Don't cry for me Argentina

 

This is how I like this house. All in silent, with everyone closed in their own private spaces and the rain that is slowly falling in the outside world. Here we are in this little tiny bubble in a giant universe. Facing ourselves through the mirror glass of one another.

I have felt for a while now that my time here has slowly come to an end. The strange part is that I just feel very calm thinking about it. It is just how it is. Life has its ways and my way is not here any more. It is like this thunder that is rumbling in the distance, you never know when the next lightning will cut the sky.

This Monday I finally decided that I was going to speak with my teacher, to tell her about my doubts and thoughts of leaving the school earlier than what I am supposed to. That day it was really hot, and I felt very strange, my stomage was not feeling very good so I skipped breakfast and just drank a lot of water before lunch. At the time I went for school it was really hot outside, it felt like I could not breath. And I felt very tired. I had been drinking a lot of water but my whole body just felt really bad. My first class was one of the classes I have started to hate. I don’t know why, but I think it is because I feel so much pressure in this class. To be good, better, and I never seem to be enough. The teacher always looks at me with this eyes that says, no Marina, this is not good enough. And I do really believe her. It’s like they have all of this high believes in me, that is not true. I am not even half way there. And it isn’t like I don’t try. I really do. But I just can’t make it up to their believes. And it just crushes me.

And in the same time, I try to convince myself, I do not even care about what they think. Because I don’t really care about being perfect. I don’t want to win any prices for my pointed toes, I do this because I thought I loved it. But I know you have to work hard to get where you want. And I want to do that, I can do that. Or lately, no. Lately, the most of my strength have gone to working through the day, smiling, thinking about my next step, trying not to cry, thinking, only one hour more, only this class to, than I can go home, just one more month. I do love this I do, don’t I. Always trying to think of all the positive things that I like and reallyreally will miss with this place.

And it do work, for a while, days sometimes, hours. And than it struck me again this lightning, right through my chest. Just a smell, the sun making patterns on the ground or the sound of a bird singing in a tree, which takes me back to that day or those weeks, when my dad died this summer.

I know that this pain that I feel will never go away where ever I might be. It has nothing to do with the place where you are in, its something inside, that has to come out. One way or another. And it hurts, so terrible much.

It is this kind of pain that you have to share to let it come out. To share and share and share and share until it is all over. Until there is nothing more to be seen of it.

And sometimes it is just easier to share this pain with someone that stand you closest.

I love you so much, all my beautiful friends here in Argentina. And I know that you would listen to me and you have been listening to me, a lot of times, and maybe it is just about me. That I have been too scared to share all of this with you, but you have to understand me too, it is hard to get close to another human being. That takes time.

And especially when you both speak different languages. I cant tell you how much I appreciate everything that you have given me. And I will never forget that. My house is your house where ever I am.

So this particularly Monday I was in class, but I didn’t feel good, and I just watched everybody working, and I knew I couldn’t continue, I felt the tears building up inside of me. And my stomage was moving like I was going to throw up. I decided to leave the class and when I told my teacher she took me outside. She asked me why I wanted to leave, if I was in any pain or sick in any other ways, and I told her the truth. That it was just emotionally, that I just couldn’t do it, I started to cry and she asked me how old I was, 24 I got out. And I felt all ready there how ridiculously it was standing there crying telling my teacher that I couldn’t do the class because I was homesick. Of course there is a lot of other things, it’s just to much things, that not even I know what it is, sometimes I just can’t hold on to my feelings, and I have just learned that when they come there isn’t much to do than to let them all come. But I couldn’t tell her that, not in Spanish at least, and she doesn’t speak any English. So I was standing there feeling even more embarrassed and small, for being such a child, 24 years old acting like a 5 year old. And she pointed it out to me, it’s your choice she said. You can leave when ever you want. You are a grown up. And she had right of course.

She told me to dry me tears and come back in to the class, because if I was there I could at least do the best of the situation and leave with a good grade at last.

When she left me, something broke inside of me and I couldn’t stop crying. Some of my friends in school came out to drink some water and found me crying, when they hold me, I started hyperventilate, and there and than I got my first panic attack. I have read a lot about this things before, and wasn’t really scared, I knew I wasn’t going to die, even if it felt like I couldn’t breath, I was grasping for air. Breathing faster and faster. I just couldn’t stop it. They took me out on the ground to lay me down and my hands started to cramp, they where like ice, hard as stone. And I wasn’t able to move them a bit. They tried to hold me, and helped me to breath slower and slower. I had to listen and focus really hard to be able to breath normally again. It took quit sometime. But my hands where still hard as stone, and when ever I looked them in the face I felt like crying again, because the hole situation also felt very embarrassing for me.

I am supposed to be so strong, I am 24 years old and I have always been taking care of myself. I have even been taking care of my own parents most of the time. And now I was lying here on the grass, feeling helpless as a child with my friends skipping class because of me. Because I just couldn’t keep my eyes shut. Because of this ridicules panic attack. And I felt so glad that they where there, and in away I didn’t want it to stop. Because in that state I just wasn’t able to hold myself. I just had to let it all go. I just couldn’t do anything else than fall into their arms. And in one way that did also feel very nice.

And also I hate this, I mean I hate that I am so vulnerable, and in the same time I value it. I hate it because, I have nothing to be sad about, really. I have a wealthy family in a country where you can get help from the state if you get in trouble (ok there is a lot of stories about people who doesn’t get that, but I know my family would help me if something bad would happened, and ok my dad is death and my mom has cancer, even if it is gone now… but still). There is so many people out there that has been trough so much more terrible things than I have, and they still go on, they are still working hard, they are still trying and keeping there face up, smiling and helping other people. In comparison with them I am really weak. And ridicules. Like a spoiled child asking the beggar for money for its new shoes.

I do really hate myself. And than when I think of that I start crying again. How egocentric isn’t that. Everything in my life has always been about me. Sometimes I wonder if the world just wouldn’t be better without me.

But the funny part is that I know that there is people that likes me. Even if I still haven’t figured out why.

And I know that all of this feelings is something that I have to work on in me. I I I I and I am the one, the only one that can change this thoughts in me.

I have been running from this, from this confrontation for a long time now. It started with anorexia, in wish I thought that if I controlled my food intake and managed to get a nice and skinny body I would at least look good and people would like me. Things would change. I would be happy. Of course it didn’t work. And one day when my brothers wife told me that she just couldn’t watch me do this to myself anymore, and one of my best friends told me that she didn’t think she would ever be able to live in the same house as me because she thought it was to hard to watch my disturbed food habits, I decided that there had to be some changes. And I didn’t want to die. There was, is, to many things in the world that I love, and want to explore. And I guess I know deep inside, that I am and can be a nice person.  

After this I explored many things, and as soon that I felt this confrontation of mine, coming closer and closer, I changed again for something new, that could keep my thoughts busy with all this other things. Sometimes I got really close, and sometimes, I hurt people really badly because of this, habit of mine, never get to close.

I am just really bad at relationships I told myself, I just want free love. I just want to feel free. And maybe that is true. In a way. But in the same time I also never really let anyone get close enough, I never let anyone in.

I am this funny person you now. Crazy. I love being a child. Running around, jumping where you are not supposed to jump, dancing in the rain, being all wet, and being ridicules. But that is a role that I have. I love the phrase that says that you should never let go of the child inside of you. And I have always thought that I was really good at that. Letting my child out. But now when I think of it I see, that it isn’t really true. Because to really be a child, you have to be able to let go. Let go of all of your emotions, to trust. And trust I don’t have. I am terribly afraid of letting go.

But I will learn. Someday I will. Little, by little.