by HelluvaGirl

There are two types of stress I experience.

The first is latent and ever-present, and it makes me eat too much.

The other one overtakes my whole mind and the body is unable to consume a thing.

Now is the time I can’t. One thing on top of the other and, as a result, emotions are boiling up, I’m in a constant fighting stance and I fail to keep the cheerful face on – which I generally consider an important part of being sociable. My shit is nobody’s problem.

I struggle to make a small talk; I look at things for long moments and can’t understand what it is I’m doing. My memory crashes on simple things. I don’t know where to begin.

I was on a good track but apparently the direction wasn’t pursued for long enough to become a reflex. The Teacher says: there are no people or events: it’s all meant for us specifically to happen so that inside we grew Love to everything around us instead of producing anger and fear. Those are forms of aggression and it’s circulus vitiosus. It’s counter-productive and damaging.

I could speak of tangible reasons of feeling this way but they are not important. Whatever happens, happens for a reason, beginning with little things and ending with life-changing matters. I invite every situation, every word that reaches me. It is in a way my creation, my reflection. That’s just how it works.

I guess I lost my balance and slipped off the glass mountain. I want to leave, leave, leave (of course, quitter) but I know it won’t help. My mantras don’t seem to work.

But the saddest part is that we are never really alone with what we feel. We are always connected and we influence each other by our inner quality. Be it a deeply-underlying feeling, something well-disguised by acceptable behaviour, we are, to the greater part, what is unseen. And that part is never individual, separate or cancelled by reaction formation. The worst part here is that the ones we love – the ones we are strongest connected with – they are taken over with that inner quality of ours. We may not mention a thing. We may behave perfectly. But if there’s a storm inside, our loved ones get a cold.

Whenever I slip into the abyss of negative emotions, my child gets sick with symptoms doctors can’t medically explain. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t vent out or unload things too complicated for her to grasp. Like I said, it’s the other medium.

Like the time Western doctors said she had “asthma”. I went to this holist and after I explained the problem, the first thing he asked was what’s happened to me before her symptoms. It wasn’t newsflash for me that children are sick with their mother’s disease: modern psychology considers mothers a sort of poison anyway. It was, however, a strong confirmation for me that my daughter’s well-being is directly dependent on my state of heart.

That time, as a matter of fact, it was the divorce. Months before, I would wake up at night suffocating. After making the step, it has never happened to me again. Neither to Pia.

She told me once:

I am stronger than the planets, mum. I am more powerful than the Universe.

She is right. We all are.

The kid has headaches now.

Where do I begin?