Sweetheart, surviving is all we have to do (sometimes)

What they say – sometimes – it’s true.
Old patterns only make things worse.

Things have been intense and overwhelming lately.  Some good, some bad.  That’s not the point.
The point is: How many times do we have to hit the bottom?  Is survival enough?

Surviving is all we have to do sometimes sweetheart”  K told me this morning on the phone, when I finally allowed myself to cry out the truth inside.

I lost a gig that I wanted with all myself.  It broke me into pieces.

Well, to be honest, I though it was the gig – but when the painkiller shroud I covered myself with wore off, I realized it wasn’t really the gig; it was my need for something more than survival that broke me into pieces again – I wonder if I ever put the pieces back together in first place – but that’s all another story.

I silently signed a non-disclosure agreement with pain, or frustration, or disappointment, or emptiness (and not the emptiness my zen teacher talks about – I am way too far from that).

I decided I wouldn’t feel it.  And for just about the time to hit the ground I did not.

Why would I choose to feel the failure and the shame?  (You might argue with the concept and context of shame, but that’s how it felt, together with a million of other unwanted emotions)

It was almost noon, and my filthy hair smelled smoke from the night before – to be mild and spare you the unecessary details – I spent 80 dollars on a new bottle of Chanel just a few days ago and I let myself rotten in a sweaty bed? – I thought.
My bed sheets are cherry-silk, but it don’t count if they are crinkled with blood and guilt.  
They smell sin, another summer gone bad.  

It was almost noon when I decided to use my hands and write down the hurt, even if only on the keyboard of my broken BlackBerry – I knew he would feel it, I knew he wouldn’t judge.
He wouldn’t cuddle me either, but I didn’t need to be cuddled.
I needed truth.  He gave it to me.

It wasn’t pleasant, but it made me feel less alone.
I got up and poured myself some more coffee.

That’s when I called K on his new cell phone.

Now I just need to go back to surviving again, I guess.

I just hope it’s true that when you know nothing you are walking the right path.

But the bottom line is: if this post reaches just one of you out there in the eye of the storm, I truly want to believe what I’ve been told: nothing that happens is ever in vain.








“Everybody hurts, sometimes.”

4 comments

  1. nothing goes in vain at all…your words are always an eye opening …your from the roots you’ve seen reality in ur own eyes …of course ITS NOT IN VAIN !

  2. Non ho mai pensato o immaginato che dietro ad ogni avvenimento ci fosse un perché, che ogni cosa della vita avesse una motivazione. Tuttavia oggi, guardando la mia vita a ritroso devo ammettere che forse è così, quasi che la tua vita segua un grafico, una linea, un disegno che vivi senza rendertene conto, che segui vedendo solo la traccia alle tue spalle. E’ una strana sensazione, vorresti vedere la traccia davanti a te, la sogni, la immagini e, quando la raggiungi è sempre diversa da come l’avevi desiderata. Ma la condizione umana, immutabile e imprevedibile è questa, puoi solo viverla cercando di farlo nel migliore dei modi e illudendoti di essere tu a scegliere, a decidere la trama di un film in cui sei protagonista e di cui, in realtà, conosci solo il finale.

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