Letting the memories out

I just realized I had a record. I had a record of shit that’s been going through my head from the moment we knew we were moving to Canada.

So, I imported all my old blog posts to here ‘ cause I wanted to read them again and maybe figure stuff out.

At this point I realize there’s never been anything bad going on with me, yet, I always sound scared. I think it’s about time I control that. I mean, I should be an adult by now, according to my birth certificate.

The last couple of years have been turbulent, though. We’ve moved from Brazil to Canada and we are about to move for the 4th time in Canada already, which is a LOT, considering we have only been here for 1 year and 10 months.

Apparently, I am not that good with changes and I am desperate to go home. Not the home I came from. The new one. The new place that feels like home.

Two weeks ago when we were in Montreal I was sure I had found that place.

Next year, when you read this, I will not sound scared and lost anymore.

That’s a promise.

Bed bugs

The reason why I haven’t been writing is because we have bed bugs. Well, it’s not exactly “us” as much as it is our neighbors. At one point, they came to our room through the common wall.

I am very allergic to their bites. VERY. I couldn’t close my hands when they got me.

So, I didn’t go to work most of last week and we ran away to Montreal as the house got fumigated.

I figured, if we have to leave the house, we might as well go some place we had never been and have a little vacation…

Montreal is amazing! I love it – love it – love it !

It’s not just an amazing place, I mean, Ottawa has some nice buildings as well, but Montreal is ALIVE. People are OUT on the street, riding their bikes and there’s always something going on… I am in love!

I loved seeing the old ladies together having a beer by the river, just living life.

Plus, this is gonna sound weird, but my husband pointed out that the Catholic churches make me feel at home and I totally agree with him, even though we don’t go to church… it’s a very familiar “face”. I absolutely missed it.

But my favorite part of the trip was when I stopped panicking about shit that’s not happening. I kinda forgot to panic several times ’cause I was too entertained. At one point, when we came back home, even though we were under a lot of stress ’cause the bed bugs were still there, I was able to relax. I don’t really do that often.

Then, when I went back to work and all the panic came back.

See how things relate? It’s quite obvious when I talk about it : “Stress makes me think either me or my girls are dying.” Simple, right? If I’m happy, I’m ok. But controlling this shit is far more complicated than writing that sentence.

So, there’s a lot going on and we are busy cleaning the house and putting everything in plastic bags… we also decided to move and leave the beds behind. I’ll probably be quiet for a while, but I’ll try to post!

 

People are so mean.

I like writing. I like talking to people. If I see something that I like, there’s a chance I”ll wanna talk about it, but I rarely ever do that, specially on social media.

So, this morning I randomly complemented a famous girl on Instagram. It’s stupid to talk to the people who’ll never acknowledge your existence, but I do it from time to time, whenever I’m in a good mood.

Because of that, some random woman was rude to me.

She could have been rude to anyone down the street and they’d just ignore her and keep going with their lives. But it was me and I felt like I was attacked.

People are so incredibly mean and they have no idea how they affect others by doing that. The fact that that woman criticized my compliment made me shiver.

I have panic disorder -so they say-. I hate conflict. She doesn’t know that. All she knows is that something was going wrong with her life and she decided to take it out on strangers on Instagram.

Now I am questioning everything. I’m not sure if I’m healthy anymore. I start thinking I have some kind of rare disease that’s gonna kill me in months because that’s the way my mind works whenever I see conflict and I can’t stop it.

And now I’ll suffer. For minutes, hours or even days. It’s hard to say.

I’ll suffer because those tiny words from someone I’ll never meet triggered something on my brain that I fight day and night not to trigger so I can have some peace.

But she doesn’t know that.

None of us know the ghosts the live inside other people’s heads, as we wake them up day after day.

Yes, I am over sensitive and most of the things that disturb me are only inside my head and not actually happening. But I still suffer from that, unfortunately.