Tag Archives: relationships

Grief

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Over the last few years my grief has capsulated me into a space where I am unable to feel . I have been walking in a haze wondering when the days will end. I ask myself why and create responses that reflect facts and aggressive fiction. I have issues with my self-esteem. I see every incident as a sign that shows abandonment . I have allowed moments of clarity keep me treading water while the other moments I am just floating in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with no sight of land for miles. I just float in an endless brilliant sun and waves that kind of cradle me instead of pulling me under.

I have been living in the scene unable to process the next steps with a clear mind and spirit. My ancestors have been cradling me , mainly the ones that crossed the great sea and chose freedom in the depths of the sea and the ancestors who escaped into the mountains and brought our traditions with our gods to the new world of the Caribs. My ancestors may not have been great fighters yet they found a way to stay alive and they have been keeping me from sinking. My mother has joined them and I hear her saying ”mommy loves you “. Its what she said every time we were together about to part ways. She said it in every message as well , Hi, its mommy in all her messages.

This is her favorite time of year. It was mine too and still is which makes it feel conflicting. I have lived with unprocessed grief and have forgotten how to keep her alive in my soul. I forget to soak the fruit for cake, to buy a tree , to play cheesy music and watch atrocities Christmas’ movies. I just sulk. I stopped hosting , creating a space for community that felt safe and freeing. I just walked out the door to sink into grief.

Grief has had an easy passage since I have dealt with bouts of depression for years. I have had moments where I never left the bed , just sleeping because in my head I felt seen , well, loved and successful. I have struggled for years. I pretend in public, thanks to taking theatre classes for a year. I pretended so much that now I am tired and say fuck it.

I scare people now. I am honest and clear on how I feel . I say what is hurting to those who are closest to me. I let people know that I have moods. I get nervous if I am overwhelming and try to balance who gets which parts of what is heavy on my soul. I have people that know how hard this month is for me. How it would be full of light and sensory endorphins to now bleakness and grey skies.

People that thought they were my friends , have left me because I am no longer “fun” because I cannot hid anymore. I am open now because I need help. I am open now because staying closed could cause my final chapter to happen. I have dreamed a particular dream for years where a death of some kind is coming for me and I run but not really. I had it again however this time and embraced it . This threw death of course and hesitated to attack me . It came to me slowly only for me to kill it. I want to live and proclaimed it . I want to live for my ancestors hard work and for me. This is my present to myself. To live for me because floating will eventually give me a horrible sunburn which would ruin my velvety chocolate skin plus the pruning could become permanent. I have decided to swim towards the next step in a vast body of water that currently hasn’t land in sight.

Will I find land , hopefully. If I don’t at least I have started to swim. The waves have always been kind to me all these years. I think they want to me to explore.

Do They Know?

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I wonder if when a person leaves this realm do they truly know that you loved them because you didn’t say the words despite your actions or if your actions seem awkward and your words meant truth? Do they know the truth when you have intentionally ignored them , birthdays and holidays -never a word. Do they know or do they learn the truth in the possible afterlife many of us have been taught to believe in . I think about my encounters with those close to me passing . I have mainly arrived after the fact. I have never seen a person slip out of this realm in a wake sense. I have seen those in a coma state , resting and waiting . I think of this at times because I don’t want the idea of dying to be scary to me. It cannot be because so many people that I truly love are there. If they are there, why should I be afraid to see them again, if there is an again.

Do they know in that final moment or is really just shock and then nothing? We are mortal and are adamant of representing immortality. There are those of us who really have no idea of when the last breathe will happen , then there are us who are in areas that make this thought center stage. The knowing that resting is not possible. The sound of explosions, the entering of buildings that are on fire, the profession of cleaning a window on the 250th floor, the idea of just crossing a street or the fact your skin could guarantee no tomorrows if you ask for help in an area that is prejudice against you. Will they know that they were loved? Will they think of you? Is there an inner journey that seems like the quantum realm to the living be at a crawling pace for the departing?

The idea of spirits coming back for unfinished business is nice to me, yet I think is not real. I like the idea of my ancestors journeying with me , after all I am their wildest dream. Spirits , if real , are seen as bystanders when good and active tyrants when evil. Why are good spirits always so helpless in movies and evil is without bounds? This is a poor mindset that the media has given us. One thing I have noticed with the idea of spirits is that they were evil because of abuse thus they form a pact with higher evil resulting in multitude of films repeating the story in various forms. I want spirits to be real because I want to make sure my loves know I loved them even though they did know; I want to say it to them to ease my soul. It’s selfish, I am human.

I doubt that the spirit world is real because following the ideas we created about angry spirits , there would be no Europeans walking this realm. So many ethnicities have been wiped out by this group of people thus they wouldn’t be. I cannot comprehend the idea that they would allow the oppressors linage to continue. So , my ancestors are possible not spirits. However, it is through the storytelling of spirits one’s ancestors are kept close, dying can have some balm, and abstract thought can thrive. The thoughts felt and dreamed may be DNA; the passing of organic material infused with new material in a new era. It possible could be explained by science. Is it their anger, fear, joy and countless emotions I feel or am I delusional? Either case I know never respond direct if a voice call my name that I cannot see, be mindful when beating the drum for I could be calling the dead and keep a white candle on standby.

So, do they know that you loved them? Maybe

Will I ever get my answer to this ? Yes

Will I be able to share it ? No

Because some things of this life are meant to always be pondered.

Happy Hallows Eve.

Rambling IV

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The writer who never writes can never  be complete.  I  have no idea if someone has said this but it came to me .  I have been getting opportunities to really be a writer , at least a solid novice writer and  I am scared  so  I  either procrastinate on purpose or  is there  more to my fear of writing ?

I have never learned how to type properly despite it probably being a simple practice yet I find my fingers going all over the qwerty working and some how making the brainwaves that are my words into reality.  Go Brain!

The world is strange and unusual. I find myself lost in a relationship and with friends and yet  I am so happy about these moments I forget to document them the same way I documented my misery.  Thankfully I  have photos yet what is the sense that the emotion that gives me pain I remember yet the simple , chill moments I always wanted -I  ignore or barely give a moment to reflect. I am Twisted !

this ramble is complete …  sort of

Foolish Daughter

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How can I be so powerful yet so dependent on the affections of a man? How is it so? What is the curse that I “believe ” in what he thinks, feels, and understands … he is just a man. What is the curse that I take so much more meaning of his feeling towards me, that have some how overrided MY feeling and attitude about me.

How can this be? My body can carry life, harbour it until it is ready to leave the shore. I am the power, the nature, the nurture, the magic. I am so lost on this constant cycle I experience , as well, women I know.

He is not all, yet I make him so.

I am still the little girl waitng for her daddy to really fight for her.  He never did nor will he. He is content in his  inadquate space in my life. He is not trying to be more. He never tried. I know daddy issues are my key problem. I know he never was a fighter. He was never a brave man.

My dad  just exist.

I see this reflected in my relationships. I want bravery. The little girl in me knows her dad is not a defender yet she keeps hoping. The woman in me pushes on and yet is still holding hands with the little girl ..waiting to see.  If maybe.

In all the debacle, the mother is left holding the world in one hand and her children in the other. The children , especially the eldest, me. I take for granted so much of what she did and does because I was waiting on my dad, to be brave.

I neglected the true warrior. The bravest, boldest, gentliest human ever-my mother. The true life force. I kept looking past her and not at her. I was and am  a foolish daughter.

I am lucky .  My mother is still alive. I am given time to rectify the misguidance of my younger self. Hopefully, it  will start to reflect in my relationships.

I love both my parents. But I am in love with my mother.

 

Fairy Tales

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It’s hot in Roma. It is so hot the choices are 1) stay at home in your underwear and drink everything cold in the house, never  use the stove because that will make heat  2) go away –far away from  Roma  3) go to the beach daily if you cannot afford to travel or  you have time to use before your vacation 4) Stand still.  I chose option 3- the beach is what i did for a week or so , more or less. I spend my days burning my already brown skin ( with SPF 30) until was completely even.

Ostia is easily accessible by train. The station is Piramide in Ostiense. It’s about 40 minutes from beginning to end . Then a 10-15 minute  bus ride, depending on what type of beach you fancy. My fancy is the free beaches that are closer to the end. Ostia doesn’t have picturesque beaches. Its a usable beach that works.

I went for a few days to pass the time sometimes solo or with friends. I am so tan right now my mother is going to have many words for me when I see her in a few days. Anyway, I was at the beach, trying to practice my weak swimming in peace when a man decided he should invade my space. Like a true shark he swam around me for about 2 minutes getting closer and closer  and then  creating dialogue.  He ask formalities and I answered with short answers. Then he decided to talk about the beach. “This beach is used also by nudist:”

Me:  I know I see them.

Man: I usually am too

Me: Good for you

Man: Would you like to try to?

Me: Why are you so uninviting?

Man: it is perfectly normal,….in fact i will do it now…( HE took off his shorts in the water) ………He was standing there feeling proud in his unclothing .

I turned and swam away. On the sand my friend asked me if she just saw what I witnessed..I shook my head yes.  We sat in silence.   The man comes out the water , puts on his pants and disappears for some time. When we are settled and relaxed , like a shadow, the man appeared.  I was getting ready  to responded when the couple beside us jumped in and told him to go away. He left for good. This is Roma.

I am a woman of color. I have many experiences of highs and lows of living here.  This is just one encounter that was UBER extreme. Overall, my experiences have been graceful and respectful. This guy was the first to just disgust me and I am sharing it.  When men ask if I am Brazilian , it’s more due to what they know of black culture. Despite watching all modern programs , music artists and pop culture…a large group of Italians are still un-evolved on foreign women. It is not only dark skin women in this boat. I am only mentioning my experience.

I have met normal guys here , yet as in all things the asinine encounters really stick with me.I don’t let them become my personality  I just don’t forget. I have on many occasions confront them , which makes them run. Having a strong character is a must here.  I have a great love for Italy in a whole . I love the feel of living in this ancient slightly modern world. I just have no desire for romance, which many women find here , as the Italians call it EAT PRAY LOVE moment.  I would love to have such a moment even a temporary one. This would  require a brave guy to rise from the non-commitment, mammoni , bubbled culture.  It sounds impossible …however I still believe in unicorns.

varco 3

Merry, Merry

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It is a strange feeling when you travel and return home, excited to see friends and family and seeking some comforts from home.  Seeing  your family and friends they ask about your adventures and how amazing it must be living in another country, especially Italy. You talk and answer questions for a few hours; talking about the splendor yet making them aware of the hardships that surround the ancient world of romance thus ruining the images that films have created of how  “amore filled” adventures cascaded from the sky from the gods.

This is the scene day one and maybe day two afterwards you are you to them again; the only difference you have been somewhere. Then Christmas begins and the real traditions start. And the usually statements begin…….

-“SO…. , no boyfriend yet?

-“when are you going to get married , you’re not young anymore?”

-“You DO like men, RIGHT?”

-“I would think some guy over there would marry you ”

-“well, maybe one day you will meet someone…,,,,,,,hopefully”

-“You DO want children?”

-“well , how do think you will meet a man when you keep running them away”

-“Dress up more”

It goes on and on .

I am an adult yet these moments happen , my parents thankfully are NOT the culprits of this just the rest of the family and some friends ( the- married -and -second- kid- on- the- way-friend) have disapproved of my lack of skills in “capturing” a man.

I feel pressured.

I leave the room, walk away from the conversation, or go for a walk. I hate this part and always will.

I just want to return to Italy now, where this part of my life doesn’t happen. Even though I do want a partner, I have no clue how to “capture” one to the point of marriage  and/or children. I just want some one that will  automatically warm my feet in the winter under the covers.  I am not skilled in the art of seduction or whatever is required now a days to attract a mate.

My family and friends they mean well, it’s their way of showing concern ( I hate it) yet I still love them. This has been the way of expressing concern for centuries.  It is not the best way yet it has made it to 2014 and counting.

holiday-workout

Ramble III

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I have to admit I do not think I will ever be able to experience a true relationship with differences and similarities involved in being a “we” instead  of an  “I”. I think I will never reach this place. I know they say  never say never, yet never feel accurate with my track record. This  pinnacle  that many people reach in a relationship or at least I believe they are in the right direction; I feel is out of my realm. I am alone. I have tried and complicated many opportunities for a possible happily ever after  only to some how feel alone even in the dating-relationship stages. I feel that my potential in this department becomes weaker every year.

How do I deal with these feeling of being possible alone for  maybe the rest of my days? I am not sure. I just know its time I admit I cannot function right to have a beginning in a relationship .I sabotage me.  I wish it was abandonment issues with my father or neglect yet I a not sure what is the true source of my unwilling and afraid nature of accepting a life joined with another person outside of family

In many occasions I blame it on my introverted nature , yet that is not fair. I think of times I speak out and expression my feelings which get me labeled as crazy.  Then if I hold everything inside I feel trapped and let things fade out in an unresolved way which I  then I re-enact in my mind what I should have said or done.  I need to be the protagonist of my story and not a viewer. I do not have a fairy tale life  nor  a hard knocks life. I just have a life in transition with ambiguous potential and I have no clue how to utilize it.  What can I do about it? figure me out and maybe I can reach a beginning of where I start forming me.

Lover

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My lover is missing, for I cannot find him. Actually, I haven’t met him, yet. “Yet”is all I can say to keep hope alive. “Yet , yet, yet ” I hope this phase will finally end and my lover will be. My lover is what I want and need. Why is this concept so hard to achieve? My friends want husbands and boyfriends and I, my lover.  My lover to share a warm bath with, to travel with, to read to,  to kiss, touch, to love and share a bed every night.
My lover is missing.