"You are strong."
"You'll be fine"
"I've never met a girl like you, you are indestructible"
How many times have I heard these phrases repeated, how many times have I heard them say during a moment of weakness, as if they wanted to reproach me for the fact that for a moment I would allow myself a second of weakness.
Because to be a strong woman, as everyone says, I had to go through bad experiences, because to be indestructible I had to face the worst demons, that my peers would be afraid of just thinking about it.
They are those phrases that continue to make you feel alone, and remind you "and, they are next to you because they admire your courage, but when you allow yourself weakness I don't want to have you anymore. Because as long as you absorb the problems others are fine, when others have to pick you up from the ground, you can very well die. "
But my dears, I tell you what, I'm a fucking bitch, who got up even when she didn't even know if it was really worth living anymore. And I assure you, touching the bottom, looking in the mirror and not recognizing oneself, getting up and reattaching all the pieces by herself, she can't at all.
But I assure you, even those you envy so much, the "strong" ones have moments in which they allow themselves to bring out those emotions that hurt so much. But being strong also means allowing yourself to experience every emotion, giving yourself a respite and saying "Yes !! It hurts, it hurts, but tomorrow it will be less painful."
And maybe a silent night reads you better than a conversation that lasts hours. You carry silence inside you like someone who is afraid of talking too much because from an early age you have been told that people are jealous and that you must not rejoice too much in your fortunes otherwise others are unhappy. And allow the silence to come in because maybe you hope that he will give you the right words. In the silent night the silence speaks and you listen. Sometimes it screams, sometimes it makes your eardrums pop, sometimes it makes you cry, sometimes it chokes you because it gets too close. You carry silence with you as if you had a weight on your heart, as if you could not scream to chase it away. I see you walking with silence tangled around you, with each breath it tightens around your mouth. I see you panting for fresh air, for new words. And sometimes you find them, and the silence goes away, then you start breathing again, talking, saying you’re happy, but people are jealous, they are unhappy with you, and they scream, and they talk to you. You wonder how it is possible that silence has no effect on them. You wonder why you didn’t follow the advice they gave you since childhood. Ask yourself, ask the void and the sky, you think a lot and too much. And, in that moment, silence attacks you again.
I’ve always looked at the sky. Every time I am in a place I have always lost myself looking at the blue of the sky, the white of the clouds. I’ve always had a strange connection with the sky I always feel part of him when I lose myself looking at him. I remain there enchanted. I get lost in thoughts To reflect on everything that goes through my head at that moment. I always leave a piece of my thoughts in those clouds A piece of me in that infinite blue. As if for a moment everything was still there in that sky. As if for a moment all thoughts are dispersed in those clouds. As if for a moment I forgot everything. I slept great tonight. Small in a huge bed, duvet to cover me and two pillows around to protect me. Zero nightmares. I dreamed of my father. He came to wake me up around five. He put his hand on my shoulder and said “I brought you the croissant”. At that point, the information received woke up all those particles of me that dance wildly at the thought of food. Inside of me I jumped up, but in reality the movement was quite slow. I first took off the covers, stretched, yawned as with every awakening, put on the false crocks and went to the kitchen to eat the croissant with cream. But there was nothing and so, a little sad, I only drank some fruit juice like every morning, remembering the time at university when my father came to me and brought me sweets. After breakfast, I opened the bedroom window and saw the white cat, PIPPINEDDA, in the garden eating some herbs. She had a sly, very sweet look. When she noticed me she went away. I cleaned the bedroom by making the bed, sweeping and mopping the floor; then the bathroom by thoroughly cleaning the accessories and all the products on the shelf, my father’s postit still on the mirror and in order not to remove it I cleaned the glass all around. I also tidied up the living room and kitchen by washing the floor and tidying up. While I was in the Cinderella version I listened to the usual songs and hummed perhaps a little too much. After cleaning I prepared the vegetarian meatloaf: minced meat, courgette bread, eggs, parmesan, parsley, salt and pepper, and lactose-free slices for the filling. After that I started writing, and LUIGINA, my black and white kitten, started to watch TV and I to the pc to update the blog. About half past I baked the meatloaf with potatoes. After lunch I did the dishwasher, because I can’t wash the dishes because my wrist hurts right away. There was peace in this house and it seemed to me that my father suddenly opened the door. But it was only this morning’s dream. I was happy to see him again.