There are days

There are days when I am impatience, anguish and frustration, and everything I do on those days feels insufficient, insubstantial, and superficial. On those days I also am sadness, melancholy, and nostalgia, and all the beauty and luminosity of life are alien to me. And I can't even stand myself, and I hate myself and blame myself for not being perfect, for not being able to give more to myself and all whom I love. And I look at myself horrible, I feel like a monster, and I tell myself that I am not capable of giving love, that I am the worst company. In those days I want to give up, stop trying, stop dreaming of flying, and embrace the world with my wings (which I don't have). And on those days at times, I just give up. Then life feels so heavy, so tiring, so impossible, that everything loses meaning and I surrender to the emptiness that opens. On those days, everything hurts at the same time: my body, my soul, my heart, my mind. And that pain makes me unbearable in sight, treatment, and company. But even in those days I try to be patient with myself, kind to myself, and compassionate with myself, and I repeat to myself that nothing last forever and that those days will pass, I will recover and I will be able to try again. But sometimes those days are so terrible that I can't muster an ounce of energy and willingness to wait for the storm to pass, and I become a storm myself.

And I think I know the reason for those terrible days: it is that I still want everything because I still think that I can achieve everything that is important and valuable to me: a brilliant mind, exceptional performance, vital self-care, and attentive and caring love. Because I still haven't learned to be honest with myself, because it still hurts to give up. And I know that I must remember that I am only a human being with limited abilities, and I should accept that I cannot handle everything. And that makes the sensations, feelings, and pains of those bad days more intense.

On those days I just want to be able to walk away from everyone because I know that I can hurt people I love, and the last thing I want is that because all I want to give people is love, understanding, and compassion. But, is it possible to give all that to other people if I am not capable of giving it to myself? Perhaps because I know that it is complicated, it is that in those days I prefer to keep quiet and seek solitude because I know that it is in the silence of the mouth and in the temporary absence of human contact that I will be able to meet again and reconnect with who I am and with what I want and I can be for and with others. Yes, because in those terrible days, I lose myself, I forget myself, I am empty of myself.

I would like to be able to say that those days are really few, but no, they are not few and, furthermore, they are recurring. I wish I could avoid them, and sometimes I can, but other times I can't. But you know, I'm just a human being, terribly flawed and sometimes monstrous.

Perhaps in those days I only need your company without words, the warmth of your hug and your hand holding mine, and your attentive gaze when I speak, because when you listen to me I feel that I reconnect with life, with the world, with the love. And I don't expect you to be able to give me this whenever I need it, because I know very well that you too will have terrible days in which you will not have the energy, courage, and willingness to be with me and listen to me, because life is going to overwhelm you with all its variety of complicated and painful situations (to be clear, I wish you never have to live that terrible days, and I also wish to be able to help you if you can not avoid them). 

There will be times when we are both going through those terrible days at the same time, and it may be difficult to be empathetic, understanding, and compassionate with each other, but can we at least try to be honest and accept when we are not? Can we tell each other when this happens? Even more, Can we try to understand when this happens? We may be able to ask for space and time to simply be imperfect and monstrous in each other's company, without judging each other, without demanding anything different from what we can give in those moments? We may be able to give each other that opportunity? Can we keep in a little box a little of the love that we have in the bright and light days to use in those terrible days in which we can not even with ourselves? We may be able to love each other in those sad, heavy, gray days?

I know very well that you have had two terrible months, that you have had to break into a thousand to try to attend to many things at the same time, too many people at the same time, many demands and self-demands at the same time. I know it very well. And I also know very well what it feels like in those moments, because I have lived it myself before, many times, and because I am living it again now. And I apologize if in these last three weeks, I have been impatient and not very sympathetic on some occasions, if I have misunderstood your words, and if I have not been able to be clear about what I feel and need. Maybe in the next two weeks, everything will get complicated for me and I won't have what it takes to be fully sympathetic with you, or at least not all the time. This month has been very difficult and hard, and right now I'm just trying to do well at least a little of everything I started this year. I know that I will have to make difficult decisions once the semester ends, but for now, I am only trying to finish this semester in the most complete way possible, although my strength and my spirit are no longer enough for it..

And no, I don't think or feel that our conversations are superficial because I know very well that every situation and contact with life that you have in every second of your existence is full of deep meaning, because I have seen the attention you pay to every little detail, because I have heard the most exquisite stories you can tell about each one of those details, and because any detail deserves the most delicate and careful language on your part. Each pause, each comma, and each variation of the same word is evidence that there is nothing superficial about you and your life. And not only do I enjoy that way of being of yours, I love that way of being of yours. Again I chose the wrong expression because I just wanted to convey to you that these days my mind and my heart cannot be disconnected from the image and the sensation of the depth of the hole in which I feel that I am falling again. Perhaps the most appropriate expression is darkness, since I feel that everything I can think, feel, and say lately regarding my life these days overshadows and absorbs the luminosity of the conversations we usually have. 

I know very well that the version of me in these circumstances is terrible, and you have already begun to know it. I wonder if you can find a little compassion, patience, and empathy for that version of me; I wonder if you can love her too; I wonder if you want to love her.