Today I touched myself
and thought of you
I closed my eyes
and imagined my hands were yours
and your lips where pressing against mine

I embraced myself
and imagined your arms around me
your hands on my back, on my thighs, inside me
I felt your smell, the warmth of your breath
I felt your skin on mine

You were inside me
I felt myself feeling you

Chemical Happiness

My “head doctor” told me that my depression was due to a chemical unbalance in my brain had that I would have to take medication to compensate that. At first I thought “he’s got to be kidding, medication??”. But I took them anyway. I noticed that the horrible panic attacks stopped and I felt much better. I though “ok, so it’s working”. I felt better than I had in years. I even thought how was it possible that I had endured the anxiety attacks for so long… when a small pill could have fixed it all.

It’s been about five months since I began taking these drugs. Now I’ve come to the point that I’m questioning whether or not I can do without them. The day before yesterday I forgot to take my night pill and my by the next day, right after lunch, I started to feel symptoms of withdrawal. I felt like crap, cold chills and anxiety. What the hell is goin on? Am I addicted to these things? The thought of being an addict made me feel anxious and sad. Did I make the right choice? Could there have been a better way out? Now I feel like I’m just another one of those domestic addicts. How different is it from being addicted to other drugs? Just the fact that it’s legal and you can get the drugs in any pharmacy?

All these emotional improvements I’ve been going through, I feel they aren’t real. This is not real happiness, it’s a chemical happiness that only coveres up the problem for while. How do I fix the problem that consumed me in the first place? Will it be back if I stop taking the meds? Is all I’m saying just the after effects from the medication? Am I lucid enough to talk straight?

Today I feel like I’m just going through the motions. I’m not in my full capacity to embrace all that life has in store for me. The ups and downs are a straight line which I can't distinguish sometimes. Emotions are blurred and I fell tired.

But I don't want to feel the way I felt before. I'm conscient that if it weren't for the meds, I'd be a worst off. Maybe I just shouldn't think so much.

Maybe it’s today.

If I had't...

When people ask me if I have any regrets about having done an abortion, I usually say that it was the right thing to do at the time. But it's a lie. I regret it to the deepest core of my heart and soul. I think about it all the time. I can't help wondering what color eyes he would have, how his hair would be, his smile, his laughfter. It drives me nuts sometimes. Whenever I see a pregnant woman, or a baby, I cry inside.

I didn't do the right thing. I knew it then, and I know it now. So what made me do it. Just fear I guess. I was a coward, and this will haunt me forever.

If I hadn't done it, I would have a year old child by now.

The dream

He came to her with a small piece of paper in his hand and said, "You see this paper? Here are the names of three women and yours is underlined. I made this test and the result says you are the one. There is no mistake ... it's you."

She looked at the piece of paper not believing it. Her name was there and it was underlined. This is not possible, what is happening? She thought. She looked up at him and suddenly felt an enormous desire to kiss him. She felt a shiver down her spine and her heart was beating like crazy. But she couldn't... she shouldn't. He was still gazing at her as if she were the only woman on earth. It was the most intense and passionate look she had ever felt upon her. She turned away to avoid his gaze, to try to understand what was happening. Why this man? I'm not in love with him... I have someone. Although she knew what was happening was impossible, she felt alive, she wanted him to hold his arms around her, even if only for a while. She had to understand why. And as if he had read her mind, suddenly she felt his arms around her. He held her face and whispered, "It's you... I know it's you..."

When she woke up, she could still feel his lips on hers and her heart beating fast. It had been a dream...but why? Why him?

Questions

Why can't people just have principles?
Why can't they just be honest?

Is this too much to ask for in the 21st century? I guess so.

My favorite uncle died

Yesterday was a sad day. I heard that a very dear uncle of mine had passed away, the morning after his birthday party. I was distraught. I liked him so much. I hadn’t seen him in ages, but the memories I have of him when I was a child are still with me like it was yesterday. He used to make us laugh with his jokes and stories…he had such patience for us. I used to think that man would live forever. He was always so alive and funny. And most of all, he was a great person and a great friend of my family’s.

Him and aunt Leia had this really nice house with a small patio in the middle, which had a tamarind tree (it’s a typical cape-verdean dry fruit). We used to climb that tree to get some tamarind and he would reprehend us, but not too severely. Then we’d have a big lunch and he would tell us all these funny stories. He had a contagious laugh and a wide smile. He was small and chubby and had a soft baldhead that we liked to tease with.

I can’t believe he’s gone. Uncle Tanche and Aunt Leia where the my family's best friends, I have no doubt about it.

But I’m sure he will remain in that house, looking after aunt Leia so she won’t feel so lonely. His favorite place was this room he used to lock so we wouldn’t go in. I’m sure that’s where I’ll find him when I go there.

See you soon uncle Tanche.

Friends

Yesterday I met with some childhood buddies that I hadn't seen in a while. It was the most fun I have had in a long while. The type of fun only possible when you meet old friends, real friends that know you like the palm of their hands even if we spend years without seeing each other. These are the friendships I prize; these are the friends I know I can truly count on.

I’m not an easy person to understand, I hold my thoughts in a very tight shell…but these people really know me. They see right through m eno matter what mask I try to wear. It’s such a relief! Not having to be nice if I don’t feel like it, not having to make up stories if I can’t show up, not having to be someone I’m not. It’s so exhausting sometimes.

But yesterday I took a break from that. I guess the few times I’m truly myself socially is when I’m when them. My childhood buddies, the ones I used to play with; the one I laughed cried and with. It feels like home.

I’m sorry that I rarely call or email. I should value these people more. I will never meet anyone else that I can relate to this well. I like to call them my amulet friends. They give me luck.
It will be a while until I see them again. But It’s ok. This time, I’ll be sure to stay in touch.

And to top it off

...Blogger is killing my patience today!

It's not functioning properly!

It's hot and I'm bored

Today I feel like time isn't going by. The hours seam endless here at the office. I'd trade my pinky finger for a day at the beach right about now. There is absolutely nothing to do! This country stops in August. It's a sin wasting time this way, I hate having nothing to do… that’s why I’m here scribbling nonsense. If I had a cent for each second of boredom I'm having today, I’d have a pretty good time at the end of the day with the money I'd make. But it isn’t. And killing time in an office where you hate being at times of slow workflow is a real bummer.

So, as long as there is no work to do (I’m really not earning my monthly pay check these days), I’ve been surfing the net.

I found this really interesting site called Unexplained Mysteries. It’s filled with mystical contents; it has all sorts of information, about ancient civilizations, paranormal phenomenon, ghost stories, extraterrestrial, spiritualities, myths, etc. From time to time I like to make an escape to unknown dimensions, especially when I’m this bored. It keeps me balanced.

Tears of grief and tears of happiness

Yesterday I was at the airport to fetch someone and had an uneasy experience. Anything that reminds you of death is uneasy. In the midst people who were joyfully greeting themselves as they were rejoined, there were two groups of people that caught my attention, two families who were arriving and they where both in mourning. Two distinct families, both grieving for a lost one. I knwe they were grieving because the members in one of the families were all dressed and black and their eyes were bloodshot with tears. In the other family, a woman, who seamed to be the mother, was in tears and looked like someone had run over her soul. One place, one single moment, where two completely different emotions filled the air. I felt myself taking in both energies and felt tired and extremely sad.
Then I chose to brush it aside and focus on the reason I was there. I was there to meet someone I hadn’t seen in a while, someone who hadn’t seen her daughter in a month and I was there to witness a happy encounter. I should receive her with a smile. And I did, nothing else should matter at that moment. And when I saw mother and daughter meet in an incredibly tender and emotional embrace, I saw tears of happiness that completely overdrew the feeling of hopelessness I was felt before.

These moments are the ones we should cherish and hold on to as much as we can, because sad moment last long and always catch us by surprise. Celebrating life Is the best thing we can do.

Smoking, such pleasure!

I know smoking is bad for me. I'm not stupid, I know what it does to me. But damn, it feels so good. I'm not a heavy smoker, I only smoke about 3 or 4 cigarettes a day, but each time smoke I feel comforted and in a safe place. I feel relaxed and it helps me think. Isn't it weird?

Do I recognize my smoking as a habit? I guess I do. I realize I need that one smoke after my coffee that will make me feel good. But I think if I smoked a pack a day ou more, I the whole pleasure element of it would be obliterated by the need and craving. And there is no pleasure in privation, not the way I see it. There is however, a pleasure in risk, so you have a tricky situation. You want to take a risk, but you don't want to go overboard.

But It's such a hypocrisy isn't it? It’s amazing the kind of bullshit we feed our minds in exchange of a few pleasurable moments! We're so small.

But something this good has to be bad for you. It’s almost like sex, but with the counter part. Let's try not to go overboard in either case.

The numbness of summer

Summer has a way of washing away our anxieties, even if it's only for a few months. One afternoon at the beach, bathing in the salty and agitated waters and letting my skin absorb the sun’s energy is all I need to recharge my batteries. The sun gives me the energy I need, the heat helps my body to relax and give into a feel good kind of laziness and numbness. I'm in touch with nature; nature embraces me and makes me feel safe, safe from the daily turmoil, safe from poisoning thoughts.

Of course the medication helps too, but nothing like summer to make everything seam easier. When it’s summer, life just seams like a summer afternoon at the beach. Maybe there are chemicals that can bring you this sense of well being, but I would like to think that medication and drugs will never do the trick. Only being there.

Flying

The other night I dreamed I was flying. I hadn't had a dream like that in a while. When I was younger, I constantly dreampt I was flying. It was and still is the most exhilarating sensation one can feel. If a human could fly, this is what it would feel like, I’m sure of that.

First, I felt myself softly get lifted off the ground, my arms opened wide. I was floating on air like a feather. I felt a bit like swimming under water. Then I looked down and started seeing the trees and roads becoming smaller and smaller. Suddenly, I was up their with the birds. I felt like one of them, I felt I was silently communicating with them, in a way only those who can fly can communicate. I was one of them. I felt the wind caressing my hair and face; it was a delicate wind that was also guiding me towards the north. I looked down and there was a bridge underneath me. A bridge I usually go through by car. Now I was flying over it. What an amazing feeling. There is no other sensation that compares to this, nothing I can feel when I’m awake can equal the feeling of freely floating on air.

A funny thing about these dreams is that I always remember lifting off the ground, but never remember landing.

There are many interpretations about dreams of flying. I found one in this site that explains it in the following way:

To dream of flying is usually a pleasant experience and is accompanied by a sense of exhilaration and freedom. It usually feels completely natural as if we have somehow always known how to do this. Rarely is the dream accompanied by a fear of heights or of falling. Flying may symbolise liberation from something that's been troubling you. The obstructions and shackles that have held you down have been released and you can now experience the same sense of freedom that we see in the birds that soar in the sky. The sky may symbolise consciousness and spirituality so to dream of flying can represent the expansion of your awareness and the unfolding of your higher self ...read more

I haven't written diaries since the nighties

It's only fair to restart in the XXI century. I began writing journals at a very young age, I thought I could capture the moments forever. And I guess I did because as I read the pages I wrote a long time ago, I live each moment over again. Some moments I don't remember, but they are registered in those pages, they happened are where real. Otherwise, they would have been lost and put away somewhere in a distant corner of my memory.

You learn a lot from yourself when you read old diaries. I believe it's one of the best ways of knowing yourself. If you've kept diaries for a while, everytime you go back and read them, you'll be amazed of how many things surprise you about yourself.

It's good to be back.

This diary

...will serve the purpose of telling stories about a XXI century living experiences of a woman in her thirties. Be afraid.