Alive

 

December 28th, 2016; around 7pm

 

Why didn’t I post this last year?!

Maybe I was not ready. Or I didn’t feel enough…

As a matter of fact I still don’t.

But it’s been THREE years now… Who knew?!

A LOT separates me from December 28th of 2015. Even more of 2013…

But, yeah, well… I’m alive.

 

 

December 28th, 2015; around 10:30pm

 

Wordpress

 

It’s been two years… Congratulations to me?

 

 

“I was born in a thunderstorm
I grew up overnight
I played alone
I’m playing on my own
I survived

Hey
I wanted everything I never had
Like the love that comes with light
I wore envy and I hated that
But I survived

I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go
Where the wind don’t change
And nothing in the ground can ever grow
No hope, just lies
And you’re taught to cry in your pillow
But I’ll survive

I’m still breathing [4x]
I’m alive [4x]

I found solace in the strangest place
Way in the back of my mind
I saw my life in a stranger’s face
And it was mine

(…)
I had made every single mistake
That you could ever possibly make
I took and I took and I took what you gave
But you never noticed that I was in pain
I knew what I wanted; I went in and got it
Did all the things that you said that I wouldn’t
I told you that I would never be forgotten
And all in spite of you

And I’m still breathing
I’m still breathing
I’m still breathing
I’m still breathing
I’m alive (…)”

Dear Future Me 6

 

 

Let’s see how much I will have learned until the next year….

 

* * *

Dear Future Me,

it was a great surprise to receive a letter today — as it always is, I guess.

It’s “interesting” to see how some things are still the same, after one year… after almost two years… after a lifetime.
I feel some of those things as if they had happened yesterday — and then saudade strikes like a bicth. But some painful memories hit me as well, and then I feel kinda happy they are already in the past.

I finally left that job and some leeches who used to drain me dry. Some times I think/ask myself if that was really the best move (with the crisis and everything)… Specially since I had to “pay” for that (yeah, in money ALSO), but it was totally worth it. Undoubtfully.
I haven’t been working since the end of May, but soon I’ll have to start looking for a new job. The end of the month is my deadline, actually.
But I’m fine with that; I had a little bit of time to clear my head.

Even though I got really close to getting in the university I thought I would, I didn’t. And it turned out to be for the best.
I got in another one — which I found out is way better.
Despite the fact I’m not the most sociable person, I can keep conversations with almost everybody (the ones that matter — to me haha — at least). But “making friends” demands a lot from me and my patience.
And my grades are pretty good so far haha! I wish they were this good in my first semester in biology. This motivates me a lot; perhaps now I’m finally on the right track.

I’m also getting involved in some projects (extra hours!!!), which are quite interesting. I’m really getting some stuff done, and this makes me feel more useful.

Yet, somehow I continue to feel misplaced. And lonely, definitely.

My sister has traveled almost three months ago, and by the time I receive this she will be already here.
Probably I won’t have the chance to visit her there, and this hurts me in so many different ways.
I don’t feel “jealous”, but I still don’t know why I never got this chance (or the support to go after it).

Life at home crushes me more and more each day; I gotta find a way to get out of here. For my own sanity’s sake.

I’m still “single”. I wish I could move on at last; maybe then I could really meet someone, but it ain’t easy for me — and I can’t figure it out yet.
But I’m on the way, maybe. Therapy helps a lot with that — even though RIGHT NOW I feel quite stuck.

“This too shall pass”, I suppose.

The amount of things I had to write this time shows me how much has happened this year, but I still have a loooooong way to go.

I just hope I can keep finding energy and strength for that within myself, ‘cause I just feel like giving up from time to time.

But I’m more resilient than that — I guess.

“Keep on swimming”, dear.

Muddy Waters

From time to time I ask myself if I’m broken beyond repair.

And I always get to the conclusion that I actually am — but, somehow, I still have some hope I’ll be able to live on. After all, I’m still “stuck” here, so I might as well live (or survive, at least).

Yeah; I’m still alive. I guess.

* * *

Last Friday we have lost someone we actually cared about.

A father, a husband, an uncle, a godfather, a friend, a brother, a brother-in-law, a teammate, a… funny how many things we can be, huh.

When death takes someone away, that is it. It hurts for those who stay, but not anymore for the person — if they actually had time to feel.

Despair may strike us — whether it is for a second or for the rest of our lives — , and, for a while, it seems like there’s no way to move on.

If we want to keep at least a little bit of our sanity and dignity, we may have to force ourselves; trying to keep good memories, or to remember the last time we spoke and had a good time… those seem like the best options. If it’s possible, I mean.

I talked to him on his birthday, and, even though I couldn’t make it to the party that was probably going on, I naturally (?!) thought I would still be able to see him.

Yet, exactly one month after, he left us. And I only understood that when I remembered when we last met; dinner and laughs, and now sobs. What a… shock.

At 3pm, that was it; the other faces on the tomb moved me, for different reasons. I wonder when I’ll (have to go there and) see his again.

He won’t come back; none of them will.

He will me missed by many.

I died a little (more) as well.

* * *

He traveled shortly after he forcedly had lunch with us, on my birthday.

And he only came back, also forcedly, after he realized things were too serious for still having hope (and I don’t mean just for that death).

I exploded; I was exhausted, after spending the whole night there, and after all his lies. Shortly after the funeral he traveled again.

I don’t remember when was the last time we have actually spoken or had a good time. There’s nothing to hold on to anymore.

And there’s no comeback from this as well.

Who will actually miss him?! I won’t; not anymore.

I died a lot as well.

* * *

“(…) I will ask you for mercy
I will come to you blind
What you’ll see is the worst me
Not the last of my kind

Oooo—o—oh
In the muddy water we’re falling
Oooo—o—oh
In the muddy water we’re crawling
Holds me down
Hold me now
Sold me out
In the muddy waters we’re falling…”

Dear Future Me 5

So, I have received this today. But, this time, I already knew it was on its way; I remembered it would come today.

It’s always interesting to see what happened one year ago, and how things have or haven’t changed.

It’s nice to see how some problems aren’t as big as they were back then — but it’s also sad to see how some things are still the same.

I’m glad I sent myself this video as well; it was something I definitely needed to watch again.

At the end of the day, it seems like I’ve kept walking, despite everything and everyone. That’s good. Maybe next year I’ll have even better things to say…

…and may hope live on.

* * *

Dear Future Me,

apparently this task gets harder each year. Time should bring me maturity, and — at least in theory — this should make things easier. Turns out it doesn’t.

I’m learning much, undoubtfully. I’m growing daily, frequently gathering more information and experiences. Yet, some things still hurt me a lot.
When I think I’m jaded and numb enough, there comes a blow that stings like a bitch. I duck and dodge, and some hits miss me; I’m not invincible, though. I still get cut.

Things changed a lot at work, to the point it became impossible to continue working where I was (after being transferred. Argh…). So I finally left.
Right now the school is still giving me a lot of headache, but hopefully these will be the last ones.

I’ve been humiliated more times than I could count, and, even though it has hurt like crazy, I can now foresee some things, and this helps me to protect myself better. But it has also made me more suspicious, which is really sad. Well, life as a whole has done me that.

Every time I stop to think about time I get a little depressed, ‘cause I know I’m getting chronologically older but I constantly feel like I’m getting nowhere.
I’m almost 25 now. Fuuuuuck… What did I do? Where have I gone?
Something that gets clearer and clearer, however, is: this is not where I belong.

Things didn’t work out with the guy I had just met a year ago. Maybe I was too intense (probably); I guess I got my hopes up too fast.
Maybe he was not into me.
Maybe he was not ready.
Maybe it just wasn’t “meant to be”.

I made a friend a few days after that. We talk frequently, and sometimes we go out. This has been a real relief.
Having him and my former boss/friend in my life is what, at times, made loads of stuff more bearable.

But I still feel really lonely and lost. Misunderstood. Misplaced. Broken.
I still miss things and people. Like him and better times.

Things have gone downhill with my parents again. And my sister is about to travel. I’ll finally be all alone — and I don’t mean this in a good way.
This last weekend I have come to the conclusion that I should really cut these ties. This was sad, but it was as if I could step back and see things clearer.

I keep on going to therapy, and this has been great to me. I still have my plans, to go back to school and find a new path in life.
I’m really worn out right now, but maybe this is the dawn of a better future (fingers crossed!).

I need to keep going, but, more importantly, I need to move on.

Hey: stay strong.

* Brazil has lost the Cup (hahahaha), Dilma won the elections (yeah, I voted for her and haven’t regret it yet — even though the crisis has really hit the country), everyone is really broke (including me =/ ), violence and religious intolerance have reached scary levels, but this whole context has been helping me to grow a lot regarding my personal beliefs.
I’ve been really demotivated to write, but it has helped a lot since the last year.

Gimme back my bullets

 

Lately I’ve been trying real hard to focus on the good side of things, and on how much I have grown and learned with my past and present experiences. However, on some days, this exercise seems to be too hard and lonely.

For the past 24 hours — especially after going through some draft e-mails which were never sent, and revisiting all sorts of old memories — I’ve been thinking of all I’ve lost…

… and one of those things was the chance of being tread on.

Things aren’t great, all and all. But life and some people never cease to amaze me from time to time.

* * *

“Life is so strange when its changin’, yes indeed
Well I’ve seen the hard times and the pressure’s been on me
But I keep on workin’ like the workin’ man do
And I’ve got my act together, gonna walk all over you

Gimme back my bullets
Put ‘em back where they belong
Ain’t foolin’ around ‘cause I done had my fun
Ain’t gonna see no more damage done
Gimme back my bullets

(..)
But I’m leavin’ this game one step ahead of you
And you will not hear me cry ‘cause I do not sing the blues

Gimme back, gimme back my bullets
Oh, put ‘em back…where they belong…”

 

Dear future me 4

Another one of those has arrived today. Funny how things go. “Funnier” how some things change while others seem to remain just the same.

It’s nice to actually see that I have moved on from then up to now — even if it was just for a couple of inches.

Perhaps I’ll finally get the courage to do some of the things which I’ve been “postponing” — or, maybe and at least, cutting some knots that still tie me to the ground.

I wonder, however, for how long I’ll still be writing about some topics (which will still be on the letter I’ll write today).

One day at a time, I guess; I just gotta keep on living this A.A. life.

 

November 16th, 2014

Dear Future Me,

I had completely forgotten about this letter.
I was impressed with how brief I was, since I tend to be much more ‘prolix’ than that.

Well, let us see: things have been fucked up, I guess.

Among lots of problems at the new school, I think I am (despite suffering and being so stressed and sick), finally, making some decisions.
I have good chances of going back to school*, and I’m proud to say this is due to my own work.
If that happens, I think a lot will change drastically — and I’m cool with that. I kinda hope for that, actually.

I’m still really lost; I don’t know who I am, and I don’t know who I wanna be. I don’t even know if I wanna “be” at all.
But here I am, still trying, ‘cause I know that’s all I got left.

I have, at last, seen many people’s true colors, and I’m yet figuring out how to deal with that: I have been learning that I’m my first priority.

Therapy continues, and, even though it’s hard sometimes, I’m grateful for the learning process.

I have written a lot this year, and that’s just great. Also, due to that, I have met some people. Nice people, by the way.

And writing has helped me to put things in order in my mind, and has helped me to deal with many feelings (including pain, anger, and how much I still — ugh — miss him. I hope he’s okay, though, and I hope I’ll be fine as well).

That seems to be it… I really expect all is way better next year.

*I’m afraid of seeing him, her… them. But this is MY goal, and they won’t “scare” me anymore.

Prayer

Sunday, November 8th, 1:05am

Forgive me if I’m not good at it, but tonight I pray for the first time in years.

I pray for you to be kind — towards me and others.

And I hope you can help me to wind down my troubled, restless mind and soothe my chaotic soul.

I wish you can help me to understand and deal with the fact that some things and people are already far in the past — and, even though I miss them so dearly, if they are there, this is, most likely, where they should really be. Help me to control the impulses to constantly look back — but, when I do, may I see the beauty in them (not the rotten, nor the pain).

I also wish you can help me to enjoy the good moments and my achievements, since, regardless of how bad and miserable I can feel about myself/the person I am, I’m actually doing a lot — specially for others. May I be proud of myself for a change.

Perhaps you can increasingly help me to love myself; this way, maybe, all the ghosts, the self-loathing and the shadows that hinder my sight will go away.

I know I shouldn’t burden you like that (and for that I apologize); I don’t even know if I have all this faith (and I’m deeply sorry about that as well). But you are all that I’ve got.

And having you is probably all that I (should) need.

I can’t wait to meet you, and I hope to see you soon, future self.

Amen.

Rotten

The kitchen counter has a reasonable size. It is beautiful, made from granite with mica, and rosy feldspar and quartz.

I know about the names because I still vaguely remember the Basic Geology subject I had during the university. It was almost a subject “for dummies”, but I learned a lot. Up to the point I actually thought about getting a post-graduation in Geology.

At that time I enjoyed more what I was doing, I think–or, maybe, I was simply more alienated and innocent.

Anyways… the counter is nice. The sink is right in the middle, and underneath all of it there is a relatively big cabinet, made to fit the exact proportions of the kitchen. Some time ago the part in the back of the structure had to be replaced; on the outside everything looked fine but, below it, the wood was rotting due to the humidity. So, before it fell apart (a miracle, taking into account the domestic dynamic underdeveloped within the walls of my house), the replacement happened.

However, it was not well done, and, as a consequence, the counter is now uneven; ever since it accumulates more water on the right side.  Which means that, unless someone “pushes” the water into the sink, it will just stay there, still and exposed, drenching everything that stays over the counter. It is basically impossible to leave anything on it, except if you want to run the risk of letting it slowly (or not, depending on how much water is there) be ruined.

Nonetheless it is, indeed, a beautiful counter. It makes a good impression–even if it hides the imperfect, faulty structure, and even if it that may, one day, give us more trouble. The problem seems to be quite simple to solve, actually, though it may be, possibly, laborious.

But who will bother?!

Meanwhile we push the rests and the water down the drain, dry the surface and hope everything will be okay.