Happy Anniversary, Minds
We have been holding hands and caressing our wounds for a year. It is clear that grief hurts less if we share it with each other.
Dear Insane Minds,
Just a year ago my bosses, who were not yet, offered me to open this blog to rant about whatever I wanted, without restrictions, or direction or anything. A year and 47 blog entries in which, indeed, I have complained about everything ad infinitum.
The first text claimed my 44 years and now, a year later, I am just about to receive the pin of 45, which seems totally unfair because this last year has been worth at least three, so I should be turning 48 , according to my calculations.
365 days that have become eternal that you do not see, with more duels than one thought capable of assuming, with a galloping depression, with anxiety up to the eyebrows and that feeling that nothing else can happen to you until … pluf! Something else happens to you that you would never have believed could happen to you. Well yes, that’s life.
And to celebrate this year of Insane Minds and having come out of the depression and the duels a lot wiser and a lot more vixen, I have decided to write all summer only about the good things in life. I already got into flower-power plan last week, and so I plan to continue.
One good thing in life during this year has been all the Insanas that have accompanied me and that you have made a network so that I did not kill me in this endless fall. This post, loves, is for you and for all of you who are holding networks so that people do not get away when life turns upside down.
For all the teaspoons that we make and receive while one cries infinitely, those teaspoons that are not going to flirt but to be friends and pamper each other at night, which is when anxiety takes strength to enter like a torrent in the morning. For all the shoulders that we fill with snot and drool, every night listening in a loop to the same story that we have told ourselves 300 times but that the thing is not about informing us but about getting the shit out of the mouth again, for all the patience that we miss him, for all the emergency cafes, for all the video calls to support us and not go to hell, for all the emergency trips to the shelter-houses and for all the shelter-houses that we make available, for all the fair hugs at the exact moment, for all the jokes that we ended up making about everything, even the worst, the hardest or the most shabby, the saddest and the most funny, that we even made memes in my case to pass us like this in secret and have a few laughs.
If there is something that really saves us from the fall, it is loving each other when we need love, which is the most difficult moment to love someone, but it is when loving acquires all its meaning.
This text, you see, is a text to thank the network, mine and everyone, the very idea of the network, weaving and weaving and sustaining us under the storm.
But also, Minds, this text is to celebrate a year of this blog that has not been any bullshit, that very beautiful and very private things have happened around here and very truly in a world of lies.
Thanks to all of you who have sent me messages saying “partner, I have read your text and I feel as ridiculous and as painful as you” because that shared smallness, that laugh about us and our similar sorrows, has also given us a little bit of life. And to all of you who have sent me your stories of depression and grief, because of the need to tell them as I have felt, because of the friendships that have emerged from these texts, yes, these things happen, or because of the virtual moments of having a perhaps fleeting affection for us, but sincere.
To all of you, we continue walking. Thanks for being there, and thanks for leaving me a little space to be in.
Happy week, Minds!
