Another 18

Sometimes it's just too hard. It seems more difficult now with the good weather than a while ago. Maybe I had just pictured myself with Jacopo in a park and not alone following the same routine of one year ago. Routine which is tasteless. I feel stuck, repeating myself over and over again in a blind circle. These were supposed to be the last weeks of my maternity leave and every day that goes feels really heavy. I bought some new clothes for myself when I'd have had to buy new stuff for my growing son.  I had some sushi for dinner, alone at home, when I'd have had a 7 months old to wean. Every action reminds me where I am and where I should be and this place of mind isn't fun. I'm prepared to feel incomplete for the rest of my life and this is a kind of fair enough. It's this continuos parallelism of the real world and the one I had imagined that's slowly killing me. My mind can't rethink anything but me and John with Jacopo in a park with the sun and the gooses and the wind. A beautiful world which I'll never have.

Camber sands

Me again in front of the Ocean. I felt all right, with the sun warming my skin and the cold water lapping my feet. Then as often happens, I felt sad again. Jacopo should be with us, with his little feet in the water, enjoying for the first time in his little life the strength of the sea. Maybe he was there in the shape he always is. It's in the happiest and most beautiful moments that grief hurts more. Strange, isn't it? I'm kind of getting used to this sensation and it's not excruciating anymore, it's just there, always, in good as in bad days. So I was watching at the Ocean lost in my own thoughts when something very strong came from the inside and I felt hope and an undertone of joy and the breath of life to fight the death.

Thanks my Ladies, thanks. Maybe those white roses have reached the outlet of the River after all. I'll keep trying, I will.

I did it!

Long and hard day, but eventually worth the effort. Now I can retire.

Why am I putting myself through this additional stress is a question which doesn't get any answer. It's my fault, I overdid, I seriously overestimated my psychological stability and now all I can think about is: I can't make it.
But I have no choice
But I can't make it
But I have no choice

This loop of thoughts is giving me a headache.
I just want to fall asleep and wake up in the summer.
I have the mind numb, no concentration, no entusiasm, no self confidence and basically I just don't want to do it.

But I have no choice.
Shit.

Angel mother day

No cards, no flowers, no noise in the house, no special lunch, no expectations. A day like many others, outwardly. Inside, the hole is a bit deeper today than it was in a long time and the scar bleeds again. It's like having a thorn in my heart. It's there as a part of me. It doesn't hurt much until something suddenly makes it move and it pricks and I cry.