I refuse to be angry.

Don’t get me wrong, I am no Ned Flanders.


But I still want to reserve myself the right to refuse to be too angry from now on. And I don’t mean hating the door nob when I bang my elbow against it.  I mean feeling what I felt a couple weeks ago – Read here.

Going to bed and waking up STILL angry was such a terrible experience! I could feel it changing my body. It made my stomach hurt, my mind was blurred and everything was bitter. I didn’t eat at all and my girl’s tummies were *funny* (if you know what I mean). They were nervous too. They felt it.

I hated it.

It got me wondering HOW CAN SOME PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS CONSTANTLY? How can someone just handle so much hate? Doesn’t your body react to that? I mean, don’t you eventually DIE from anger?

Actually, yes, you do. Just like the Monks don’t get cancer or Alzheimer’s or heart attacks – read here – , angry people make themselves sick. (Well, not that ANGER is the cause of these nasty things 100% of the time, duh. But there IS a real percentage of cases attributed to it.)

I am not surprised at all. It was a terrible, terrible feeling… no wonder your body gets exhausted trying to keep it going. I only felt it for a day and I was crawling.

So, there you have it. All you fucking assholes can just go on being assholes and I’ll try my best to replying with a “well… fuck it.”.

You won’t stop annoying me… but letting you go feels so much better than being angry at you that I’ll go with that.

Let’s all enjoy the last weekend of Summer instead.

my girls

That time I realized I was not the problem.

I think every religion has something beautiful to offer and I love learning about them. I was raised Catholic yet, I feel like Spiritism has always given me great an answer to every single complicated religious question I’ve ever asked. Still, as I grew up and learned about myself, I realized I was happiest when mediating and learning about Buddhism.

When you meditate it looks like you are doing nothing… but you are doing everything.

There’s a chance I am actually fascinated by the idea of being high all the time. You know, watching the flowers grow or “the puddles gather rain”, but I wanna believe it’s actually about finding answers.

I wish I could do that. Learn more about myself, this life and our spirits. But, how could I? Really, I am just a slave.

No matter how blue the sky is in the morning and how much I wanna absorb that moment, I’ll just run out of the house, put some make up on the car and sit at the office for 8 hours.

I don’t wanna sit at the office. I wanna breathe. Deeply. I wanna feel the wind and maybe even feel the Earth spin.

I’ll design boats instead.

It’s not my choice.

The fact that I don’t get to chose makes me nervous, keeps me up at night. It’s hard to wake up, so I won’t pack my lunch ’cause I’m late. I’ll just eat something terrible, pricey and grease at work.

I don’t wanna eat that. It’s gonna make me sick. I wanna eat something that doesn’t hurt my stomach. But I was too exhausted to make it and now I am too hungry to not eat.

I go home and I am thinking I really, really wanna go for a walk. Ride my bike. Roller skate. But my legs are bruised and swollen from sitting down all day and eating crap. It hurts to stand up.

I make the girls some dinner instead. They don’t like it. I make something else. They just want tuna. I don’t wanna give them tuna again ’cause they had it yesterday. Fuck it, have some tuna but you are NOT having tuna tomorrow.

I give them a bath, get on the tub with them hoping my legs will hurt a little less. They still hurt.

So, that makes me sad. Shaky. My heart in racing and  can’t put my finger on what’s wrong ’cause you see… there’s really nothing wrong other than the way this society forces me to function. I realize that I am lucky and I realize that we are fine. But I wanted more. I wanna be able to enjoy life and not just work-sleep-repeat.

I think society is making everyone sick and I don’t wanna be another number in those stats.

And that’s what got me thinking about religion. I figured, if society really did make us sick then the Monks, who are not a slave of this system just basically wouldn’t get sick. Right?

Yes, right. Absolutely right, actually. I googled it. They don’t get sick. We do.

Finding that out was pretty amazing for me, the paranoid hypochondriac. It gave me some peace of mind… like… there’s a small chance we are actually in control. There’s a chance the answers to everything that is making us sick in this world are already out there and it is possible to live a more fulfilling life just by slowing down.

Unfortunately, we’ll always need money. Therefore we’ll always succumb to the system.

But slowing down is a start.

Let’s start from there, then.

Anger (is for fools)

Yesterday I was angry. Still, indecisive like I am, I just couldn’t decide whether or not it was worth it to put people in their places with my words or not.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a lot to say! But something inside me kept me from saying it. I needed to think about it first.

Yes, I am surprisingly mature.

Would they reflect on what I had to say? Most likely not.

Would they change? Definitely not.

So, what was the point, really? To proof that I was superior? To make me feel good? Well, I figured there were other ways of doing that, which didn’t require that much energy.

Fighting (arguing) can be pretty time-consuming and low-level. I personally don’t like it and I don’t do it unless I absolutely have to AND there’s actually a purpose to it. Like, it will solve the conflict or lead to some sort of conclusion.


First, I chose to just allow myself be angry.

Then, I talked to my husband (my mom, my boss & my best friend- haha) about it. I let it all out and discussed with them if my anger was unfunded or not.

It was not.

Then, we watched a nice little movie I love… ’cause… well, it was finally on netflix and you can’t say “no” to 16 candles (if you can, you are a very weird person)

16 candles

The movie helped, but a while later, I was still upset.

At one point, I realized that I was upset for letting people get to me. It made me feel immature at some level. It made me feel quite stupid, actually.

Apparently, even the Bible agrees that only the stupid get angry, so I was on the right track:


At least I think that’s from the Bible. Right?

Then I googled “What would Jesus do”. – for real – I really, really did that –  it wasn’t helpful AT ALL and I decided to actually create that website myself… ’cause that was just freaking genius!

Since googling “Jesus” didn’t help, as a last resort, I called my dad – who I have really been missing right now – and he laughed! He reminded me that we are the people that matter and that outsiders should not have the power to interfere with our lives.

My dad just calmed me down. And he did something important: He reminded me that the focus of my life now was my children. So, I should really not give a fuck about how this makes me feel and I should focus on “how is this affecting them?”.

As a mother, it is my responsibility to make sure I set the example for my children and I keep the bad examples away from them. I do not want to bring them up in an environment where people have completely different values than mine and whose attitudes towards life I consider immature, disrespectful and unhealthy.

I also believe that the people who genuinely care about my children will always put them first, like I will; like I see my husband and my parents doing. I mean, my husband sacrificed his career; people mock him for being a stay-home-dad but he chose that because he can see how important the time he is spending with our children is! He is a GREAT parent!

So, because of that, I tried work things out with these people, for they were also a part of their lives.

I called. 3 times.

No one picked up the phone.

I texted.

All I got were rude immature answers back.

Wait… what?

My children are only 3 years old and I am happy this happened now, when they are young enough not to understand what was going on. They are very loving and caring. They never fight. We will never hit them. We hug and kiss them so much they hug and kiss each other all the time. If you can’t behave nicely in front of my children, I will most likely cut you off, pal.


So, there you had it! This was not the kind of attitude I would tolerate around my children. I do not want them to grow up in a nasty environment and I most certainly do not want to see them acting like that when they grow up. 

Unfortunately, to keep your immediate family values alive, sometimes I’ll need to cut some people off, for they will never change.


I’ll give them time and space to grow up and mature so they can be allowed around my family again for it is my job to make sure my girls will have all the reasons in the world to keep that big smile on their faces. I know life is cruel  and they’ll figure that out by themselves soon enough. NOT at the age of 3 and NOT coming from the people who were supposed to protect them.

Not all souls have light. Some of them are still learning but it’s just something they’ll have to learn by themselves and NOT at the cost of my well-being.

Sorry, I can’t fix you. Not my job.

Late-late movie night, tonight!

Done panicking and wishing

When I started this blog I called it “I am not always panicking“. Because I really wasn’t. I enjoyed those 5 minutes between one panic attack and the next.

Later, I learned how to control them.

We moved to Canada and, all our wishes were about to come true. The snow would fall outside as the Christmas lights would reflect on our window.

The snow I had wished for for so long was now a part of my life. A very permanent part, may I add.

But at one point, the wishing was over too.

When this summer came I realized how the rain made me feel. I am not sure it was the colors, the smell or the memories it brought back. It was just a feeling.

One of the wettest summer in the history of Ottawa made me realize something inside me was changing. Drop after drop, my heart became full. I was experiencing this weird new feeling, … this… happiness.

I was done panicking, done wishing. I was about to find my place in this country. I was heading home.

To me, home is a place where you can settle. A place so warm and comfortable you feel relaxed enough to “watch the puddles gather rain“. When you get there, you don’t look forward for the future and you don’t worry… you just enjoy every moment.

So, here’s where I find myself right now. I am happier when it rains. And here’s where you’ll find me for now.

I will dare to use the word “happy” on my blog’s title. I’ll be terrified of jinxing life, but I need to allow myself to knowledge that I am, in fact, happy.  And hopefully, in a while, I will be adding the word “home” to it.

Sorry about the mess,



Me, on prozac

Today is Thursday. Lunch break. There are a lot of things on my mind, but none of them are scary.

At 12:27pm I do not think anything bad is about to happen, like I did a few weeks ago. I am not alert. In fact, I think those thoughts were silly and highly unlikely. And, even though everything that scared me before is kind of still here… I just don’t worry about it that much.

For instance, yes, there is a weird lesion on my back. Whatever, I’ll just remove it. If it’s cancer, I’ll just cure it. Rationally, it’s been there forever and it’s not changing that fast so… it’s probably soon enough. The end.

I guess this is how normal people feel all the time. Me? This is how I feel on prozac.

It bothers me that I can’t reach this state of mind on my own. I mean, isn’t this version of me inside my brain somewhere? Is this the pills talking? Can’t I just live life as if I was permanently stoned? It sounds rather fun.

So, why don’t I just take the fucking pills and get happy all the time, you might wonder.

Well, because the side effects are brutal. It’s killing my immune system and that’s NOT something you aim for in life.

So, there you go. Stuck between the decision of being afraid of being sick when you’re actually healthy or making yourself sick so you won’t be afraid.

Tough one, guys.

Though one.

A year in the life

A lot’s happened last year. Not to me, though. Still, I sat here and observed as my friend’s lives collapsed.

I panicked.

It took me a long time to realize we were ok, because the things I watched happening around me made me terrified of life. It was like a big fire and I could not predict the wind… I couldn’t tell whether the flames would hit my lands or not.

I wanted to protect me and my family and I didn’t know where to start.

I didn’t know what had killed Stella in a week. I didn’t know why my cousin’s baby had been born with microcephaly … I didn’t know why my friend’s baby had cancer.

I researched and researched.

I was so scared of not finding any answers. So afraid of that fire.

Amongst all things that involved science, religion and the unpredictable there was always one common denominator: happiness.

It’s not that bad things are not going to happen to you if you are happy. But there’s actually a chance some of them can be prevented by it.

Is that the gratitude thing everyone talks about? – I wondered.

And so, the year went by.

Stella came to me in a dream, which brought peace to my heart.

My cousin is pregnant again and her little boy just turned one. He is responding fine to treatment.

My friend’s baby is cured.

So, last weekend, I set on the floor, watched cartoons with my girls and gave up the medicine I had been taking for 10 days.

I realized I didn’t have an unbalanced brain that could be fixed by a pill. I actually had been through a lot last year and I needed the time to process all that. In fact, I would probably need a pill if those things HADN’T affected me!

But most of all, I realized we were fine. Not threaten by life. Just fine. And, as I walked to the parking lot to grab something from the car, I took a deep breath. At that moment I was transported right back to a day at the beach when I was 12…

No worries, just happiness. Because we are all allowed.

Many years from now

Sometimes I wanna fast forward life.

It’s not that I don’t wanna enjoy those precious moments yet to come. Their first day of school, putting up the Christmas tree every year, riding our bikes together as a family, while we are still young enough to do it, or the fact that we still have a long way to go before my babies move out  of our house.

The reason why, sometimes, I wanna be in my 70’s is because, by then, I’ll have a different kind of peace.

When I’m 70, my girls will be 40. I know they’ll no longer depend on me. I will not worry about my girls growing up without a mother every-fucking-time there’s a disease outbreak of some sort.

When I’m 70, I’ll know that we’ve made it. I’ll know that we’ve had the most amazing, incredible life and that every single time I felt threatened that someone or something could’ve teared us apart, it was just a false alarm.

I might be able to sleep when I’m 70.

And, yes, I’ll worry about my 40 year old babies just as much as I do now and I’ll be sad at the thought of leaving them… but hopefully I’ll be mostly grateful and I won’t be afraid.