Tag: spiritual journey

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…

NO HARD FEELINGS (Part II)

when my body won’t hold me anymore and it finally lets me free, will I be ready? when my feet won’t walk another mile and my lips give their last kiss goodbye, will my hands be steady? when I lay down my fears, my hopes, and my doubts, the rings on my fingers, and the keys to my house, with no hard feelings…

NO HARD FEELINGS

Four years ago, I wrote this post. Reading it again made me sad, but I felt pulled back to it because of something that happened yesterday. Lately, every time I think I’ve seen the worst of things emotionally, life is like “HA! Girl, yea right!” Another rabbit out of the hat. Another gut punch that knocks the wind out of me. So let’s talk about it.

Since my last post, when I felt this tiny flicker of hope because I was beginning to understand what healing actually looks like for me, things have gotten so much fucking worse. Worse in a way that almost feels absurd. Life looked at my progress and said “Ok, now let’s go deeper.” I get it. I do. I needed this part. I needed to uncover even more of what I’ve been carrying, so that I could clearly see the shit I won’t be carrying with me into 2026.

The truth is that even though this post is 4 years old, I remember that girl. She hadn’t completely fallen apart yet. She was a nervous wreck, yes. Too hard on herself while carrying the whole fucking world on her back, but still intact. She had no idea what was coming. And while I still see pieces of her in me, I am not that girl anymore. Honestly, I’m not even the person who started 2025 back in January. I don’t remember who that person was. The last month has completely destroyed me and all I can do now is sift through the rubble and try to rebuild from here.

At this point we are all familiar with the fact that I don’t sleep. And I didn’t think it was possible, but in the last month it somehow got worse. I’ve been running on fumes. My nervous system was in shambles. My body never gets a break. Even in the few hours that I do sleep, there is no rest. I wake up already behind, already emotionally depleted. Yesterday, I woke up feeling completely empty. I was in tears, feeling like everything was crashing down around me.

I did the laundry and took a shower, hoping to create some sense of normalcy. Eventually, I laid down on the couch and tried to relax when the phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but something in my body said, “pick up the phone.” I’m so glad I did. It was someone from the VA calling to actually help me resolve all of the nonsense that I’ve been trying to make sense of for the last 2 years. He could hear my anxiety over the phone and told me to breathe. He told me exactly what he needed from me and reassured me that he would absolutely help. He needed a form signed by my grandmother to get the ball rolling.

I got everything ready, heated up some pasta for dinner for her. Bundled up and took a walk over to her. My body needed to move, to inhale the cold air. I put in my earbuds and told my thoughts to shut the fuck up and let me have this walk to myself.

When I got to her floor, she was sitting in the common area with the other residents. I walked up to her and said, “Hi Beauty!” like I always do. She looked confused. I told her it was me. She told me to take her to her room. We wheeled down the hallway. I told her it snowed and asked if she had seen it. She said she had, through the window. When she pointed to a door and said “I think this is my room,” I told her she was right and we went in. I told her I had a form from the Veterans for her to sign, and that I brought her some pasta for dinner. We got the business out of the way. And then came the crushing blow I never saw coming…

She said “you look like someone I know.” I said, “it’s me Gram.” She looked confused. She kept asking if the person with my name had made the pasta. I kept telling her that it was me, that it was my name she was saying. She grew agitated. She said again that I looked familiar, but she didn’t know who I was. We made a little small talk, but I could feel her discomfort. I handed her the pasta, and I told her I would bring her back to the common area before dinner.

I want to be clear about some things. I know that I am dealing with a 102 year old woman. I know that it was after 3 PM and she has a tendency to “sun-down”. But this was different. She has been confused before, but she has never not known me.

I was destroyed. My main concern at that moment was making sure that she felt comfortable. And I realized, in that moment… comfort was not found in me like it usually was. Our goodbye was awkward. I told her I loved her and I would talk to her later. I got in the elevator with one of the nurses and held my breath until I could get back outside to the ice-cold air.

The walk home was quiet. I thought about the day I’d had, looked up at the sky filled with puffy white clouds and tried not to break my neck on the icy sidewalks. I took a detour to the corner store to pick up something for dinner. Before I arrived, a song shuffled in my earbuds and stopped me in my tracks. Hot tears poured out of my eyes. I gave myself a moment to cry and then collect myself, so I didn’t look like a mess when I walked into the store. I let myself sob on the long block home and pulled myself together before I walked through my door.

The rest of the evening continued peacefully, and I decided that after the day I’d had, I desperately needed sleep. I took Xanax and slept for 7 straight hours.

This post from 2021 was flashing like a neon sign as I walked to work this morning. 4 years ago, I wondered what all of this was for. It felt like nothing had changed. Here I am, still wondering what all of this is for. This is not what I ever wanted for her. And as good as she’s been, I forget how fragile all of this is. How quickly it can unravel, how easily it might just keep getting worse.

I know yesterday was one moment, and the next time I see her, it might not be like that. It might not happen again for a while. But it happened. And so, I want to reflect on a few things that have been going through my mind because this is important.

Reading that 2021 post again, I can see the fear I was carrying. Fear of loss, fear of what might happen if I couldn’t keep her safe. Yesterday, that fear was replaced with grief. Pure, aching grief. For so long, my life has revolved around her. Every thought, every action, every part of my day somehow has been in service to her comfort, her needs, her safety. And in the process, I lost myself. Pieces of me that weren’t even tied to her slowly disappeared, and I didn’t even notice. And that’s why a moment like yesterday hit me like a freight train.

Watching her not recognize me, even for a few minutes, somehow loops me back through all of it. The fear from back then. The years of putting her before myself. The part of my identity I built entirely around her presence in my life. It all comes rushing back at once.

Not just yesterday, not just the fear I carried in 2021, but the parts of myself I’ve lost over the years. The pieces tied to who I thought I was, who I’ve been for others, and who I’ve been trying to hold onto. I think back to this summer, to the losses I wrote about in my post in September: losing the dance studio, losing my father, and realizing how much of my life has been built around roles and responsibilities that defined me externally.

Yesterday somehow it all clicked. The identity I built around caring for others, the self I misplaced, the grief I shoved into corners of my mind, and a false happiness I’ve clung to, thinking that helping others could fill the parts of me that I lost. Her not recognizing me reminded me in a brutal, visceral way that I’ve been living so much outside of myself, and that now I need to begin rebuilding an identity that is exclusively mine, even though I have no idea where to start. Some of the main pieces of who I was were ripped away this year, and it’s not lost on me that it’s for a reason, whether I like it or not.

Every time another thing happened this year, I reminded myself “it’s not happening TO you, it’s happening FOR you.” I’ve said it countless times, but I don’t think I really believed it. It was just something I said to ground myself in reality. It’s all very clear to me now.

The truth is that lately, it has felt like my constant empathy, the thing that has defined so much of who I am, sometimes feels like it has turned to apathy. Maybe I’ve just been too exhausted, and my last bit of patience has been non-existent, I don’t know. My fuse is short and I shut down quickly. I don’t feel like the person I’ve known my whole life, and somehow, that’s ok. I’m scared to death and uncomfortable as hell, but I know that figuring out where to go from here is essential for my health. I can’t rebuild just to do it all over again. I need to rebuild carefully, in a way that protects me while also honoring the parts of myself that I’ve lost, and finally allows me to live my own life, not just in service to everyone else’s.

I was shaken awake in 2023, and for the years that followed, I wandered around in a foggy haze until a month ago. Refusing to give in. Believing that change wasn’t possible for me, or that I didn’t even really want anything to change. That I didn’t deserve dreams. Ignoring all the signs. Distracting myself with things that only detoured me for a little while. But in the last month, it’s felt like someone stood behind me, hands firmly on my shoulders, forcing me in front of the mirror that I’ve been running from. Forced me to stay there until I finally saw what I was avoiding. Watched me scream for mercy, beg to let me go and to let me run, until I exhausted myself and finally looked at the reflection.

I thought I lost myself so many times before, but 2025 was the year I finally had no choice but to fall apart. I’m still so scared. I still can’t fully accept joy, and there is still so much I need to learn before I can trust. My nervous system is still learning how to regulate while being so fucking uncomfortable that even one more minute of sitting in it feels unbearable. But I’m sitting here now, in the aftermath of every one of those unbearable moments, telling you about it. Proof that I prevail, in spite of myself.

At the beginning of this year I rolled my eyes at the thought of “taking my power back” because I didn’t know what it meant. I get it now. Life ebbs and flows whether you like it or not. What matters is how you show up in the middle of it. When the chaos hits, when the grief comes, when nothing feels steady. Showing up, even when it’s uncomfortable, is where the power lives. And I’m finally learning to stand in it without apology.

I don’t make resolutions anymore. This year won’t be any different. What I will do is recognize, finally, how far I’ve come. I will carry with me the clarity that I am stronger than I thought, that I can survive heartbreak and chaos, and that light can return even after the darkest days. I am not too much. I am me. And I am done resisting myself. I have sacrificed so much to get here, there’s no turning back now.

And so, I step into whatever comes next fully aware, fully present, and fully myself. No fear, no shame, just the quiet steady force of everything I’ve survived and everything I’m willing to fight for.

Tonight, I will breathe, knowing I’m here and ready to move forward. As always, thanks for reading. I’m always here if you need me…

under the curving sky, I’m finally learning why, it matters for me and you, to say it and mean it too, for life and its loveliness, and all of its ugliness, good as it’s been to me, I have no enemies…

Song name: NO HARD FEELINGS/ Artist: THE AVETT BROTHERS/ Year: 2016

Anche Fragile

io non vivo senza sogni e tu sai che è così, e perdonami se sono forte, sì e se poi sono anche fragile…

There’s a post in my drafts right now telling you all about my trip to Sicily. And for whatever reason, I couldn’t finish writing it. It all seemed very mundane and blah and I just wasn’t feeling it. Today was a super mushy day. I felt very disconnected from everything despite my best efforts to stay engaged and participate with everyday life. One week ago I was sitting in a parking lot across from the sea, watching the moon through the clouds, smiling and listening to the waves crash, and now I couldn’t feel farther away.

I was never really a beach person. My very pale skin always burns despite all of the SPF and I hate having sand in places I didn’t know existed. But as a Pisces, I’m drawn to the water. And so when I visited Sicily in May, it was important that I took advantage of the nice weather and stayed in a beach town. As someone who spends the majority of her days either in a very overcrowded city or glued to her couch, when I arrived, it was a literal breath of fresh air. And so with this visit, even though it was cooler and the sun set earlier, it did not deter me from going back to the same place.

I would like to tell you that I’ve changed, that this trip fixed all the things that were broken, and so on. People asked me if I found out anything profound, or if I feel different, are you happy now, do you feel better, will this be your last trip? People can’t wrap their brains around a woman going away without her husband to chase something that they don’t understand. And I get it. Two years ago I would have been the same way. I already told you, I can’t explain it, but I’m lucky to have a husband who lets me go where my soul is leading me. And literally talk me off a ledge when I’m on 30 hours of no sleep, panicking that the world will fall apart because I selfishly took another trip alone, and wanting to book a plane ticket home immediately. He’s the calm, I’m the storm.

Please understand that this is not me gallivanting around the world, taking pretty pictures for social media and living my best life. This shit is gut wrenching and not at all aesthetically pleasing. I spend a lot of time sitting in different places and feeling shit that I don’t understand. One day, the rain stopped for a little while, I found the biggest rock on the beach that I could sit on and I just sat there. The wind was blowing ferociously and I just sat there, watching the clouds and the sea. There was literally no one around. It was such a peaceful moment and I just breathed it all in as tears involuntarily poured out of my eyes. Completely out of character for someone like me, but what does that even mean?

I am still navigating my way through all of this. Things have shifted and I am not sure where to put them. I am still processing all of it. As much as I am here, a part of me is there, and I don’t know what to do with that. So I’m just trying to be patient with myself. When the feelings of missing it arise, I try to move the energy and put it to good use instead of letting the feelings completely drown me. And I’m proud of myself for that at least.

I’ve spent my entire life being my own worst enemy. With shame and guilt standing firmly by my side. And I’m ready to let that go, but it’s going to take a minute. So I’m just trying to be a little gentler with myself. Some days are better than others. I am so used to hating myself that it makes me cringe when I try to do otherwise. But I’m learning. Beating myself up over every single thing is not productive. Crucifying myself for every mistake is not productive. Learning to be a little nicer to myself is way more productive. Even one little step everyday is a step in the right direction.

As much as I sometimes resent it, I am grateful for this journey. There is still so much I am trying to figure out. Patience is key and I have none (LOL), but I will get there. Not to be dramatic, but my life kind of depends on it. A little over two years ago I remember the moment the light left my eyes, and it feels like I’ve been clawing my way out of the darkness ever since. Everything has led me to this point. There’s a quote I saw recently, I’ll probably get it wrong, so don’t officially quote me here, but it’s something like “Courage is not the absence of fear, but the ability to act in spite of it.” And I believe that’s what I’m doing here. The fears have been piling up over the years, making me this shell of a human just trying to survive, and each time I do the thing that scares me, even with shaky hands and more panic than my little body should be able to handle, it’s an act of courage for myself.

I always pushed myself beyond my means to get things done and stay strong to a fault. I feel everything to my core and break sometimes. More often than not lately, but fuck it. I powered through for a really long time, doing the most while asking for the bare minimum. Carrying the whole world on my little back so that I could be loved. And you know what? None of that was necessary. Learning that has been a painful and enlightening lesson, but it had to happen eventually. And maybe I’m not the same person that I was before, I don’t know. But I am doing my best, taking it minute by minute, and that’s really all I can do.

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

quella forte, sì, però anche quella fragile…

Song name: ANCHE FRAGILE/ Artist: ELISA/ Year: 2018

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

THROUGH MY PRAYERS

hard to believe I won’t see you again, we were just fighting when winter began, the coldness of our words competing with the wind from the north, still they make me shiver but in a very different way, the pages of the calendar kept turning away, I have some better words now, but it’s too late to say them to you… my dream of all dreams and my hope of all hopes is only to tell you and make sure you know how much I love you and how much I always did… and yes I know you loved me I could see it in your eyes, and it was in your struggle and it was in your mind, and it was in the smile you gave me when I was a kid… feels like no one understands, and now my only chance to talk to you is through my prayers, I only wanted to tell ya I care…

This is the last you’ll see from me regarding my dad. His passing was unexpected and I’m not really sure how I feel about it.

I feel like I keep getting the wind knocked out of me. This time it’s taking me a little longer to catch my breath. The past 7 days felt like 3 months. The days are extremely long. There’s something really unnerving about knowing there are no more chances for us to make things right. As broken as we were, and as many times as I said that I was done, the little girl inside me wished that he would reach out. That things would be different. That we could have healed a little and made it work. But that’s done now. I’m sad and I’m angry. Most of all, my heart is broken for him.

This song shuffled the day after he died. I was walking to my office when it made its way into my earbuds and I was stopped in my tracks. I found myself involuntarily sobbing in the middle of 7th Avenue. The lyrics are perfect and say everything that I am not able to.

Thanks for reading…

every night after and every day since, I find myself crying when the memory hits, sometimes it knocks me down, sometimes I can just put it away… down in my mind where I don’t care to go, the pain of a lesson is letting me know if you have love in your heart let it show while you can… yes now I understand, but now my only chance to talk to you is through my prayers, I only wanted to tell ya I care…

Song name: THROUGH MY PRAYERS/ Artist: The Avett Brothers/ Year: 2012

BLACK LINES TO BATTLEFIELDS

like screaming in the air, the sound for all who care, the siren rings in vain, when lightning hits the ground, to all who stand around, the shock of ignorance…

I haven’t cried hysterically in 2 whole days. I felt like I should tell you that. And I have been trying really hard to keep it that way. The last few days have been busy, but when I have free moments, or time to listen while I’m doing whatever I’m doing, I am working hard at trying to actually heal. I listened to something today that struck a chord with me, and I wanted to write about it. It made perfect sense to me and maybe someone else needs to hear it too.

The abandonment wound is the driving force behind my composition. I have searched high and low for some other explanation, and all roads always lead me right back to it. And so since I’m actually giving this healing shit a shot, I have been diving a little deeper into how to fix it. I’ve said it here before, my self worth is less than zero. I don’t see any value in me being here. Yea, I can do a million things for everyone, but at the end of the day, I always see myself as replaceable. When I think of feeling anything else about myself, I feel weird. Because it’s not something that is familiar in my body. I always thought less than less about myself, and it’s going to take me a minute to shift that perspective.

When you’re on a healing/spiritual journey, you get a LOT of videos, articles, books on Carl Jung. Please Google him; he’s done far too much for me to write it all out here. His work is revolutionary and I won’t even begin to scratch the surface by trying to give you an abridged version. Anyway, when everything kind of fell apart inside of me, I was introduced, almost immediately, to his work on the “inner child”. It refers to the subconscious part of you, your younger self, who is still holding on to memories and behaviors from childhood. If you were wounded by some form of trauma or neglect and your younger self is still holding on to those things, it will affect your conscious life as an adult. And man, I fucking felt that. And so I listen to and read a lot of things in relation to this because I believe, 100%, that this is where a lot of my healing needs to happen.

What I listened to today was about the inner child and how it creates and shapes the relationships you make in your life. And how subconsciously you are attracting specific types of people into your life based on how that wounded inner child still feels. The video talked about different types of wounds and I actually stopped what I was doing to write down what was said about the abandonment wound: “Our psyche tends to seek the familiar, even when the familiar is painful. There’s a perverse comfort zone in repeating known patterns, even when they cause suffering because at least we know how to navigate this pain. The wounded inner child prefers known suffering to unknown happiness because suffering is predictable and controllable, while true happiness requires vulnerability and the possibility of loss.”

The reason why this seemed to really hit me hard today is because I wasn’t sad today and I didn’t know what to do with myself. It’s become such a norm for me to be crying about something, that when I wasn’t, it was weird. Bear with me here, I know this sounds fucking bananas. I’ve been saying for a while that it is me standing in my own way. I thought that it was just fear. But it’s so much more than that. I have subconsciously blocked myself, time and time again, mostly because I felt I wasn’t worth it. That my dreams and ideas would never amount to anything because there was no one pushing that little kid to amount to anything more than I currently am. So the same cycles keep repeating over and over again. And this supposed “comfort zone” is no longer comfortable. I have subconsciously refused to even give myself a chance until now.

As I’m writing this out, there is a lot flowing out of me. It’s far too much and far too personal to write about here, but I just figured something out. I was just trying to remember the first time I ever felt anxiety, and I fucking remembered. I was maybe 5 years old. I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, but I remember this moment like it just happened. I know what I was wearing, I remember what I did, I remember all of it, very vividly. And that is absolutely fucking crazy. I have never had a revelation like this before, so please excuse me if I sound a little out of my mind. But I remember that feeling from that day, and it’s the feeling I have felt my whole life any time anxiety was involved. And I see little me and I remember her and how she felt in that moment. And I want to hug her for as long as she will let me and tell her that she made a mistake, and that mistakes happen, and everything will be alright. That she is loved even though she took a little misstep.

I have done stints in therapy during different periods of my life, and I don’t remember ever talking about this moment. And I guess anything I did or allowed in therapy was always surface level. It seemed that every time I opened up to something more, the hour was up and I was left like the walking wounded having to go back to regular life with this giant, gaping hole in my chest. Subconsciously I guess I blocked myself from healing as well. I guess everything has been leading up to this moment in my life where I am finally saying “enough is enough”. I can’t keep carrying this shit around with me, it’s fucking heavy. And I’m fucking tired.

The craziest part of all of this is that I’m writing it out and I’m not crying. There’s a little lump in my throat but I’m mad. I am feeling anger. Not in a non-productive way though. I’m not going to beat myself up about this. I’m just mad that I’ve allowed this. That I am a fully grown adult and still feel like a child, constantly looking for the acceptance and approval of the adults around me. Over sharing and hoping that people will like and accept me. Approve of the decisions I make in my life. Not be mad at me. And then leave me if they don’t approve. That’s the thing. The abandonment wound is such an underlying thing, that I’m afraid if I’m not sorry for being me then people will leave. What the fuck?! Like, I feel like I always knew this, but now I can’t not know this…

My whole existence has always had this internal battle. I get preemptive anxiety over telling people things, afraid of what the reaction will be. This has been a lifelong battle and it needs to stop right here. I need to stop apologizing for being me. Most importantly, I need to be okay with being me. I said earlier that I felt weird feeling anything other than bad about myself. That changes today. It is going to take me a minute, but I’m done fighting and trying to prove that I am not a garbage human being. I’m not saying it in a conceited way. I just need to stop dragging myself into these dark places because I don’t know how to exist in any other place. Just saying that gives me the ick, but I need to start breaking that programming. It will get easier.

I am really pleased that we got to experience this breakthrough in real time. I have stopped myself so many times from seeing the bigger picture. From digging deeper to see the root of the problem. To quote Chandler Bing “can open… worms everywhere”… but they are my worms, and they’ve been jammed up in that can for far too long. I can’t keep not choosing happiness because it might be scary. I have never even allowed myself to be happy for too long because someone was always ready to rip it away from me. And that’s not fair, and it’s not okay. And I’m aware of it now, and it’s strange but it’s clear.

I can’t promise that tomorrow won’t be a battle, but this was a little push into the land of actual progress that I needed, very badly. I appreciate you sticking with me, I honestly didn’t know where this was going to go when I started writing. But going forward, not everything is going to be an all out battle. All of the tools that I’ve been walking around with will prove themselves useful once I start shifting this weird fucking narrative I’ve been playing in my head. Thanks, as always for reading. I’m always here if you need me…

black lines can turn to battlefields when they are drawn in pen, the stop signs like human apathy, can cause a fatal crash… like screaming in the air, the sound for all who care, the siren rings in vain, when lightning hits the ground, to all who stand around, the shock of ignorance… the feeling hard to tell, a word can break the spell…

Song name: BLACK LINES TO BATTLEFIELDS/ Artist: Acceptance/ Year: 2003

ORPHEUS (Part III)

don’t stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos, though I know it’s blinding there’s a way out, say out loud we will not give up on love now, no fear, don’t you turn like Orpheus, just stay here, hold me in the dark and when the day appears we’ll say we did not give up on love today…

I’m starting off in a different direction than I usually do. I want to talk about Orpheus, and what this song refers to when Sara says “no fear, don’t you turn like Orpheus”. I read ORPHEUS (Part II) and was disappointed to see that the post I wrote a year and a half ago is still my current situation. So, we are going to pivot today and see if I can talk myself into some clarity. Because I woke up feeling completely out of sorts and sad this morning, and it seems that there is nothing that will get me out of it at the moment, maybe this will help?

The story of Orpheus (my very abridged version)… In Greek mythology, it was said that he could charm anyone or anything with his music. He fell in love with Eurydice, they were married happily for a short time. The story changes a little bit, depending on what source your reading from. Regardless, all stories say she was bitten by a snake and died. Orpheus sang his grief so that everyone and everything knew about his sorrow. Eventually he decides to descend to the underworld to see Eurydice. His music moved Hades and his wife Persephone so much that Hades agreed to let Eurydice go back with Orpheus under one condition: He must walk in front of her out of the underworld and not look back until they returned to the living world. He agreed, because he thought himself to be a patient man. As they walked back, he couldn’t hear her footsteps and was afraid that he was fooled. When they were just a few feet from the exit, Orpheus lost his faith, turned around, and sent Eurydice back into the underworld forever. He tried to return to the underworld, but the story goes that you can only enter once while living. The story varies on how he died, but he sang songs of grief wishing for his own death and eventually was killed to be reunited with his wife. His lyre was cast into the sky as a constellation, and his head was saved by the Muses so that he could sing forever and enchant everyone with his music.

Why am I talking about this? It’s important that I talk about this. It’s a story about patience and trust. Both of which, I do not have. Since I wrote the above post last year, nothing has changed. Yea, okay, a few things changed, but nothing so important that I’ve seen a difference. I have no patience on this journey and I, most certainly, have no trust. I have not been able to surrender and have chosen to stay in a place of fear. Fear is familiar to me. Somehow it is safe. And when I read the story of Orpheus, I get it. I would have 100% turned around to make sure she was behind me.

I have days where I say I trust the process and I can see myself making it out of this mess. But do I really trust the process? Apparently not. And I know why I can’t. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to affect the people around me. I don’t want my decisions or needs to hurt anyone. I’m here because I completely abandoned myself and that needed to change. But on days like today, the spiral of thoughts is absolutely unbearable. I keep seeing flashes of the life I imagine and it just feels so far away. I don’t know what I need. I want someone to tell me everything will be okay and I want to believe them when they say it. But I don’t. I don’t trust any process. For some reason, I choose to spiral.

I am so fucking lost and I really don’t want to be. But it’s like every time I see a twinkle of hope, I don’t believe it. I’m afraid that it will get taken away from me. My whole life I have waited for the other shoe to drop. When something good happens, I can’t embrace it because I’m so afraid that something bad will follow. And so I don’t allow myself to believe that I can even make one of my dreams come true because something devastating will ultimately follow. And that is no way to live, but it’s literally the only way I’ve ever known. And unlearning that has been my biggest feat.

I am still so scared to deviate from the normal loop of things. And I become impatient when I make a few small changes and get diverted to something else, making the process more complicated, and I lose faith immediately. I don’t want to do any more fucking work. I am tired. I just want one fucking thing to be easy. But why would it be? I don’t trust in it. I haven’t proven that if I’m finally given the thing that I would even be able to accept or appreciate it. Because I’m always waiting for the bad thing to follow. And so maybe today I’ll try to fix that. Maybe today will be the day that I shift my mindset. I got the shit humbled out of me reading my previous Orpheus post. So much time has passed and yet, here I am, telling the same fucking story over and over again.

I have finally stopped crying, so I will take that as a win. I’m going to try and turn the day around despite wasting half of it in this state of mind. I hold all of the answers to my healing, and yet I still allow outside sources to affect the path of my life. I have spent so much time being this way that changing it seems impossible. I know it’s possible. I don’t want to give up. I just can’t seem to settle down when I have these moments. But I have to believe that there is more for me than this mental prison that I am choosing. This can’t be the end goal for me, so I need to really start believing. Really start trusting, not just saying that I trust.

That’s all I can muster up for today. Tomorrow will be better. Thanks, as always, for reading…

we did not give up on love today…

Song name: ORPHEUS/ Artist: Sara Bareilles / Year: 2019

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