breu comunicació

 Avui ha sortit l'esperat cd de la Taylor que suposadament tant m'havia de fer patir i pensar en tu. No em malinterpretis; he pensat molt en tu. Però sorprenentment no m'està fent mal ara pensar en tot el mal que m'ha fet en el passat. Crec que he aconseguit estar en un punt en el qual reconec el que vas fer pel que és: una irresponsabilitat afectiva, una negligència i manca de respecte involuntària. De fet, tot va ser involuntari, però alhora, havent estat en el teu lloc, havent-me sentit exactament com tu declaraves sentir-te, i empatitzant, sense voler-ho, amb el que m'expressaves, ho veig claríssim: hauries d'haver-ho fet millor. I fet millor significava haver-te sentat amb els teus putos sentiments, haver fet front al fet que no volies estar allà, i haver-te atrevit a puto dir-m'ho. Perquè al final de l'únic que vas pecar és de no enfrontar-t'hi, no de sentir el que senties. I hagués estat bé, i hagués pogut ser la teva amiga. Però ara sento que hi ha un abisme entre tu i jo perquè jo no et puc parlar d'això i tu no me'n parlaràs per voluntat pròpia. 

Però tornem a la Taylor, que és del que estàvem intentant parlar. Aquest nou cd m'ha deixar un tant indiferent en la primera part, que val a dir que és la part que pensàvem que era completa. La segona part, tot i que millor, no m'ha tocat la fibra com ho han fet les seves altres lletres. 

Sento que una de les raons és que visc ja molt lluny del que expressa, i que probablement si hagués sortit al hivern, l'hagués gaudit molt més; una altra és perquè em fa la sensació que les lletres estan fetes de forma més obvia i evident, i potser al meu parer careixen d'aquesta lírica que em feia voler pausar la cançó i escoltar-la de nou perquè no podia creure com algú havia escrit quelcom així. 

Crec que simplement em falta escoltar més el CD, i que no empatitzar amb aquests sentiments no deixa de ser quelcom bo. 

Maraya

a bad day

What is this feeling?

Why am I struggling to believe that those who are supposed to love me don't even like me? Why am I feeling it now, and 

So much is happening and I can't quite put a finger in what things I am okay with and which ones I'm not. I still have way more capacity than before, and that's something I'm really prou of. But the notion of having "had it all" mental health wise, and having lost it, is worse than not knowing you don't have it. I feel like I am getting dragged around with little understanding, and that I am lacking so much energy to confront even the basics. So yeah, I don't work that many hours, yeah, nothing wrong is happening, yeah, I do other stuff; but it's already taking so much. And nothing great is happening either, and I am expected to accept this medium okay situation where yes, yes, it should be better, but it is what it is, and suck it up. Or fight for these things no matter how much strength you have. Fight it faking there's nothing else to fight, and don't show it or it'll bother, or it will be the proof that you're nit fit for this, or you will be annoying, make it uncomfortable. No one likes someone crying. No one knows what to do with someone crying. 

But hey, I liked who I was. I liked that despite everything I was still someone nice and approachable. And I know people like that; do I like them though? I am not willing to sacrifice any ounce of myself to fit in.

Maraya

of conflicts that come too early

Yes, I've fucked up, said some shit I shouldn't have. I didn't take care of your insecurities the way I should have; you're worried people are going to think badly of you, probably worried the same thing will happen to you again, and it won't. I am certain of it.

 It feels like we had a bit of a precarious balance where we were putting cards, like a naipe tower, and that this has thrown everything to the floor. 

Somehow I wish I hadn't been there to have lunch; I wish the first word didn't escape my mouth. But I am also very aware that despite having done something wrong, the amount of guiltyness I feel is over the top. I have not killed anyone, I haven't stabbed someone from behind. I haven't even done this to hurt you, despite it did. It was far less evil than that.

But it seems like you needed something that proved your fear, that I am actually someone you shouldn't even try anything with. It feels like once the first card dropped you went away and took all of yours, because how can you even try with someone like that?

I know I did something wrong, but I also know how wrong it is. You must probably not believe me, or trust me, when I say this, because you don't know me, but I do truly care about not hurting you, and I did truly do it from an innocent perspective. Naive, maybe, to think you wouldn't care, but also, I have been there. And it does get better, I promise you. Mean people will always find an excuse to be mean, but others understand. And those are worth keeping.

In any case, I do feel I'm being treated a bit unfairly. I think I have triggered something really rooted in you, and I feel extremely sorry for that; i do own it. But I believe I deserve a space to navigate this, and to not have projected on me the hurt others, maybe even willingly, put on you. I believe I have been upfront and coming from a place of care, love and willingness to talk; and I have been met with cold interactions, dismissive answers and the invalidation of my need to talk about it. Just thought now that I didn't tell you I needed to talk, and perhaps I should; but the uneasiness still lingers, for I see now that I deserve to be met with at least the same honesty that I have given you. 

A bit confused, and scared on my behalf

Maraya

the anger came back

Some days ago:

Sometimes I catch myself thinking if and buts. What if I didn't go to Norway? Would you then have loved me til today still? Would you have been closer now? Would you have suffered less? Would I have had the part of you I so badly wanted, and then no anxiety would have broken me? 

I let myself think about that today, I played with the thought of me leaving being the problem to you stopping loving me.

But we didn't stand a chance, did we? If it hadn't been that it would have been something else. I would have triggered you another time, maybe when our surroundings turned too much to bear, too painful, and you wouldn't have been by my side and this would have happened, before or after. We got some sweet and very short time before everything got messy, but it would have gotten messy anyway 

Today:

The anger came back. The more I see how easy I am to be loved, to be liked, fully, in my whole splendor, the more angry I am at you to make me feel like there was anything wrong with me. I wonder if that's also what happened to you; but at least I know that I constantly communicated my love, adoration, and like for you. Now telling someone that I really really like them doesn't feel like a risk to make myself suffer; now being nice to people fully, by caring about them, doesn't feel like there's something inherently wrong about me for wanting to do it. My anxiety is seen as something not my fault, and it treated as such. The anger came back, and I do feel it's easier to see you, but also it's difficult to not tell you about it. So much of what I'm feeling is rooted in how you behaved in our relationship, so much that I keep thinking "how the fuck did I stay there for that long?" "How the fuck did you not tell me earlier you didn't want to be with me?" I believed you were confused and I was a nice person showing you love, not someone you wanted to date. Believe me, I understand completely. But I had the fucking balls to own that this was not fair to the other person, and I didn't let it be for years just because I didn't want to face any truths, and just pretended there was no issue. A form of gaslighting, perhaps? You have convinced me countless of times that my anxiety was based on nothing, but we both know that's not true. I hope you're happy, but I also want an apology. Today I have had a conversation with someone that felt anxiety around me and my relationship with them, and I know that, even though the fears were stupid(ly anxious) they weren't based on anything. There is stuff changing and not acknowledging that is just cruel. Stuff changing does not make the fears come true but sparks them; and being offended because they exist on the first place is straight up bullshit. Sometimes I hate the person you made me be, the person you were with me and what we were together. I think the period that was nice was awfully short; but I also think I deserved much much better. It is not difficult to love me and I am not difficult. 

A bit angry still,

Maraya

somriures espontanis

Avui he somrigut espontàniament de felicitat, k m'ha recordat a aquell temps on em sentia plena, satisfeta, feliç, i conscient de ser-ho. No em malinterpreteu, he sigut molt feliç des de llavors, però tot ha estat tenyit per un vel de pessimisme, pànic, por a la fragilitat de l'instant que vius, i ansietat. I tot i haver sigut molt feliç, m'ha costat riure fins plorar, somriure sola perquè no em puc aguantar les ganes, o respirar un aire de primavera que em faci voler arraulir-me al sol tant calmada com una gata fent la migdiada, sense por al futur, ni als i si. Serà que el sol realment cura i fa massa temps que no el veig? 

He somrigut espontàniament mentre xerrava amb el meu millor amic, i rebia els missatges d'un altre amic després d'enviar quelcom un xic risky. Sentia que li estava fallant i enlloc d'això la resposta ha sigut d'allò més càlida, com una tirita molt ben colocada acompanyada d'una tassa de cafè com les que t'agraden, perquè la persona s'ha enrecordat de com el vols. He somrigut espontàniament i la sensació no ha marxat del tot.

Aquests últims dies he estat cansada de descobrir i redescobrir que certes conductes (tant meves com al meu voltant) en realitat eren una merda. En el seu moment, quan vaig adonar-me'n de que no se m'havia respectat en la intimitat, vaig pensar "uf, bueno, almenys ara ja ho sé, ja no em pot passar". I en certa manera, així és: hi ha moltes coses de les que m'he alliberat d'aquella època. Però ilusa de mi, pensant-me que llavors estava segura, vaig enfrascar-me en un altre context on havia de lluitar per rebre cada pessic d'amor i carinyo, i on la meva estima i cuidado es llegien com a quelcom negatiu. I ara, quan pateixo perquè sento que algú em rebutjarà perquè cuido massa, perquè estimo intensament, perquè em despullo emocionalment de seguida, penso que que injust ha sigut que dir-li a algú que tingui un bon dia i que això detonés el seu rebuig m'hagi fet desconfiar de totes les meves mostres d'amor. 

Sé que hi ha gent que em considera freda. Que no abraço prou, que no mimo prou. I en certa manera, és veritat, perquè a no ser que tingui absolutament la màxima certesa de que ho puc fer, i de que no se'm rebutjarà, no ho faig. I la realitat és que gairebé sempre m'he sentit rebutjada, o not enough en tots els aspectes, per tant, com merdes haig de crear la seguretat de que si vaig a abraçar a algú no m'apartarà tant fisicament com en el vincle? Com haig de crear la seguretat que tot i que algú no vulgui una abraçada, això no reflecteix res en mi, i que no sóc menys, i que no passa res? Com puc treure el focus de que el problema sóc jo quan he sigut el denominador comú? 

Segurament vindran moltes més altres realitzacions com aquesta en el porvenir, però la veritat és que ara no estic tant espantada. Tinc curiositat per saber què serà el següent "bah, era obvi, com no ho has vist abans" perquè se ara que no ho és i què no hi ha res que hi pugui fer. Aquests aprenentatges vindran, i faran mal, i això és part de la gràcia: que aprens fent. Que em podria haver estalviat un trauma al voltant de la intimitat? Si, però això no corre a compte meu. El que hagi de venir, que sigui perquè persones boniques i fantàstiques no poden compartir certes coses amb mi, altra persona bonica i fantàstica, i no perquè hi ha un clar patró de no respectar límits, no ser directe, honest ni reflexiu, ni comunicar-se. 

A la merda amb tot, i visca els dies dels somriures espontanis.

Amb amor, 

Maraya

we could have been friends

I was reading in a fantasy book about torture and you came to my mind. I know that when police tortured you, beat you, terrorised you, broke your hearing, you ended up saying what they wanted to hear. I know that in books torture and people who don't break from it are seen as heroes, but it's also a really naive, superficial interpretation of what happens when you get broken piece by piece. They don't asses the shame you feel afterwards regardless of whether you broke or not. The fear that soaked every bone, the ghosts you manage to see in plain daylight, the panic explaining it causes. No, in a book, the main character is tortured almost to death and survives, and never breaks their vows, and they walk away from it without experiencing any of this. They rely on rage and they have the opportunity to, I don't know, blast fire from a dragon's mouth to their torturers. 

But not here. Here you drown under a system that covers your agressors and is your enemy, and you're supposed to keep going with your life by yourself. But you created a network for others to not be alone. 

I know you ended up inventing what they wanted to hear, because you couldn't take anymore the fear, the pain, the desperation. And that the court case started with the same fake story only to end with you announcing you had made up everything just to be free of the cruel claws and dirty fingers of the police. 

I feel like we could have been good friends. I think I would have been able to be there for you, but I struggle to think how to do it now. I think as your equal I would have been a pretty damn solid rock, a shoulder to cry on, and someone you could go seek care if you need it. In a way, that's what you are for me now, although my ghosts are only magnified in my head and there is actually no threat outside. 

I wish I could find a way to acknowledge what happened, and tell you that there is no shame in trying to survive in whatever mean you can, there is no one chasing you, and your friends and loved ones will only feel inmense love and pride for being around you. The fear of someone judging you exists only in your head. 

I love you dad, even if sometimes I struggle to say it. 

Maraya

el somni d'avui

Avui he somiat que era l'aniversari de un familiar, i efectivament així era. Conscientment no ho recordava, i és ben curiós com el meu subconscient m'ho ha recordat exactament el dia en qüestió. El somni era d'allò be. Estrafolari, doncs la meva àvia materna anava a dormir a casa de la mare del pare de me germana: es a dir, algú que no té cap tipus de relació amb ella. Aquesta senyora també es posava la meva jaqueta taronja, la qual he hagut de portar avui perquè plou, i es feia una fotografia amb la meva àvia a les 8 del matí, que era quan jo havia de marxar de casa. Feien un dinar, i estaven convençudes que jo hi assistiria, però jo tenia una cosa del cau (que, efectivament, tinc avui) i els havia de dir que no hi anava. 

Crec que potser em dedicaré a escriure el que vaig somniant per aquí, ja que es una cosa que ja volia fer (escriure el que somnio) i aixi aprofito per rematar una altra cosa que també: escriure cada dia.

El somni d'avui m'ha deixat molt sorpresa de com de llest és el meu subconscient

Maraya