Month: August 2023

Will got married

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The love of my life got married.

The descent to the “inferi” (see Dante Alighieri) for me started when I was still together with Will. Over the years I had eroded slowly but surely the confidence I had in me. Feeling invincible up to my studies, when I entered the job market the fight began. Fight to find a job, and fight to find what would make me happy, professionally. Love was always an important part of my life as a young woman; I never had just “fun” with boys, it was always a serious relationship. Starting with the first love, met him at the beach at 16, dated two years, then the German boyfriend at 20, met in Australia at my first big overseas trip during university; we were together for 7 years; then to Will at 28, stayed together 14 years, until I messed up. Today, 7 years later, I think that my professional life and the way I handled my relationships were the two main factors that brought me to depression.

Psychology sessions helped extrapolate the knots I had tangled myself in; it was not overnight; it took a couple of years. The first sessions I remember I was crying a lot, I could not stop, I was a mess and could not see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then it got better; I learned that I am attracted to dissatisfaction, meaning that I am looking for the things that go wrong in my life, and linger on them (like my mom); I also realised that I give (lose) myself too much in a relationship, not in the everyday life, but in the big choices. For example, the German boyfriend asked me to go to Germany and I did (the country was an awful experience for me) , the Canadian boyfriend asked me to leave Switzerland cause he didn’t like it, and I did. Back then, it was not a forced decision, I felt like I wanted to leave Switzerland, and trust me, it was amazing to travel around the world with the love of my life. But, in hindsight, I should have insisted to keep our status in Switzerland so we could go back one day, instead of leaving the safe life for good.

As a matter of fact, when I left Will, it was in Switzerland, where I wanted to go back to. Again, in hindsight, I should have handled this in a much more adult way, I should have not broken up with him for the younger guy, I should have asked for a short break, the time for me to understand what was going on in my life, and maybe we would be still together. Or not. Who knows. There are thousands of scenarios playing in my head, still to date, after 7 years. Leaving Will was the biggest regrettable action I have made in my entire life, but today I wonder if I would have been able to come out of depression with him on my side. If we stayed together, would I be happy today, like I am now? He would have fallen out of love probably, as nobody wants to be with someone crying all day, desperate about everything and broken in pieces. His love was not enough and I could not get back on my feet. I tried to shake the sadness in South Africa, but it had already pierced through my veins like a poison. I was sad in SA, and I brought my sadness to CH. I thought that by leaving the country I would leave my sorrows behind. Wrong! The sorrows follow you diligently. Faithfully. Irrevocably. You are the sorrow and the sorrow is you.

Despite my two-year therapy, and the effort to get rid of Will from my mind, I have always hoped, deep down, to find him again, one day, when we are older, and be together again, explain to him what happened and how; he would understand and we would travel again together around the world, as a retired couple. He would love me like he did before and I would love him back, and better this time. But in 7 years he never accepted to talk to me, he never replied to my 2-3 letters, and I just found out that he got married. Not with me of course, but with the lady he met 6 months after I broke up with him. Comme quoi…

The news shook me when I heard it in the moment; now I know for a fact that my hopes and thoughts of a future with him are futile, vain, useless and absurd. I want this news to accelerate the end of my love for him. Just as he placed me in a remote corner of his heart for good, I want to do the same, and allow myself to find a new big love of my remaining life. Good luck to me.

Zio Roberto is gone

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He is my only uncle. My mom’s brother. She has no other siblings; my father is a lonely child. Roberto had some health issues, and my mom went to visit him in early summer, sensing that it was the last time she would see him. My mom has always had this acute sense for medical diagnosis. She just knows what people suffer from and how to cure them. In Zio Roberto’s case, there was nothing else to do.

Zio Roberto died yesterday and I am on the train to Firenze, for tomorrow’s funerals. We have been in contact over the years, but he was not a close uncle. He had his life in Tuscany with his family (my cousin) and my mom had her life in Rome, with her family (me). They come from Sicily, which they left in their twenties.

Despite the timid relationship I had with my uncle, I am sad. I feel I am using his death to justify being sad, as if I were giving myself the permission to take a couple of days of sad-me, just like when I was depressed. It’s not quite the same (thank god), but I have been feeling down, feeling empathy for my cousin, who has lost 3 family members in 3 years (brother, mother and now father), just feeling sad and down, quoi. I didn’t feel like doing anything constructive yesterday, so I took the day off and went to see a friend and watch a movie at the cinema (Oppenheimer, 3h).

I am sorry for my uncle, I am looking back at happy moments with him and his family, and I feel sad because these days are over. I am kind of searching for excuses to be sad. I am truly sad, but I am not pulling my hair off my head out of despair. I am sad but I am ok. My cousin is really sad, and I feel for her, deeply. I do because I put myself in her shoes.

What makes me teerish is the thought of soon being at my cousin’s place. Soon my own parents will be gone, maybe one by one, maybe both together, who knows. The thought of losing them is unbearable and I wonder if I am preparing myself to that moment, by being sad today. Getting ready so that my baskets will still be full, despite the sadness. Cause the most important thing in my life is to not fall into depression again. Baskets full, self confident, sad yes but with perspective, detachment, cause I have to rely on myself and no one else. I have recently been missing being with someone, for exactly these reasons: I would like someone to hold my hand when I am feeling blue, I would like to write him notes of how I feel, and receive words of comfort. But I feel that missing this sensation is misleading, as I would end up relying on someone else for my own comforting and emotional relief. Sad then yes, but not for long, and keeping myself abreast.

Tomorrow will be a sad day. But I will be strong for my cousin.