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,

Shell

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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.

“That” stage

This is how I pictured motherhood would be like: Me, right here, writing on this blog as the kids played around. You know, me doing my thing… them, doing their thing. As I remembered doing it when I was a child.

It sure took a while and the sleep deprivation nearly got me to the edge of my mental health (that’s actually a lie, I went far beyond the edge) but I think we are here.

We are at that stage where the kids wanna play with each other, even though they still want our attention.

At this point, we can actually take them for a ride. They won’t be screaming, trying to get  off the car seat, vomiting, driving us crazy…. and I won’t be sitting in the back with them.

We can also do fun stuff together like play games.

They no longer make me nervous that they might need to be breast fed at the same time or throw up at the same time. Be burped at the same time. God.

No wonder I’m traumatized. Even remembering it makes kinda shaky.

But now, we are at that stage where I actually have so much time for myself (like, a whole hour)  I barely know how to handle it. I am so used to taking short showers and running somewhere that I forgot (I absolutely forgot) how to relax.

It sounds like something fun to learn again, though.

I am happy we are at this stage today.

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People are so mean.

I like writing. I like talking to people. If I see something that I like, there’s a chance I”ll wanna talk about it, but I rarely ever do that, specially on social media.

So, this morning I randomly complemented a famous girl on Instagram. It’s stupid to talk to the people who’ll never acknowledge your existence, but I do it from time to time, whenever I’m in a good mood.

Because of that, some random woman was rude to me.

She could have been rude to anyone down the street and they’d just ignore her and keep going with their lives. But it was me and I felt like I was attacked.

People are so incredibly mean and they have no idea how they affect others by doing that. The fact that that woman criticized my compliment made me shiver.

I have panic disorder -so they say-. I hate conflict. She doesn’t know that. All she knows is that something was going wrong with her life and she decided to take it out on strangers on Instagram.

Now I am questioning everything. I’m not sure if I’m healthy anymore. I start thinking I have some kind of rare disease that’s gonna kill me in months because that’s the way my mind works whenever I see conflict and I can’t stop it.

And now I’ll suffer. For minutes, hours or even days. It’s hard to say.

I’ll suffer because those tiny words from someone I’ll never meet triggered something on my brain that I fight day and night not to trigger so I can have some peace.

But she doesn’t know that.

None of us know the ghosts the live inside other people’s heads, as we wake them up day after day.

Yes, I am over sensitive and most of the things that disturb me are only inside my head and not actually happening. But I still suffer from that, unfortunately.