First things first: how awesome are you, guys? I was feeling a bit down last night and you cheered me up so much… Thank you! It’s like having a huge new bunch of friends. I love this blogging family. Here’s what I was inspired to write on the backseat of my father’s car (I had the smart idea of buying an 2015 organizer big enough to contain my emergency writings and I carry it with me everywhere), coming home from a worthless afternoon of shopping-for-a-jacket-that-of-course-I-did-not-find — Gosh how I hate shopping for clothes!!!
Just when I think I can’t know him any better, that’s when my boyfriend surprises me the most. And I’m pretty good at surprising myself, too. After writing my post last night, I apologized to my ego and told it I needed to put my boyfriend first. It was a hard discussion, but in the end it understood (first surprise). I then texted my boyfriend, we had a talk on Skype, I got mad again… but I didn’t need to wait more than five minutes for him to understand me and send me a message that made me feel better (second surprise; my boyfriend is actually pretty awesome, I must say, I don’t know why I still get surprised… I guess I try to keep my expectations low out of fear of disappointment…?).
However, today I have been having the feeling I’m in a perfect balance between anger and sadness, and it feels wonderful. Let me explain.
Since forever, I have never really allowed myself to feel sad or angry, because I was scared of these two emotions. If I was sad, I was afraid of letting myself fall in the deep whirl of depression and of never being able to get out of it. I thought it was wrong to feel that. Even my mom has always told me to react, whenever I felt sad – she probably just didn’t want to see me sad, but somehow that’s what my brain got out of it. If I was angry, I didn’t want to be angry because I didn’t want to be a negative person, always complaining and yelling and making other people feel bad. I was probably afraid of growing up to be the copy of somebody I knew.
At some point, four years ago, some things happened, my beloved Grandpa got sick, and I didn’t allow myself to be sad, and I didn’t allow myself to be angry. He was sick for four months and a half, I saw him getting worse and worse, I was with him every day. In those four months and a half, I never cried. The panic attacks started in the second month – of course I didn’t know why. I didn’t even know what I had for a long time.
Now, four years after, thanks to a year of psychotherapy, I can feel the pain. I feel the sadness, because I miss my boyfriend, because my dad is angry at me and I don’t know why, because I am not as I wish I were… And I feel the anger, that gives me the energy and determination to keep on fighting to be accepted, by others and by myself, and to become the person I want to be. I can let myself fall into the sadness, and my anger lifts me up again, screaming and spitting fire.
I embrace the sadness and I embrace the anger, because they are part of me. I’ll go on holding them and petting them as long as they are here, inside of me. Only like this, when it’s time, they’ll go.