Gossip trauma

After many days feeling blue, I now start to feel better. Staying a couple of days at my grandma’s house really helped me – and it also brought me memories of a kind of “trauma” I used to had and from which I took a long time to detach: the gossip trauma.

Although I have only one brother, I come from a really big family: I have many uncles, aunts, cousins and cousins that have their own kids. My big family likes to get together to parties and celebrates even when there’s nothing to celebrate – they just like to reunite.

This habit has a good side, of course: if we are bothered and wanna hear some noise and chat and meet people we like, there’s always something appointed.

But, there’s a problem: in my family, there are some really mean people, who appear to reunite with others just to have dirt gossip to spread later. You didn’t read it wrong: there are relatives that just want to stab everyone else behind their backs.

Growing up in this environment made me believe that it was normal when people make mean comments or gossip on me – well, I was a very insecure girl and I used to be passive about this bullying situation.

I used to feel very sad about the gossip and I even had many fights with my mom when she wanted me to go to some party and I didn’t wanted to. Nowadays, I understand that the central point of the fight was: my mom doesn’t give a fuck to what mean people say and I couldn’t express properly how I felt and make her understand how much it hurt me going to a place and being on the company of people who would dish about me as soon as I left – independently of what I had said or done.

I grow up with a strong belief that it doesn’t matter what I do, people will always be mean and will always gossip. And only recently I changed this belief.

After I moved from my mom’s house to another city and got to college, I started to understand that mean people are everywhere, as well as good people. It was the first step for me to get the courage to act spontaneously, without the recurrent concern “what are they going to say about me?”. And I learned that there are people who are interested on chatting, have a good time and knowing each other – just that, without any cruel intention.

I must say that nowadays I feel much more comfortable abut having a social life and it is a marvelous relief to get rid of my past days sad thought “no matter what I do, I will always be a punching bag “.

The trauma that gossip brought to my life taught me three thing:

(1) mean people are mean people. Period. And the best attitude is staying away from them – and if it’s not possible, talk just the strictly necessary.

(2) Never waste my time thinking about other’s life. I don’t like to hear gossip or stories about other people’s life. It’s immoral. Other’s life should occupy my time just for as long as I’m on the company of the person. If I have to help a friend, it won’t be talking about him when he’s gone, but talking to him when he asks for an advice.

(3) Some people don’t like me, but there are many others who like me and are sincere. We can not please everyone, but it’s not necessary… I know I just have to worry about those who love me and who I love back. That’s it. Life is too short.

I’m not ashamed of my sadness

So, it has been a couple of days since my last post, the one about my sad illness that is going to keep away from my beloved and long-time friend Violin.

I have already cried one hundred rivers and I’m pretty sure I’m still going to cry a lot more.

For some, this might sound coward, but not for me: at this point of my life (on the contrary of other times), I just don’t feel like hiding my pain and I don’t feel any shame on admitting that things are not as I wished they were.

I know that there are many other issues in human life and many people who suffer from worse problems than mine, but I’m not going to use this fact to swallow my tears and silent my pain ’cause I wouldn’t be true to myself if I did that and it’s not my intention in any case to lie to myself right now.

I believe that in my life I have some disillusions that are not worth of my tears and that should not be material for any concern or waste of time. And, on these particular cases, I do apply the “mantra” there are worse pains than this pain, so take a deep breath and move on.

The situation I’m living right now doesn’t fit the “forget it and move on” case. For me, not being able anymore to play my Violin isn’t a small problem, it is actually a huge one and I’m just not going to pretend it isn’t because I have already suffered a lot on other times of my life for pretending that I didn’t care about something that I actually cared a lot.

I’m seeking a healthier relation with myself and I do believe that admitting any of my feelings (either happy or sad ones) is a very important step to feel good about the person I am – and not the person I once thought I should be.

I’m sad, I feel things are out of place and I’m not ashamed of not being miss perfection living the perfect life, because I know that in this moment there’s no reason for me to be.

A feeling I can’t name

Existence has been a little bit harder these days. I haven’t blog the last couple of days because I have been feeling sad and disappointed.

The good (????) side of the situation is that I have a story to tell.

Since I was a child, I study music.

I started singing at a church choir (now, I don’t go to church anymore, my mom used to take when I was a kid). Then, the theory classes came as well as Violin classes.

I was really in love with my Violin and I used to study a lot. So,  I spent the end of my childhood, all my teen years and the beginning of my 20′s (which is now) playing passionately.

Last  year, I was feeling a very weird sensation, like my fingers weren’t obeying me, I started feel some pain and I suddenly didn’t have the agility I had once.

In October, I went to see a doctor, a very well know doctor, recommended by other patients. He heard what I had to tell, examined me, asked a couple of tests and answered all my questions.

Two weeks later, with the tests results I went to see him again. His face while seeing the results wasn’t exactly really pleasant. He told me everything the results could mean, prescribed some drugs and physiotherapy.

Also, he told me: NO PLAYING until the physiotherapy sections are over and I examine you again.

It was a total shock to me, I passed many days crying my misfortune. But I took the drugs and went to all physiotherapy sections.

I went back to the doctor in November, remade the tests. No improvement. More drugs and more physiotherapy.

I went back in December. The same.

I went back in January. The same.

I went back today. Not the same. The worsened edition.

The doctor don’t believe I will ever play again, ’cause my problem is very complicated. I have a damage on two nerves, both my left and right arms. And the damage won’t heal… they can stop getting worse, but there’s no turning back.

I thought about visiting another doctor, but I don’t think that will solve anything. The one I’m seeing is really good and I know other patients who where treated by him. I guess my problem is actually serious and jumping from one clinic to another would just make me more desperate.

I feel really lonely right now, like I’ve lost a very important relative, because that is what my Violin is: my closest relative, almost a piece of me. And I’m just losing him to a health issue that can’t be healed.

I know I will always have pretty memories to take with me and I know there are people who have much worse problems that mine… But, right now, I don’t have  any condition to think about it, I will certainly spend many days (weeks? months? years?) feeling this lost.

Since my diagnostic, I feel some anger, like WHY ME?

And when I hear other people playing, I ask why can’t I be as healthy as they are. I recently went to see a Russian Orchestra and I looked at all those musicians on the stage and thought: don’t any of you have problems? How come I’m the only one who has?

I just think life isn’t being fair right now and I’m finding my existence really tough.

 

A picture of happier days…

Trivial organization for more than trivial reasons

I’m a very very organized person and I have a couple of reasons to be (and continue being) this ways.

The first reason is trivial: taste. I like organized spaces, I feel really bad when I’m in a disordered, messy room, I have a bad impression, like I’m in a abandoned haunted place.

Besides, I like to know where my stuff is, I like to know that every single thing has its own place and it’s placed there. I like the sensation of knowing what I have, the feeling that I have control over my material stuff and my agenda, knowing what I have to do and where I have to go.

I think my commitments than in any way depend on other people are already a source of insecurity and preoccupation, so, I find it useful to have at least my part guaranteed by an organized appointment book.

The second reason is also trivial: time. I think that being organized saves my time. I don’t have to worry about searching for my stuff around the house and I don’t have to worry about my deadlines, it’s easy to find some extra time here and there to do the things I love.

I ‘m addicted in operas, movies and books, and I need time to dedicated to the activities that give me pleasure (an opera has around 3 hours or more, a movie has around 2 hours, and books don’t use to be slim).

The third reason isn’t trivial (at least I don’t think): fear. Not any kind of fear, it’s fear of dying and provide an unwanted job for my family. I just feel afraid of dying and leaving behind a mess that they won’t know what to do about.

I’m young, and although I have some health issues (like sinusitis and some allergies), I expect to live for some more decades. It’s not like I’m foreseeing my death or anything like it, I just like to be a prevented person. Like I said above, the things that don’t depend exclusively on me do already bring insecurities, so, I try at least to guaranteed what depends on me.

I don’t see myself dying now, but I know it can happen and I do feel worried about my family ’cause I know they love me as much I love them and I know they would feel very sad if I die at such a young age. That’s one really good reason to leave my things always organized: I don’t want to give them an extra concern , I don’t want them to have to worry about what to do with a amount of mess if I leave. If they want to keep any of my stuff in case I die, I want it to be easy to be find and in conditions to be kept as a memory of me. And if they decide to donate my stuff to those who need and will use it, I want it to be well maintained and in conditions to be found and separated easily.

I must confess, I do many things in my life not only for the moment I’m living, but for the chances that this moment has to end – because life can change at an eye-blink.

Faint queen!

I have a couple of health problems, nothing really serious, just as much to remember me I have to take good care of myself.

Today, I had to take blood samples to some tests and, what a news!, I fainted. I faint every time I have to take blood tests (and for other some reasons, like cutting my finger with a knife or without any reason, haha), but today I played a ridiculous part: I FAINTED EVEN BEFORE GET PUNCTURED!

Yep, the nurse was looking my arm to find a vein (my veins are very thin and discrete) and I passed totally out. I “woke up” several minutes later, after everything was already done.

I feel kind of embarrassed because I have almost 10 piercings and I never pass out to get pierced. I don’t pass out to make “ugly” things (get pierced) but I faint to take a little blood to get a tests that is very important to my health and welfare… Can anybody understand that? ‘Cause I can’t!

Graduation and mistrust

Since I started blogging here, yesterday was the first day I didn’t write. I had a very special reason: yesterday was my class’ graduation celebration.

I feel really happy for surviving Philosophy course but I’m sure not done yet, I’m going to study to have a Master and, later, a Doctor degree. My classes will return on March, so I still have more than a whole month to feel a bit disoriented.

When I’m on vacations (and at this moment I consider myself on that situation), I study everyday, just like when I’m having classes. I really love studying, it’s not boring or a sacrifice, I enjoy it. But studying on vacations is, for me, like walking on thin ice, I always feel like I don’t have anything to hang on.

I tend to consider always the hypothesis of a last-minute radical change. I don’t say I deal well with this kind of situation, I just say I like to keep in mind that things can go wrong at anytime. It’s not pessimism, is just prudence.

The reflection this habit has on my vacations and studies is that I don’t believe I’m actually a student util classes start. Even though I’m registered, I kind of doubt that I’m registered and I’m actually going to study on that institution until the first days of classes.

And then, when my family or friends ask me what I’m doing for the semester that’s beginning, I always feel embarrassed to answer ’cause I’m always counting on the possibility of a negative change.

It’s not that I think I’m going to screw everything up, ’cause I’m responsible and I do trust myself when it comes to accomplish my commitments and obligations. The thing is that I don’t trust institutions and other people! I think they can disappoint me anytime and leave me empty-handed.

So, I’m registered at a good university in order to continue my Philosophy studies, but, until the day I see the teacher setting the date for the tests, I’ll just consider that I may be going to be officially a  student.

Until then, I’ll just consider myself a home student. It’s safer, the less you trust, the less you get disappointed.

My Rainy Friday (pt.3): Alain Resnais

So, today I’m finally finishing my comments on those three great movies that made me company on my rainy Friday. I would like to observe that it also rained on Saturday and Sunday and, probably, it will rain today; on the rainy Saturday I read a lot, so I had time only to watch one movie Lost in Translation, by Sofia Coppola; on the rainy Sunday, I had more time available , so I watched both Mamá Cumple 100 Años, by Carlos Saura and The Lady Vanishes, by Alfred Hitchcock. About these three other titles, I won’t write, and I have a good reason for it: the thing is, if I start writing about every movie I watch, this is going to become a only cinema blog… I’m a really “movie person”, sometimes, I watch 20 movies in a week…

 

Contains Spoilers!

Hiroshima, Mon Amour, by Alain Resnais is a French classic. It tells us the story of two married people, who live a brief love adventure. She is a French actress, filming in Hiroshima, he is a Japanese architect. Both are marked by the war: hi lost his family in Hiroshima’s hecatomb, she loved a German soldier in nazi-occupied France. After spending one night together, she tells him her story: at the age of 18, she fell deeply in love with an enemy soldier and intended to run away from France with him; on the day set for the escape, he got killed; she was then confined and treated as insane by her family. It happened 14 years before this brief love adventure in Japan.

This movie brings a touching combination of love and death, in a poetical torture. We see both happiness and wrecking in scenes and words in France and in Japan. She and him have experienced differently the war, but this different experiences are the exact reason of their identification. The shock of losing a dear person makes them equals.

This Resnais’ great piece of art, from 1959, offers the spectator the opportunity to an immersion in a dimension where past and present, France and Japan, are confused and mixed. It’s a tough movie, far away from entertainment, but certainly one of the most artistic I’ve ever seen. I highly recommend for all art lovers.

 

She (actress Emmanuelle Riva) and He (actor Eiji Okada)