaning and impact his life had even if it didn’t look the way he imagined it would. And maybe that realization saves his life. But what struck me was that the experience is completely internal. No one in his life knows what actually happened on that bridge. They don’t know he went there intending to end his life. They don’t know that Clarence intervened. They don’t know he was shown an entirely different version of reality where he never existed. That entire collapse and reconstruction is exclusive to George. It only belongs to him.

So everyone only sees the aftermath. They see him come home a changed man, having no idea what he went through to get there. And that’s where I stopped and really thought a lot. Do the people around him actually change? Do they suddenly stop depending on him? Do they suddenly realize what he’s been carrying all these years? Probably not.

That was a private breaking point. They did’t experience the moment where his entire identity, everything he believed about his value, was stripped down and rebuilt in a single night. To them, George came home grateful. Relieved. Renewed. But internally, I believe it was far more complicated than that. Because the external conditions of his life are still the same. The responsibilities are still there. The unspoken expectations are still there. The town still needs him. His family still needs him. And even if now he carries all of that with more perspective, perspective alone does not undo exhaustion. Being needed is not the same thing as being held. And that is where this movie feels so painfully human to me.

The ending isn’t false to me. I think George truly feels joy in that moment. I think he genuinely understands, maybe for the first time ever, that he matters. But I also think that healing from a lifetime of self-sacrifice would take far more than one beautiful night surrounded by people who love you. I think the next morning he is still George Bailey – maybe a little lighter, but the same nervous system, same patterns, same accumulated weight of everything he’s been carrying. I would like to think that in the aftermath of everything, it made people pause just a little before immediately handing him the next problem to solve.

And maybe I’m thinking too deeply about all of this. But George Bailey has become very near and dear to my heart. And it’s because I see a lot of myself in him. Not in obvious ways, but specifically in the quiet resentment that builds when you spend too long tying your worth to what you can carry for everyone else. And I think the reason I keep circling what happens after the movie ends is because I’m always trying to understand what happens when you stop surviving and start living. What do you do when you finally realize your life mattered, but you’re still left holding years of grief, shame, anger, responsibility, and unmet needs? How do you begin again after spending so long emotionally abandoning yourself just to keep going? And I think, in some strange way, I keep harping on what George Bailey would do next because I’m trying to figure out what I do next.

And this is where my thoughts expand beyond George Bailey. Because most of us are living on autopilot in one way or another. Not in a dramatic, movie scene kind of way, and not necessarily in visible crisis. But in the routines, responsibilities, and identities we build that keep us moving without ever really asking if they still fit who we are. So the question for me becomes: what does it actually mean to be living?

You can be functioning, productive, needed. You can be “fine”. And still feel completely disconnected from yourself underneath it all. And yea, maybe the rest of the world isn’t sitting in the kind of emotional breakdown that I’ve been experiencing, I understand that. Most people aren’t actively trying to rebuild their entire internal structure. But I do think most people are carrying at least one thing they don’t fully know what to do with. One question or one quiet uncertainty that hasn’t been resolved yet. And maybe it doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. But I also think there’s a point in life where something shifts – where something cracks open in a way that can’t be ignored anymore. And it doesn’t have to be this big, dramatic thing, but it’s enough to get you thinking.

For me, it felt like my whole internal structure got destroyed. And when that happened, it forced me into a space of figuring out what comes next. And it’s fucking scary. The things that used to keep me safe – even if they were just subconscious patterns, survival strategies, or ways to keep moving – just don’t work in the same way anymore. Or they stop working completely. And being dropped off in an unfamiliar in-between place where the old structure is gone, but the new one hasn’t formed yet, is fucking strange. It’s a place that’s disorienting and hard to explain unless you started walking through it. You can’t go back to how you were before, but you also don’t know how to fully exist as who you’re becoming yet.

And that’s what the last few years have been for me. It’s what my entire body of writing has been circling. My life isn’t bad – it’s actually full of things that I am so incredibly grateful for – but whatever way I was functioning before does not work for me anymore. I still carry all of the things, but it feels like I don’t know how. There have been moments where I have felt completely overwhelmed by my own mind. Moments where I’ve seen myself in that same place metaphorically – on that bridge – more times than I can count. Of course there are much bigger problems in the world. I know that. But this is still my experience, and it’s the one I’ve been trying to make sense of.

All of this has been an attempt to rebuild something while it’s still standing. To fix a foundation that I can feel shifting under me while still trying to function on top of it. And most days I feel like I’m failing. Like I’m letting people down. But watching this movie at this particular point in my life was unexpectedly important. It reflected things that I hadn’t fully been able to articulate in my own experience until now. It made me see patterns I didn’t even realize I was living inside of. And getting through this – whatever this ultimately becomes – is really the only goal that feels honest right now.

And I’m sure the director of It’s a Wonderful Life thought he was simply making a feel-good holiday movie. I don’t think he imagined that decades later, a 40-something woman having something of an internal crisis would be sitting here dissecting it and thinking of the aftermath. But maybe that’s the point. Stories don’t stay where they’re written. They meet us where we are. And sometimes you don’t find a movie when you’re ready for it. It finds you when you finally are.

For all the times in my life this movie was forced on me growing up, I think maybe this was the first time I truly saw it, and the first time I truly saw myself.

Maybe it really is a wonderful life. Maybe sometimes a shift in perspective is enough to help us find our way back to it. But I also think it’s okay to admit that we don’t always have it all figured out. That we are human, and sometimes we break. Maybe we all need a little more grace — for ourselves, for each other, and especially for the people quietly carrying more than anyone realizes.

As always, thanks for reading. I’m always here if you need me…

va bene pure se va bene, solo se a te va bene…

Song name: CANTILENE/ Artist: JVLI (ft. OLLY)/ Year: 2026

I WISH YOU STAYED

For the first post of 2026, I’m starting things off a little differently. No song today. This is most likely a one time thing, but in case you’ve been reading along and happened to notice, I just wanted to make sure I clarified.

I went to a Reiki session a few weeks ago and something really interesting happened in the middle of it. And it’s something that has been the driving force of the last few weeks of my life. I am going to do my best to try to explain it, and I hope it lands. If not, at least it’s here (shrugs).

I was on the table, warm and cozy, eyes covered, in a very serene setting. And I guess it was about 5 minutes before the healing session was over that it happened. Very clearly, a scene from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind started playing, as if it was on a projector screen in front of me. It’s one of my favorite movies. And if you haven’t seen it, this post is going to spoil it for you. My apologies.

In short, the movie is about a recently split couple, Joel and Clementine. Their relationship is slightly tumultuous and after they break, Clementine goes to a specialized clinic to have Joel erased from her memory. After a visit with friends, explaining his most recent interaction with Clementine, his friends tell him what she’s done. He goes to the clinic to see what it is and decides to do the same. The process before the actual procedure is to simulate the memories of Clementine and “map” where each memory lives in Joel’s brain. Once they map all of the memories, they can schedule the procedure to go in and zap each one while Joel is asleep. Except in the middle of his procedure, Joel realizes that he doesn’t want to erase her. He starts chasing her through the memories and hides her in places “off the map” so that they can’t erase her. The techs have to call the boss for help as they’ve never seen anyone do this before. The boss realizes what Joel is doing and ends up completing the procedure himself.

One of Joel’s last memories is the first time he met Clementine. It was at a beach party in Montauk in the middle of winter. The beachfront homes were all empty and Clementine persuades Joel to break into one and pretend it’s theirs. She’s not at all apprehensive about breaking and entering, but it makes Joel uncomfortable. She explores the house while he stays in the foyer downstairs. He says he’s leaving, and she says “so go”, and he does. Before the memory gets erased, Joel and Clementine speak about how they both wished that he stayed.

There’s a reason why I’m telling you all of this, give me a moment…

This scene is what played in the middle of my Reiki session. You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AD8g0LB89bU

I wish you stayed.

At first, I couldn’t figure out what it was trying to tell me. I came home and I was in a daze. I listened to that scene the entire ride home. Every time it finished, I restarted it. I felt like I was on the outside watching myself. And that is seriously how I’ve felt, in one way or another, ever since.

Once I got home, I decided to dig in as much as I could. What was this scene trying to tell me? I worked with some shadow prompts to try and help crack this code, because I was deeply intrigued while also completely confused. Eventually, I got there. That scene, essentially, was me talking to me. The whole scene.

I wish you stayed. I wish I’d stayed too. I wish I had stayed too, I do. What if you stayed this time?

I’ve written a lot here about self-abandonment. It was basically my favorite thing to do. And after years of doing that like it was my job, I stopped. What if I stayed this time? It has been so goddamn uncomfortable. Choosing to stay with myself when my first instinct is to run has been incredibly difficult. I am uncomfortable about 95% of the time. The quiet moments are the hardest. I have never paid so much attention to what I’m feeling before. When I’m busy, I’m fine, but I’m also exhausted. I can’t be busy all the time. And this is necessary. I get it now. And believe it or not, I finally see a tiny bit of progress. It’s minimal, but it’s there.

This year absolutely destroyed me. Everything felt unbearable as I was breaking down. I cried more tears than I ever thought I could. It has been heartbreaking to realize how much damage I had done to myself. I thought that I got through the hard part already, but I had no idea just how buried all of this shit was. There was a lot of grief this year. And I had to make my way through it. I did not consciously sign up for this, but sometimes things happen that we can’t explain and that’s just the way it is.

The saddest part of all of it is that I really believed that I didn’t matter. That I was just here to serve everyone else without any regard for myself. Constantly beating myself up and making myself smaller to fit in places that couldn’t hold me anyway. Finding out what I’m actually feeling versus throwing it under a blanket feeling, like “anxiety” or “stress”, so I could suppress it further has been extremely eye opening. The way I speak to myself has changed. I’m breaking deeply rooted patterns of self-loathing. It’s a slow process, but I’m staying. As I’ve said before, some days I can feel the changes, and some days I’m crying on the bathroom floor. I am doing my best not to completely fall apart. I stay with it, let it move, and do my best to go about my day.

2026 has to be the year I choose myself. I have backed myself into a corner where I have no choice. And I have some really tough moments where it feels like the thoughts are eating me alive. Telling me that I’m not worthy and that I don’t deserve to move forward. I know they’re not true, and it’s taking me less time to combat them, but in the moment, I want to run. Staying is crucial. Staying is key. Staying changes what comes next.

It’s been a long journey and it feels never ending. I look at myself a year ago and I know that things have changed, despite the moments where I feel like nothing has. I look for outside sources to validate my existence, I have done it all my life. My nervous system relied heavily on it, and learning to feel safe within and trust myself has been a whole lesson that I’m finally starting to understand. But it’s years of conditioning being broken so it’s taken me some time, more than I have patience for, to even take a tiny step. I’m doing it, but it’s weird and uncomfortable, and most days I hate it.

Anyway, if you’re going through it right now, don’t let it destroy you. Stay with it. Feel it, let it move through you, and breathe. I never saw myself in this place, but I’m here, still kicking and screaming, but here.

I wish you stayed. I wish I’d stayed too. I wish I had stayed too, I do. What if you stayed this time?

Anyway, wishing you peace in 2026. I won’t say happy, because we are all doing our best. But we deserve peace. And remember, that even when it doesn’t feel like it, it’s okay for you to change the narrative so that you can write the next chapter of your story.

Thanks for reading, I’m always here…

FIX YOU

when you try your best, but you don’t succeed, when you get what you want, but not what you need, when you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep, stuck in reverse…

The last three weeks have been incredibly heavy. My last post touched on the subject, but things actually got much worse before they finally started to get a little lighter. The good news is that as I’m writing I am standing on the very rocks that once pinned me down. My feet hurt, and I still don’t know where I’m heading, but I’m no longer buried, and that is enough for today.

At this point I’m not even sure what I thought would happen at the start of all this. I’ve written post after post about healing, sounding like a broken record, while barely noticing anything changing long enough to stick. Most days I have felt like a frying pan of scrambled eggs. But I really did believe I would have pulled myself together in a couple of months, healed, functioning, ready to roll. To say I was wrong is an understatement. Two and a half years later, everything finally landed in the last three weeks. Maybe that’s a good thing? Better late than never, I guess?

I have heard, countless times, that healing is not linear. And I’ll be honest with you, I really thought that meant that it’s different for everyone. What works for you doesn’t work for me and vice versa. But I see now that while that statement is true in that aspect, it also means it’s not linear within your own journey. Sometimes healing looks like a straight line on paper, but in real life it’s more like waking up in the middle of the night with your heart racing, telling your mind “Can you just let me dream please? Let me have this one moment.”

And then there are days like today, where I do all of the things I’m supposed to do, and end up in the dark, overwhelmed by a single letter in the mail or by memories I miss. Days like today where the sound of a familiar TV show feels like sandpaper on my nerves and every goddamn thing is bothering me. Healing is strange like that. There are moments where your heart flutters for no reason, moments where a song can pull you back to a bench watching the waves, and then moments where you’re on the bathroom floor wondering how you got here.

So what changed? I finally got sick of being in the same loop. I’ve been recognizing patterns for a while now, and something finally snapped. And I won’t lie to you, it has NOT been pretty at all. And I’m not going to sit here and make it pretty for you to read. Because I really feel like this is the important part. This is the part I’ve been trying to get to this entire time. And I’m only just realizing this now. While I was searching for a big aha moment of “BOOM, you’re healed!” it turns out that a bunch of tiny little moments were working behind the scenes. And the definition of healing for me has become much more clear.

I refused to acknowledge a lot of things that have happened in my life that brought me to this point. My level of self abandonment was off the charts. And the worst part was, when I did acknowledge it, even just a little bit, I was consumed with so much guilt and shame that I would shut the whole operation down. I have been told a few times, by a few different sources, that I had reached a point of no return, but I still brushed it off. When I didn’t, it seemed too small to even matter. There is so much actual suffering in the world that my issues felt like they didn’t even scratch the surface. Who fucking cares, right? But that question is the whole point: any chance to abandon myself, I took it. I saw the wounds, I watched them ooze and felt their constant, nagging ache – and still kept throwing bandages over everything because that was easier than facing the truth. I never considered going deeper, getting to the root. It’s just a wound, right? It’ll close eventually. It never occurred to me that it could get infected and force me to pay attention.

The last few weeks brought trigger after trigger, each one getting under my skin. And every time it happened, I didn’t hesitate, I dove in headfirst. I faced all of those things that made me feel selfish, guilty and ungrateful. I pushed past the uncomfortable feelings that would typically stop me in my tracks. I am so fucking sick of being like this, so I finally allowed myself to feel all of it. Something I learned was that two truths can exist at the same time. You can love someone and they can also be someone who fucked you up a little bit. The trouble with the things that shape you when you’re young is that they settle into your bones. They stop being someone else’s influence and become your own reflection. They become normal. Not become, they ARE your normal. When the baseline is skewed, the whole system follows. Your reactions, your fears, the way you brace for impact, all of it is shaped by something you never chose but learned to survive.

I’ve been stuck in survival mode for a really long time. And I say stupid shit sometimes like “I wish I stayed asleep because my life was so much easier when I ignored my own needs.” It did not occur to me that I was tossing out red flags like it was my job. I have said it here, probably in every single post in one way or another, that my needs have always been on the back burner. They’re not important because everyone else comes first. This week was the first time that statement ever sounded crazy to me. For the last (almost) three years I still believed that I did not matter. Despite being thrown into the dark night of the soul, despite my soul screaming day in and day out, I still didn’t fully understand any of it.

I downloaded an audio book a while ago and I started listening to it last Monday. It was on in my earbuds while I was at work, so I wasn’t concentrating on it, it was really just background noise. I noticed after I was a few chapters in, I was having some big feelings. My face was angry and my body was tight. I shut it off. Why am I so mad? Lunchtime rolled around and I took a little deep dive into where this anger was coming from. I used various prompts to get to the root. And man, that shit was buried deep. And for once, I was angry enough not to cover the wound with another piece of gauze. I sat with it and decided that maybe it was time to see what I could do to stitch it up and stop the infection.

Even talking about this now feels wrong in a way that I can’t shake. I was taught very early on that these thoughts should be kept quiet, pretend like everything was fine. And a part of me still worries that being honest, even with myself, will somehow get me in trouble. I feel icky and part of me is waiting for the sky to fall just because I’m talking about it. But it’s the truth, it’s MY truth. I have taken on way too many things in my life that should not have been my responsibility. I kept stepping into roles that were never meant for me, carrying weights that weren’t mine, because I wanted so badly to be loved. I thought I had to earn it by holding everyone together. But here’s a little something I learned recently – it’s incredibly hard to be a people pleaser because people are rarely ever pleased…

I can finally feel myself arriving at the point in healing where turning back isn’t an option anymore. This is everything that I’ve been aching for – finally cracked open enough to let some light in. Finally willing to step past the threshold I’ve always stopped at. Tomorrow might pull me apart or put me back together or something in between. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I have a little bit of traction and I have to keep moving forward. And somewhere in all of this, I’m trying to give myself a little bit of grace. To meet the guilt and shame when they come rolling in, and talk myself down with the same kindness I’ve given everyone else my entire life.

When I heard this song the other day it stirred something in me that put the wheels in motion for this post. I’ve spent years hoping someone would fix me – patch the holes, quiet the bad thoughts and make the constant ache go away. There was a longing for someone to rescue the parts that I couldn’t hold. But it finally hit me that the person I had been waiting for was me.

It was always me.

And now, for the first time in my life I’m not turning away from that. I never let myself believe that I was capable, but I’m learning that I’m actually the best person for the job.

lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you…

Song name: FIX YOU/ Artist: COLDPLAY/ Year: 2005

a squarciagola (parte II)

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

a squarciagola

a me, che cеrco un segno dentro al fondo di un caffè, che perdo tempo a stare al mondo senza un perché, che manderei tutto a puttane ma non ci riesco, ci metto tutto me stesso…

It’s been a while. I don’t really know what’s going on anymore, if I’m being honest. I feel like I’ve lost all abilities to regulate emotions. Looking for signs at the bottom of a coffee cup (as this song says). This summer absolutely kicked my ass emotionally, and I feel like I was somehow thrown back into inner childhood behavior when it comes to dealing with shit emotionally. It’s been incredibly frustrating and enlightening all at once. The amount of times I tell myself “you’re alright” per day is astronomical. Sometimes it works, sometimes not really, but every day is new goddamn adventure (shrugs).

Two very big events happened in July and August. And they were two very different losses, but both were big parts of my identity. And I think that I handled them both like a normal person. But the inner turmoil, the parts that you don’t see, wreaked absolute havoc on my already fragile nervous system. And I’m trying so hard to make the changes to feel safe in my own body, but because most days I’m exhausted and absolutely fried mentally, it’s not easy. So let’s finally talk about it.

At the beginning of July I was let go from teaching dance. And although the last two years have not been my best, and I had a gut feeling that it was going to happen, it still hit me pretty hard. It’s not that I took the job for granted. I had been teaching for 24 years. And at no point did I ever think to myself “I’ll always have this”, but it never occurred to me not to think that, if that makes sense. It was always a part of my life and it just kind of folded in to my existence. I have no hard feelings, these people were like family to me. And I guess that’s why I felt a little slighted by it. It’s just this very weird place of like yea, maybe I wasn’t fully in it the last two years, but also we were like family and maybe having a chat with me about it, instead of letting me go would have maybe made me feel better? I don’t know. And I mean that. I really don’t fucking know. There is still respect and love, but that part of my life is done. I won’t go teach somewhere else. And that chapter in the book of my life is closed. And it’s really weird. Who am I if I’m not telling you “I can’t, I have dance”? Anyway, I keep telling myself it didn’t happen TO me, it happened FOR me, and we will leave it at that.

My father unexpectedly passed away in August. The events leading up to his death were so strange. And the day that he died it kind of all came together and I actually said out loud to myself “okay, I understand now why all of this happened.” It all felt divinely orchestrated, I can’t explain it. When my sister called to tell me that he passed, there was this huge release. There was sadness, of course. But, because my father and I were not speaking, I had no idea that I worried so much about that moment until it happened. When I heard the words, with the tears came this insane release in my chest. It wasn’t until after it happened that I realized that I was always subconsciously worrying about that moment. As the daughter very much on the outside, would I get that call? It’s such a weird thing to worry about, and it was even weirder realizing that I was doing it for as long as I did. Because even though he and I were both on different journeys, he was my dad and I loved him. And as much as we had not been in touch over the last couple of years, this loss was heartbreaking.

I blamed a lot of shit on my dad. And when he passed, it’s crazy, but I let it all go. I had written a blog to him and posted it, maybe you read it, maybe you didn’t. But I immediately deleted it after finding out. I don’t know why that happened. I think, ultimately, that I felt bad for him. And I’m not giving him an out, our relationship was tumultuous. But what would be the point of me holding on to all of the shit that we had been through? He is no longer here. Why not try to remember some of the good stuff and maybe start releasing some of the bad that really isn’t even relevant anymore? It’s not like I will ever have the chance to talk it out with him again. It’s just taking up space in my body. Space that I could be putting to better use. It was so heavy for so long, maybe it’s time to put it down…

To those of you who may be reading, who might be going through the same type of thing. Angry and blaming a father you’re not speaking to, I’m not going to tell you to let it go now while he’s still here. There are some relationships that just don’t work out. Even father/daughter ones. And if you want to be mad and blame, that is absolutely your right. The real issue is that as daughters, we are constantly looking for validation from our fathers. And it’s something that is just woven into our DNA. It’s not our fault that it’s there. But what I will tell you is what I’ve been learning on this whole journey that I’ve been on… seeking parental validation, even subconsciously, will fuck you up. There is guilt and shame in places you didn’t even know existed. And I’m still working on that every single day. We look to our parents to be the ones that know everything. But just because they brought you into this world does not mean that they knew what they were doing. Most of them are parenting the way that they were parented. And it’s really fucking difficult sometimes to give your parents the benefit of the doubt, because your emotions are a mess because their emotions are a mess. But you get to a certain point, for your own personal peace, that you have to give it to them. Because every single one of us has something inside of us just wanting to be loved and accepted, whether we know it’s there or not. And eventually you have to take that responsibility off of them, cry your fucking eyes out, tell yourself that everything will be okay, and start relying on yourself to give you the love and acceptance that you crave.

I am still scrambled eggs most days. I’ve been trying to write for the last two months and nothing would come out. And I don’t know why sitting in a hotel room in Vegas opened up the writing floodgates, but it did. I have been working really hard on trying to figure out who I am and what will make me happy. Trying to figure out what my definition of happiness is. I have spent most, if not all, of my life basing my happiness on the people I love. If they’re happy, I’m happy. If I just do everything that they need and they’re happy, then everything will be okay. And that’s a little fucked up. It’s a lot fucked up, but it didn’t come from a dark place. It put me in a dark place when I realized that I built a whole life on that and then my inner world came crumbling down. I don’t know why I’m this very emotional being. I don’t know why I feel shit that other people don’t feel. I don’t know why some people can handle things like normal people and I feel all the things. I’m not going to beat myself up for being that way. You’re you and I’m me and I don’t have to be like you. But I do need to figure out a way to continue to be me that isn’t so chaotic. For me, not for you.

And so being gentle with myself as I try to work my way out of this mental mess I’ve created has been one of my biggest hurdles. I have compared myself to others forever. I’m not where I should be but at the same time I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I constantly get in my own way. And I’m sure that if I really gave myself a minute, instead of being wound up 24/7, I would make some serious progress. I am the only one standing in my way. And it’s infuriating, but it was necessary for me to discover all of this about myself. Maybe I’m not like everyone else and that has to be okay. Maybe it’s okay for me to do things that are out of the box and don’t make sense to you. Those things don’t have to make sense to you in order for them to be okay.

Here is the biggest lesson that I’ve learned so far. It’s weird, but it’s real and I want to share it. You ever catch yourself judging someone for something that you would never do and then not long after that, you are faced with something similar? Yea, that’s how life works. When you spend your life critiquing what others do, I’m not talking about jokingly, I’m talking about shit you see people doing and making it a point to be like “why the fuck would they do that?!” and go on a bender about why even though it’s not your concern or your business. When you spend a lot of time harping on things that shouldn’t concern you, it is crazy how a similar situation eventually makes it’s way into your life. And you find yourself making decisions based on what you need. And suddenly you understand. Literally anything I’ve ever harshly judged someone about, came back to kick me right in my ass, forcing me to learn a lesson. And it keeps happening until you understand, so try to notice it and learn from it quickly.

This was very long winded, but very needed. I’m making some changes around the blog and I hope to be here more. I’m trying to show up for myself, hold myself accountable, even though things inside my body still don’t feel quite right. I need to keep following this path wherever it leads me. I find moments of clarity amidst the chaos. I know that life is a balance of good and bad. I’m not looking for always good. What I’m looking for is the ability within myself to not make every bad moment a catastrophe. And so healing the nervous system and feeling safe inside my body is my first step. Knowing that I don’t have to grip so tightly to peaceful moments because I absolutely will have more. I have spent my life trying to fit in places where I sometimes don’t, placing labels on myself that were incorrect, and trying to make everyone happy while not prioritizing my own happiness. I don’t have to be “the girl with daddy issues” or “the dancer” or anything else for that matter. I can just figure out who I want to be without all that. If I’m the writer of this story, and I’m not totally happy with it, then maybe it’s time to take those necessary steps.

Thanks for being here, and thanks, as always for reading. I’m always here if you need me…

ma giro attorno a ‘sta rotonda da mezz’ora, e sto in silenzio anche se penso a squarciagola, ma 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

GRAVITY

something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long… no matter what I say or do, I still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone…

I stumbled upon a cover of this song a few days ago. I don’t usually like covers of Sara Bareilles songs. And I think it’s because she sings her songs so beautifully that no cover has ever really done it for me. But this cover? Here’s the link: Raymond Salgado – Gravity Cover I don’t know what happened. It must have scratched all of the right parts of my brain or something, but I was locked in. As soon as it was done, I restarted it. This went on for a while, I will not disclose for how long (LOL). Anyway, hearing someone else sing Gravity made me think about it in a different way than I normally do. I was always very linear when it came to my interpretation of it – this song was always a tragic love song in my mind. Of course there was one exception, and that was the So You Think You Can Dance Mia Michaels dance, where she made it about addiction which was fucking revolutionary. Watch it! Mia Michaels Choreography “Addiction” -Kayla and Kupono SYTYCD Anyway, it was so strange that this cover instinctively made me apply it to this soul journey that I’ve been on. And it felt like a desperate plea for release while also not wanting to let go or give up.

I haven’t felt right for the last month. The last week to ten days have been exceptionally heavy. I don’t want to sound dramatic, but I’m going to use the word unbearable. And I don’t know how to explain this to you so that you’ll fully understand. It just feels like a constant longing in my chest. A dull and quiet, constant ache. Like I’m homesick. It gnaws at me constantly. I haven’t slept more than five hours per night in the last two years, but this week I had not slept more than three. So, when I say it’s constant, I mean it. There is no rest. There is no peace. I am beyond exhausted and so incredibly sad. I am crying like I miss home, but I am home…

set me free, leave me be, I don’t want to fall another moment into your gravity…

I can’t tell you how many times this week I’ve begged, between sobs, to be released from this. These giant, heartbroken sobs pour out of me, seemingly from out of nowhere, and I beg God, Universe, Source, whatever you prefer to say, to give me respite from this. Even if it’s just long enough for me to get some restful sleep. One moment I am fine, and the next the aching and pulling in my chest gets too strong for me to handle, and I need to find somewhere to cry. There’s no stopping it. Sometimes it’s over in a few minutes, and sometimes I don’t have time for it to complete because I am trying to be a functional adult and have shit to do. So I pull myself together and do my best.

And I understand that this sounds strange if you’re seeing it from the outside. I’ve been told, too many times, that I need to see a shrink and get my shit together. And reactions like that remind me that not everyone in my life is a safe space. So, I put my mask back on and fake it until I make it. I am doing my fucking best. It’s not always so dark. The aching feeling described above is never ending, but when I am doing something that I enjoy, there is no time to fan that flame.

When I am alone, I’m here but I’m not. I’m lost in a spiral of thoughts. I pull out all of the tricks I know to get me out of it. Sometimes it works, sometimes I let myself get lost in it. Other times it’s just so incredibly heavy. The gravity of all of it pulled me down pretty far this week. And I allowed it. I did not have the energy to fight it. Clearly, it was happening for a reason. However, the last three days felt like absolute warfare. I realized why the panic was happening, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not stop it. I felt like I was falling down a rabbit hole. I have a really tight grasp on a lot of things right now. I know that I need to make changes, unfortunately I am at a point on this journey where the changes I need to make are pretty large, and I don’t know how to navigate it just yet. It’s 100% the case that I am standing in my own way, and it is 100% out of total terror.

There are a few things that happened since I started writing this post earlier in the week. And it’s important that I talk about those things so I can wrap this up in a pretty bow:

  • The grandma thing that has been heavily weighing my life down finally has a bit of resolution and I am finally getting some relief
  • There was a very big full moon that happened on Thursday – it was in Capricorn and it meant business. I chalked a lot of the heaviness in the days leading up to it directly to its arrival – no sleep, heavy emotions, etc.
  • There were a lot of cosmic shifts this week, calling for action to evaluate your life and make necessary changes. These shifts called for actual release of the things in your life that were no longer serving your highest good
  • The day after the full moon, I was let go from something that was, what I thought, a huge part of my identity. And I absolutely took it as “It’s not happening TO me, it’s happening FOR me” and that, my friends, is growth in my book

I will be writing more about that last bullet point above, but I’m not quite ready yet. It’s still incredibly fresh and I’m still processing it. However, as emotionally unstable as I felt this week, by the end of the week I had finally returned to my five hours of sleep and things felt lighter. Realizing that things happen the way they’re supposed to and not necessarily how I want them to was also something that gave me a little clarity. And I’m finally starting to shift perspective when it comes to certain things in my life. I still can’t fully let go, but my knuckles are no longer white while gripping them. It is taking a lot of self talk and care to make it through the dark moments that creep in, but everything will be alright. I am trying to shift 40+ years of conditioning and it’s going to take a minute.

Anyway, this was extremely long winded, but of course necessary. I appreciate it very much if you made it to this point. I can’t promise that every day the gravity of all of this won’t drag me down, but I promise I’m doing all I can to stay grounded. Thanks for reading, I’m always here if you need me…

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you’re everything I think I need here on the ground, but you’re neither friend nor foe though I can’t seem to let you go, the one thing that I still know is that you’re keeping me down…

Song name: GRAVITY/ Artist: Sara Bareilles/ Year: 2007

HALLELUJAH…

faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya, she tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the hallelujah…

The last few days I’ve been processing a lot of stuff, and so I’m just here today to write it out. I don’t even really know how to explain all of this, but I’m going to do my best. The last post wasn’t a great one, and I will admit that things have been lighter since then. Nothing crazy, but lighter, and I’m grateful for that.

This song has been haunting me since two nights ago. I was at a dance thing and when I heard it, I was locked in. I got chills up my spine and immediately asked the teacher who used it who was singing it. When he said Shawn Mendes I was surprised as hell. I’m in my 40’s, I don’t listen to him. I have a few songs on my phone from years ago when the kids in my dance classes loved him and I promised I would play them during warm up. So to hear this incredibly haunting version of this song from someone who I literally judged as having zero depth, I was humbled to say the least.

That night, I was driving home, it was late, and I played this song on repeat. The moon was shining so brightly and it just felt like a whole experience that I didn’t expect. As I drove around looking for parking, which is a nightmare after 8 PM in my neighborhood, let alone when there’s construction on the surrounding blocks and it’s 11:30 PM, I just tried to really take in the quiet time alone.

Two days ago, I had a good day. I got some good news about something that has weighed heavily on me for the last year and a half. And because I got the information second-hand, I was still a little apprehensive about fully releasing it because I didn’t want to get disappointed when I actually saw the paperwork. It has caused me a lot of anxiety, and I really hoped that it was true and that I can finally move on with this and maybe get one extra hour of sleep with it off of my plate. I received the paperwork and still don’t fully understand it, but I never really did. It’s for my grandmother, and that’s really why it causes me as much anxiety as it does However, the paperwork didn’t look bad at all and so I’m taking that as a small win for now.

This little paperwork story ties in to something much bigger, so please bear with me. For the last two years my biggest issue has been releasing the need to control the outcome of things that I can’t control. My nervous system is completely shot. Years of people pleasing and taking on things that shouldn’t have been my responsibility have left me in a very vulnerable state. My anxiety has gotten progressively worse. With each tiny thing, it barrels through me like a freight train that I can’t stop. It has made me sick to my stomach with worry, I can’t eat, I haven’t slept soundly in years, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I would classify myself as “beyond empathetic”. I have managed to absorb the feelings and energy of everyone around me to the point where I no longer exist. And that’s why I’m here on this journey, and I see that very clearly now. I managed to tie my own identity to the needs and wants of others, so much so that I completely abandoned myself. But something is finally shifting…

I knew the full moon on June 11th was going to be important for me. I read and listen to a lot of spiritual stuff everyday, almost to the point of over consumption, but it would soothe my anxiety, even if just for a few minutes. Anyway, last week really messed me up. I really felt like life was taking me in a direction that I didn’t want to go in. And if I didn’t at least try to steer the ship, I was afraid I would never come out of this. My thoughts were at an all time low. In 6 days I maybe slept 24 hours. I was losing my fucking mind. So when I saw that this full moon was coming and it was a perfect time to reset, I finally told my anxious thoughts to shut the fuck up because I really needed this.

My time in the car, with this song playing, tears in my eyes, with the beautiful moon shining above me, something finally clicked. When I finally got home, I immediately wrote down everything I wanted to release, I went outside at midnight and burned it all. And I promised myself that I would do better. I know Rome wasn’t built in a day, but I can openly admit that I wasn’t doing a damn thing to help myself. I’m not going to beat myself up over it, I’m fucking exhausted, but I will at least start giving a shit about myself. It’s the least I could do.

Up until this point, nothing had changed. I didn’t feel like I was growing at all. That for the last two years, everything had been exactly the same. I was still triggered, still spiraling, still not caring about myself, still doing everything to cater to everyone else’s happiness, so yea, not a thing changed. And then an opportunity presented itself… Someone told me that she told someone else about how badly I was doing. She said it so nonchalant like it wouldn’t bother me. Let me break this down for you. My typical reaction to this would have been rage. Not only did you disrespect me by telling my story to someone who absolutely 1000% had no right to know, but you probably told your version of it which is incorrect. BUT, I realized very quickly that I never set a boundary on it. And so that was partially my fault. It wasn’t okay what she did. And instead of screaming and crying about it, I said to her nicely “I understand you think you were helping me, but I didn’t ask you for help. I would appreciate it if you could please never do that again.” And now the boundary was set. She called me back later and brought it up again. And again, I stifled the urge to scream, she insisted she was trying to help. And I told her “please understand that the only reason why I am not screaming at you right now is because I know it came from a place of love and concern. But I am asking you one more time to please never do that again.” And she gave me some insincere “SORRRYYY” and we hung up.

I got off the phone and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was raging mad, seeing red. I wanted to scream but didn’t want to scare my dog. And then I walked to the kitchen to get myself something to drink, and was hit with a moment of clarity. Amidst the rage, I thought about who I was dealing with. Someone I love who is also a child of trauma. And I thought for a few minutes about that. I am raging mad at someone who will never see my point of view because she physically can’t. She does not know any better. And I took a deep breath and I let it go. I forgave her for what she did, without a genuine apology, because I know better and she doesn’t. I set the boundary going forward, and that’s all I could do.

Last night I slept for six solid hours. That’s the longest consecutive amount of hours in one night in I don’t know how long. It was needed and I plan on trying it again tonight. I was triggered A LOT today. But in the midst of all the triggers, I also had a tiny bit of ammo to combat it. The last few days, with all the full moon talk, I kept telling myself that everything is going to work out the way it is supposed to. That I am strong and I can handle anything. And although it seems that nothing has changed, I have changed a lot. And I kept reminding myself of that. Most importantly, if I am going to surrender, I need to trust. That little grandma paperwork win the other day, the one that I couldn’t fully trust, that still had a death grip on me until the paperwork was physically in my hands. When it was finally dropped off at my house, I felt a bit of relief. I told myself to let it go, I will take care of the last bits of it tomorrow, have grandma sign it on Saturday and put it in the mail on Monday. I went to get coffee with my coworkers, and not two minutes after the order was placed, I got a strange text message. It had my grandmother’s home address and a case number. My heart dropped into my butt and I could feel the blood drain out of my face. I was with coworkers so I had to be cool but I internally spiraled so fast. I got back to the office and I was in a full panic attack.

After 10 minutes, I finally convinced myself that it couldn’t have been a scam text, not with such specific information, and told myself to bite the bullet and just call the number. I called. It wasn’t about my grandmother. It was about someone else in our family. I relayed the message to them and stepped out onto the balcony to breathe. I looked up to the sky and apologized for not trusting that only good will come out of this situation. I have heard so many times on this journey that when you’re on the verge of a breakthrough, when your ego knows that you’re finally taking control, you are hit with test after test after test to try to break you down. And normally this would have broken me. I don’t even know if I would have called the number. I would have just panicked and not slept for God knows how many nights over it. But I promised myself I would do better. I owe it to myself to do better. To fight for my life because it’s worth it.

I know this was an extremely long winded post, but the culmination of everything in the last few days actually has me seeing clearly for the first time in two years. My focus has shifted in a way that I never expected. I am not going to get overly excited about it. I have goals that I want to accomplish in the next few months and I will put my focus there. I have the tiniest spark of hope again and I’m not going to let it go. The last few days have shown me that my thoughts do not determine my next steps. And I know that I’ve probably said some version of those words hundreds of times in these posts, but I actually see it now. Everything that I want for my life going forward is within me and I will heal from all of this. I will accomplish what I want to accomplish because I see now that I am important. That I can set boundaries and my whole world doesn’t fall apart. And that no one is coming to save me, only I can do that.

As always, thank you for reading. I hope for more little victories going forward, but will not break apart if not everything is considered a win. This is life and there needs to be balance. And I see that it’s possible now, and I’m going to run with it. And if you haven’t heard this version of Hallelujah yet, my advice is to find a quiet place and listen to it…

well, maybe there’s a God above, that’s for me all I’ve ever learnt from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya, but it’s not a crime that you’re here tonight, it’s not some pilgrim who claims to have seen the light, it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah… hallelujah, hallelujah…

Song name: HALLELUJAH/ Artist: Shawn Mendes/ Year: 2024

LIGHT ON…

would you believe me now if I told you I got caught up in a wave? almost gave it away, would you hear me out if I told you I was terrified for days? thought I was gonna break… oh, I couldn’t stop it, tried to slow it all down, crying in the bathroom, had to figure it out, with everyone around me saying “You must be so happy now”…

I’m not going to lie to you. The last few days have been some of my worst. May 29th marked 2 years since this journey began. I tried not to give it any thought. I didn’t want to think about it. But I think subconsciously it was looming and out of nowhere I just broke in half. I keep trying and trying to keep my head above the water, but treading gets exhausting and sometimes my legs give out and I dip below and get caught up in the current. And it’s disheartening and discouraging, and I fucking hate it.

I’ve been walking around lately feeling extremely disconnected. I guess I’m in a bit of an unintentional hermit mode. I don’t mean to be like this, it just sort of happened. I’m trying to make sense of the last two years. And while I know things have changed, it really feels like the same loop every goddamn day. I’m still not sleeping. I wake up with a racing heart every single day. Terrified of what the day has in store for me. Why I live my life like this, I’ll never know. I have a million things that I can do to get myself out of this mindset, and I don’t fucking do any of them. I have zero drive to better myself. I’m fucking exhausted and I just want my mind to shut the fuck up for once.

I don’t know who this person is right now. I used to be empathetic, ready to people please and smile and nod. My empathy has turned to apathy. I am completely disinterested and drained. I see the life I want for myself, I know there are 8 million steps to get to it and I’m too tired to move. I have lost patience with life and with myself. I’m angry at the decisions I’ve made that have brought me to this point. I am my biggest hater and that’s a huge part of the problem.

In order to better your life, you actually have to like yourself. And I really don’t like myself at all. I’m disappointed at the sacrifices I made that left me brokenhearted and unfulfilled. I thought there would always be more time for me to do what I needed to do. And it just feels like there is this imaginary clock counting down and telling me that I’m running out of time. And each day passes so slow with the same shit over and over again and I just feel more and more defeated.

I know this sounds terrible. I don’t want you to misunderstand or think that I’m not grateful for my life. I understand that people would probably kill to have my life. But that doesn’t help. That adds yet another layer of guilt and shame to the ones that have been built over this lifetime. I can’t shake feeling like an awful person. I can’t see how I could possibly deserve good things in life. But at the same time, that makes no fucking sense to me. Why shouldn’t I believe that life can just keep getting better? Because for years and years I’ve heard the most destructive shit that I didn’t know was destructive. I thought it was what everyone thought. But I’m finding out that life doesn’t have to be like that at all, that you can dream and believe that it can only get better, and I think the anger and sadness stems from finding this information out in my 40’s. It is just such a heartbreaking feeling and I have definitely let it drag me down the last couple of days.

I have some things in the works that I hope will drag me out of this, but the hope is slim at this very moment. And I have faith that tomorrow will be better. That I’ll actually sleep tonight and wake up feeling a little bit better than I did today. I’m sad that I wrote a post last week and said that I haven’t sobbed every day in months, and literally that’s all I’ve done for the last couple of days. It’s disappointing.

I just haven’t been here and I need to get my head back above the water. I’m just so tired. I have a lot of things to fight for and I know that. I want that life that I see in my dreams and I just need to get out of my head and hit the ground and take the step that will lead me to the next step and so on. So I’m giving myself the rest of today to be a sad sack piece of shit. But tomorrow? That’s going to be day one on making it happen for myself. Nothing changes if nothing changes. And I need to stop being complacent. My comfort zone is no longer comfortable and it’s time to move this shit along. I’m still here and I need to do better.

Thanks for reading. I know you’re probably sick of reading the same shit, I am too. I look forward to tomorrow and taking even just a tiny step in a new direction.

oh, if you keep reachin’ out then I’ll keep comin’ back, and if you’re gone for good then I’m okay with that, and if you leave the light on, then I’ll leave the light on… and I am findin’ out there’s just no other way, that I’m still dancin’ at the end of the day, and if you leave the light on, then I’ll leave the light on, oh, leave the light on, oh, would you leave the light on?

Song name: LIGHT ON/ Artist: Maggie Rogers/ Year: 2019

Quei ricordi là…

ci sono momenti che non puoi scordare, come le chitarre prima di un concerto, tutte quelle notti perse a litigare e poi tutte le mattine nello stesso letto, e se c’è qualcosa da dimenticare, nonostante tutto, me lo tengo stretto, sì, ne vale la pena, Che pena, però… Io ti prometto che sarà bellissimo…

Hello, it’s been a while. There are countless, unfinished posts in the drafts folder of this site. It’s been a minute since I’ve sat down to write. Everything I wrote felt wrong. My mind was my worst enemy. I kept getting stuck in the same loop of bullshit and everything just felt wrong. I’m writing today because it felt like I should.

At the beginning of all of this, I was a mess. I’ve explained it here before, but I’ll say it again. Almost 2 years ago, it was like a “total destruction” button was pushed without my knowledge and I was left completely lost in a pile of rubble. Handling it with grace and composure was not an option. I did my best in front of people, but when I was alone, it was dark. I cried every day, multiple times a day, most of the time without reason. Not just little tears, big sobs that came from my guts. Looking back on it now, I am happy that I’m still here to talk about it. There were times where there was no light and I don’t know how I made it through, but I’m glad I did.

I am still working through a lot of things. I’m not quite put back together yet, stuck in this very in-between place of old me and new me, but I’m taking little steps when I can to try and figure out what parts of me need fixing. I’m still very confused and tired, but I don’t sob every day anymore, and so little victories and all that happy horseshit (shrugs).

I started writing this from my hotel room in Sicily. This visit was different. I remember writing my post about Sicily last year, I didn’t reread it, because I remember feeling heartbroken while writing it. But I’m writing now to say that it was wonderful in every way. The first night was difficult and I was afraid I was going to repeat the patterns of fear and anxiety from last year. I realized quickly that I’ve grown since then and I’m proud of myself.

I frantically checked the weather before I left home. Every day had rain and wind and storms. And I was so disappointed. Because there’s no way to plan a trip in advance and predict the weather. I was so afraid I would be stuck in an anxiety spiral in my room the whole time. I am happy to report that it was not the case! It had rained, but there was also so much sunshine. And as soon as I would hear the rain stop, I went outside.

The trip had been brewing, probably since I left last year. And it was really difficult for me to ask for another bit of time away by myself. Last year I went to Sicily to try to find out information that I could not seem to find. When I spoke with a genealogist and they told me that it would cost 1000 euro to inquire, I thought to myself, I could just go and see what I could do myself. Of course it felt like an epic fail. But a lot of things have transpired in the last year and a bunch of pieces that I was searching for managed to make their way to me.

It was so strange. My great-grandmother who has been the guiding force on my journey, was such a tough nut for me to crack last year. And I think it’s because I was trying too hard. Every where I looked, her birthday was the missing piece. I kept hitting road blocks. Finally, I asked a cousin if she had any information from her mother, I really hate to bother people, but she found a copy of the death certificate which had the date of birth on it. Now here’s where shit gets weird…

Little something worth mentioning. For the last year and half I have had the Linguaglossa town page bookmarked on my Google homepage. I check it at least once a month, I don’t know why but I do. Anyway, I know this damn site inside and out at this point. Not long after I got her date of birth, it was monthly website check in time. I was clicking around when a search box popped up on my screen asking me if I was looking for someone. That was strange, it never happened before… So I put in her name and date of birth, stated that I would love baptismal records or something to prove her existence in that town. And I sent it and laughed. I never expected to hear from them again OR figured I would receive mail asking me to pay a lot of money for it. I’ve been here before, thank you. By the time I got to work the next morning, there was an email back with a copy of her birth certificate, the address of the home she was born in and some information about her father and sister. The woman said that if I wanted more information that she could dig further and it was 25 euro per hour (that’s dirt cheap, by the way!) with an estimate of the amount of hours it would take. Anyway, I thanked her and told her when I was ready I would give her the go ahead to keep digging. After more than a year of trying to find out this information, it magically appeared.

I can’t explain the pull I felt to go back. After going back and forth with it quite a bit, it felt like I had no choice. It’s very hard for me to explain this to people. Especially since I don’t really understand it myself. I’ve never had anything like this happen in my life. And it’s weird for me, I’m sure it must be even weirder to witness. I don’t expect people to understand. And it can’t matter to me if you do or you don’t. It’s an experience that is exclusive to me and it doesn’t need to make sense to you. I’m not trying to be a bitch, it’s just that I’ve spent so much of my life caring about what others will think of me, and with this very personal and strange stage of life, I just can’t do that anymore.

I’m still processing all of it. I still don’t feel that I have the spiritual wherewithal to navigate any of it. I don’t understand how I can feel homesick for a place that I am just getting to know. So I’m still taking it all in. I’ve been home for 5 days and still feel very out of sorts and out of place. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s such a 180 from my trip and return last year. Last year I spent a lot of time sitting with the regret of it all. Sad that I missed so much. And so far I have spent a lot of time thinking about how much I miss it.

So here’s what I can tell you. Going to her house kind of changed me. I know that sounds really over dramatic, but it was profound in its own way. Once I got there, and I stood outside, my ever racing heart started beating at a normal pace and a wave of peace rushed over me. I have to tell you that I have been craving that feeling for 2 years and it was incredible. I never thought I would ever feel peace again, so to get it in that moment was a huge reminder that going there was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to linger outside for too long, people live there and I didn’t want to make it weird, so I went back to the church, her church, that I visited last year. It was a 2 minute walk away. I sat in the same spot, stuck in place, for 30 minutes, involuntarily sobbing my eyes out. I couldn’t move, I tried. I told her “I’m here and I’m listening”. The messages I received are between me and her for now. But it was seriously one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Again, I don’t know what to do with any of it yet, but I’m grateful for it.

I realize now that last year was not a waste. I wasn’t ready and that’s clear. I needed last year so that this year would be what it was. Because I was frantically checking the weather the week before, I worried myself sick that I would not be able to accomplish everything I wanted to in the time that I had. The landing into Catania was rough. A 25 minute descent felt like it took 6 days. It was pouring buckets as I was walking from the terminal to the car rental office. I showed up at the desk completely saturated. I had no choice but to drive in it. I don’t know why I was acting like I didn’t know how to drive in the rain. I was fine. I arrived at my hotel, took a hot shower, saw the rain had stopped and went for a walk. I planned my visit to Linguaglossa around the weather. I made sure I would be there before the rain started and it worked. As I was driving back to my hotel, about an hour and a half away, 3 miles before my exit, the heavens opened up. Like BIG TIME rain, wind, flooding, all the things. Instead of crying about it, I talked myself through it, followed patterns of traffic and shut the fuck up about it. I parked my car at the hotel and the rain stopped. I got myself situated, and went back outside. I know these are weather related, but there were just so many things that I convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to do and I did them because I’m not an idiot. And it was in these moments that I realized that everything that I fear and tell myself I can’t do, it’s all a lie.

I had one moment of clarity yesterday. I have such abandonment issues that I hang on so tightly to things out of fear of losing them. With that comes a few more issues. One of them being when I get the tiniest taste of something, I just want more. And I make myself sick thinking about how I don’t have it anymore and get so sad missing whatever it is. But I swear, yesterday I thought about how, not too long ago, I was researching all the places in Sicily that I’ve been, wishing to be there, and I did it. I went to those places and I did the things. And so yea, maybe it wasn’t instant, but I did it. And it made the reeling thoughts shut up. Because I did that. I wanted to go and see these things and I saw them. And yes, of course I would like to see them again, but I confidently told myself that I absolutely will. Because I will. I humbled the shit out of myself and for once I shut the fuck up and just said Thank You.

The hardest part of this entire journey is learning to go with the flow. I have never gone with the flow. I go with plans and over thinking, and more plans, and anxiety, and panic attacks and then more overthinking. And I learned that it is possible for me to flow. I saw myself do it. And so yea, it’s maybe taking me a little longer than it would other people, but this journey is about me and that’s where I’ll put my focus. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be in this moment, but I won’t be in this place forever. It won’t always be like this. I’m going to continue to process everything at my own pace. 2 years ago I never thought I would still be in this very weird place, but little by little I’m making my way out of the darkness, maybe even for real this time.

This was a long post and I appreciate it if you made it this far. I’m going to be making some changes to this blog and restructuring things a little bit. Glad we could catch up, I promise more will be coming soon…

io ti prometto che sarà bellissimo, tornare a quei ricordi là, sì, a quei ricordi là, che brivido di quelli che non puoi spiegare, come vele in mare aperto, quando tira forte il vento, tu lascia che sia bellissimo, bellissimo…

Song name: Quei ricordi là/ Artist: Olly/ Year: 2024

SATELLITE CALL

this one’s for the lonely child, brokenhearted, running wild, this was written for the one to blame, one who believe they are the cause of chaos and everything, you may find yourself in the dead of night, lost somewhere up in the great big beautiful sky, you were all just perfect little satellites, spinning round and round this broken earthly life, this is so you’ll know the sound of someone who loves you from the ground, tonight you’re not alone at all, this is me sending out my satellite call…

I slept like shit last night. I woke up a few times, fell back asleep, finally on the last time I got out of bed to come and sit on the couch. I was fine with it. I knew I would nap again around the 6:00 hour. It’s the same bullshit every day. The only difference between weekdays and weekends is that my nap starts a little later and I can sleep more than 3o minutes on the couch. I am beyond exhausted. When I get more than 4 hours sleep, it’s exciting. And that’s also bullshit because why am I praising the bare fucking minimum? I should be able to fucking sleep.

My day started normally. I was fine. I did a lot yesterday and knew that I would be glued to the couch for the day. But I’m hormonal and bitchy and I don’t know why I was caught off guard when my mood changed this afternoon. I had to run to the store to get something. A song shuffled while I was in the car for, I don’t know, 10 minutes? And I pulled over a block away from home so that I could sob my eyes out. Sobbing. I’m fine, I promise. I am just never at rest. Never at peace. Always feeling like a failure. Always feeling like I’m doing something wrong. Always feeling like a bad person. And sometimes a song shuffles and I’m in tears. Because there are too many things swirling in my brain pointing me in that direction and I just have to give in.

And crying once a week doesn’t phase me anymore. I used to cry like this DAILY, so we are moving fucking mountains over here. But it’s like this purge of all the shit that I can’t control making it’s way out of my body and I have to let it. Usually I feel better after and I move on with my day. Today was not one of those days. Because of the hormones, I am sad girl, and I know that tomorrow will be better.

Why am I writing it here, again? Because I fucking need to, that’s why. I don’t know. I felt the need to write about all of this. Whatever the reason, it’s here. And I know it’s just one moment in my life and it will pass. But I get scared, because what if it won’t? I can’t think like that, I know, but this is where sad girl is today in this moment. I do have another post currently on the back burner that will be better. It’s something I’ve been working on for a few weeks. And it’s a testament to the internal progress that I’ve been making. But today, I felt the need to post this shit again because I feel like I took more steps back. We are all broken in the most beautiful and unique ways. And some of us are able to deal with it in healthy ways. And some of us just cry a lot. Maybe you’re not okay today and needed to read this? If that’s the case, I hope you know you’re not alone.

So this is my satellite call to you, to me, to all of us: You are not a bad person. Your mind is playing tricks on you. You are a human being. You matter. Even when you feel worthless, you’re not. Even when you feel like you don’t deserve love, you do. Some of the best days of your life haven’t happened yet, so don’t let the bad moments make you feel like you don’t deserve them, because you do. And if there are people in your life telling you those things and making you feel like that, please know that they are talking about themselves, not you. Life is a wild ride. Things happen without explanation and we are just supposed to figure them out without any guidebook or road map. And sometimes we make wrong turns but I have to believe that those were meant to take you to the right places eventually. Bad moments don’t equal a bad life.

And that’s all I wanted to say to you today. Because I needed to hear it too. And we all really need to start believing it…

this is so you’ll know the sound, someone who loves you from the ground, tonight you’re not alone at all, this is me sending out my satellite call…

Song name: SATELLITE CALL/ Artist: Sara Bareilles/ Year: 2013