"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living." - Jonathan Safran Foer
I knew it would be hard, but not so difficult. And I haven’t felt like this for years – extremely angry, nervous, and afraid of new, repetitive days. Too tired to wake up in the morning, or unwilling to simply get up. I haven’t felt so lonely, useless and sad for so many Marches. Unable to write, to concentrate, to think. And this one week seemed an entire month.
My drug was my work. Now I feel like I have nothing. Just haunted memories, wandering in my head, trying to decide which ones are the real stuff, which ones were just illusions.
Someone dear to me sent me today the following link and I found myself in the image of the person who always helps the other. “Anger, denial and desperation”, yes, that’s exactly what I feel now. Self-reliance. Maybe this is what makes me so good in keeping up the work when others would have given up by now. But this is only one side of the cube.
Life taught me that it is too damn short and it can end in an instant. Not just for me, for any of us. I am not good at words, at uttered, articulated words, at opening myself, but I promised that I would show to the others what they are to me and I would try as much as possible to be what I want them to remember me. People are not born to suffer, to just work-have kids-die. And I have always wanted to remember them this. And to give a hand to anyone who needs it. Reading this, letting myself feel my fury, I asked myself what I would feel, what would I take with me if tomorrow never comes, what people I would be sure that they made a difference for me. And I didn't like the answer.
You would think that when one always helps it will always be surrendered by friends and people, and these people will learn to be better, kinder persons. Will never hurt us. Never abandon us. Never forget. But it’s not like this at all, on the contrary. You see, people who help a lot tend to say a lot of “it’s ok” when it isn’t ok at all. We do want simple gestures in our lives, and it is not ok when they are not present. We don't want to be forgotten after a few months of going abroad. Or (feeling) replaced. We want to be called on our birthdays. Or not to hear every year that there was a Christmas and other people were on top of the list. We want to see people caring, not forgetting/calling/going out with you just when you are useful. We still want to feel from time to time appreciated. And respected. Not taken for granted. We still want to be asked how we feel, despite being there like solid rocks for others. And accepting everything. We are not like this, we just know how to hide our real feelings, we are better when it comes to wearing our masks. So good that we fool even ourselves. And as I previously said, we are extremely bad when it comes to speaking, to say through words what we want. We are still human beings, and sometimes, we are carrying inside our souls huge black rocks with us.
The problem is that we don't say a thing. Just "it's ok" instead of "no, it's not right". We keep saying these three words, fooling ourselves that we don't feel a thing, and we build our depressions brick by brick. Feeling insignificant, replaceable, used. Receiving only the leftovers. We put one brick today, another one tomorrow, till we put so many bricks that we feel suffocated. And we explode to simple, meaningless things. The question is how do we get out of here? How do we learn to swim?
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