Healing

October 23, 2014

I’d like to think that I’m currently undertaking a healing process. That I have to put all my knowledge and my resources into work and make an effort to not to be the guy to whom always rains on top of him.

Rain or sunshine

Rain or sunshine

Many years ago, I created a piece of artwork (Rain or sunshine) with two persons. For one of them, the sun was shining. For the other one, it was cloudy and rainy on top of his head. The same day, different attitude. I want to be the person that shines on, together with the clarity of the day, the person that becomes bright in spite of the difficulties.

I’ve discovered that writing helps to heal, and also helps to reach out to people. I’m overwhelmed at the amount of people that read my story and told me a little bit of theirs. We’re all human beings and we can relate to each other.

I need to take small steps, day by day, one at a time… facing a new challenge, having dreams ready to be dreamed, waking up every morning to a new day and being thankful of just being alive.

We take too many things for granted and we can only realised of the value of things once we’ve lost them. Health is a precious gift, we need to care for ourselves.

Thank you for being part of my journey, to listen on the other side of the road, to just be there in the present moment. That’s all we need: others. Nice to meet you all, you’re great people.

Like Success

October 22, 2014

candombera:

Great writing found and here to share with you all. Enjoy!

Originally posted on Like Chocolate:

Maya Angelou

once said that she wanted the following phrase to be carved on her tombstone: “I did my best; I hope you do the same.”

 

Recently I’ve been wondering what my best consists of. Should my best include aiming for society’s idea of success? Should it include achieving my dream career? Should it include building a family? Or should it just include the simple idea of being happy? I’ve been wondering what people equate success and achievement to and I’ve been wondering if they strive for these ideas for themselves or because the world tells them they should.

As a senior in college now I’ve been reevaluating my goals in life and what are the most important things to me. It seems that other people constantly love to give their opinions on how other people should live their lives. They look down on people if they don’t have…

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It all started less than two months ago. I ended up in hospital, after two days as an in-patient. They said it: post-partum psychosis.

How on Earth do you carry on with your normal everyday life when you’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness?

I though about starting a conversation about this. Not too sure if to throw it out there… but if I don’t, what’s the point? I thought there will be people out there experiencing something similar. Some new mums desperate for help, and I can offer my experience, as a basis to start talking about this, get the ball rolling.

I’m a new mum. My baby Julian is almost 8 months old. He’s a precious little thing, living in his own world. I couldn’t connect with him as much as I’d love to after I got sick, two months ago.

I was delusional. I thought that my partner and all of my friends were part of a gang trying to poison me and Julian. I escaped home twice, the second one on a Monday night at 1.30 am singing a mantra under the rain, carrying my baby in a pouch. I wanted to go to Town Hall police station. There were no trains. The brothel workers waiting at Artarmon station spoke no English, but I managed to make myself understood: please call 000. My baby and I need HELP. When I spoke to emergency, they asked too many questions… that I thought it was a waste of time as I needed the ambulance NOW, that same moment. I ended up hanging up and catching the night bus with the brothels workers, all going to the city.

The cops looked at me in disbelief. They said every night they hear a similar story, but I managed to convince them to call an ambulance. Take me to a hospital, and then I will be safe. I ended up in RPA Missenden unit, the Psychiatric unit, emergency department. I was there for 2 nights, until I could prove that I was not as insane as everyone else.

But no sooner was I out, I was back in hospital again, of my own accord this time. The Royal North Shore, for another two nights, until I was transferred to the best hospital of its kind in NSW: St John of God, mother & baby unit. I was there for a month, recently discharged a week ago.

This was one of the most terrifying experiences of my whole life. And I think it felt like this, because I’m a new mother and I’m responsible for the care of my baby.

St. John of God does a terrific job with new mothers with similar illnesses like anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and psychotic episodes. They have group therapy twice a day, a holistic approach of carers with nurses, doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, medication, meals, art therapy, walks, bonding time with the babies. Everything is in the right place for the affected mothers to recover quickly, and so I did.

So that’s why I’m here telling you my story. Because I made it to the other side. It’s still challenging, every day, I’m learning how to live again with who I am.

And on the other side, everything seems exciting, like a new road, so many things to learn ahead, a different horizon, too many strategies to put into place.

And tomorrow, there’s always tomorrow and a new beginning.

Rise for a cause

July 31, 2014

Yogathon2014_email_reg

Life goes on

July 15, 2014

The 2014 World Cup came to an end.
Argentina got the 2nd place in a very good match against Germany, but not good enough to win the cup.

It doesn’t matter. Life goes on. We dreamed, we felt alive, we shouted in front of the TV, we gathered with friends, we wore our blue and white t-shirts with pride.
It’s funny how people reacted so differently to the result of the World Cup final. Some people were really angry with the team, with the referee, with the winners, with the world in general.
Others were grateful for the effort that our team put into it, they left everything in the field, they played with their hearts and their souls.
Other people celebrated as if we had won! They went out to the streets to sing, shout and expressed their happiness.

For me and some others, it was OK to lose. Yes, it would have been great to win, but it doesn’t matter that much, because the purpose was fulfilled and we’ll have another chance. Sometimes it’s better to let go.

open road
And who knows why I decided to write this post in English… sometimes ideas come in a specific language… and I have to express them as they come.

It’s good to be back! I hope to be back more often… not to wait another year to find inspiration to write. Inspiration can be anywhere, even around the corner.

Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I do like writing.
Hope to be in touch with you soon!

Another day, another road, another dream…!

Levantarse a horas increíbles (2, 4 am en días de semana) para sufrir y alentar por 90 minutos; conservar las cábalas; seguir cuanto comentario/meme/video aparece en las redes sociales con la selección, Mascherano y ‘Brasil decime que se siente”; y esas ganas locas de ir al Obelisco cuando ganamos frente a Holanda pero como estoy en Hong Kong, solo resultó en saltar y gritar mientras mi perro parecía festejar con sus ladridos la clasificación a la final.

Hoy es la final, y si bien faltan unas cuantas horas hasta que nos enfrentemos a Alemania, ya siento todas las emociones previas al encuentro: miedo, ansiedad, euforia…  A la selección le digo: Gracias muchachos por la alegría que nos han dado estas semanas!!

 
Besos y Vamos, Vamos Argentina!!
Tango

Tango

Hacía falta una gran motivación para volver a escribir. Es que escribir no es fácil como parece. Escribir es enfrentarse a la hoja en blanco, y consecuentemente a nuestro propio vacío. Porque cuando uno escribe, lo hace con todos los sentidos, y deja el alma en lo que cuenta.

Finalmente, llegó este Mundial. Y empezamos tímidamente a ponernos contentos, de a poquito, porque nunca se sabe… aunque por estos pagos, al estar lejos de Argentina, las situaciones se idealizan, y todos nos atrevemos a soñar un poco más.

Todo empezó cuando nuestra amiga Kathy nos propuso ir a grabar para un canal de tele, SBS, una nota sobre los hinchas argentinos viviendo en Australia, y allí estuvimos, apareciendo en las noticias de la tarde.

Fiebre Argentina / Argentina fever

Empezamos a juntarnos con amigos a ver los partidos, quedándonos despiertos hasta las 2 am o poniendo la alarma para levantarnos a las 6, contentos el día que cayó a las 8 am.

Desde Sydney, Australia añoramos no estar ahora mismo en Buenos Aires, gritando por las calles con la camiseta puesta, y hacemos lo posible para recrear un pedacito de esa fiebre que solo los argentinos podemos transmitir.

IMG_1105Argentine fever

En definitiva, por más que nos encantaría ganar, lo importante es haber llegado a este momento. Ganamos o perdamos, ya hemos hecho historia. Ganamos o perdamos, siempre vamos a ser argentinos de alma. Ganamos o perdamos, llevamos la camiseta estampada en el corazón. En Buenos Aires, en Europa, en la China o en Australia, argentinos, se nace, se vive, se siente.

 

 

 

Here goes a nice post from my friend Ana and her new blog.

Aca les re-posteo algo que escribio mi amiga Ana en su nuevo blog.

To goal or not to goal.

Ciudad de contrastes

April 3, 2013

Llueve torrencialmente en la ciudad. Escucho la radio con noticias sobre inundaciones en varios barrios y me pregunto cuál es el orden de prioridades.

El sábado y domingo pasado el gobierno de la ciudad organizaba el Súper TC 2000, 2do. Campeonato Argentino en el Circuito Callejero de Buenos Aires, entre las calles Tagle y Ayacucho, sobre las avenidas Del Libertador y Figueroa Alcorta.

Caminando desde Retiro porque estaba todo cortado hasta Recoleta, fuimos a echar un vistazo. Sin tener el menor interés en el mundo automovilístico, pero con un grado de curiosidad ante semejante delirio. Solo accedimos a la zona “gratis” que estaba llena de gente, no se veía un pomo y a los 5 minutos el ruido ensordecedor era insoportable. Llegando a la conclusión de que Buenos Aires no es Mónaco, seguimos caminando rumbo al Centro Cultural Recoleta.

Me pregunto porqué muchos espacios de la ciudad que antes eran mis preferidos, ahora no lo son tanto. Supongo que la mirada cambia con los años, no es lo mismo observar a los 20 que a los casi 40. El hecho de haberse ido y entrado en contacto con otras estéticas, probablemente haya dado lugar a una mirada diferente.

Pasan los días y uno se va dando cuenta de que vuelve a Buenos Aires por otra cosa. El asadito con amigos (gracias Chan y las chicas), el café con charlas eternas en cualquier esquina, el pelotero con mi sobrina y toda la gente que nos sigue esperando, aunque uno se haya ido hace mucho tiempo.

asadito porteño

asadito porteño

Y es entonces cuando uno aprecia de nuevo a esta ciudad, porque la ciudad es un poco nuestra gente. Y la gente que uno quiere siempre está.
Además acá existe una capacidad de conversación increible, se pasa de un tema a otro con conocimiento (o chamuyo porteño) y profundidad.

Buenos Aires es una ciudad de reencuentros. Y cuando ocurren los encuentros, uno se olvida de todo lo demás. Todas las cosas malas pasan a un segundo plano y uno entiende, en ese momento, el porqué del eterno retorno a la ciudad de la furia.