Long time, not better


A lot of things have changed in the last few months. For most of them it was a positive change. I got a job I actually enjoy (even though it’s not what I had in mind for me) and I’m pretty good at it.

One thing has remained consistent though and that’s my anxiety. It’s always there, sometimes she sleeps. Sometimes, like the last few days, she’s a raging dog that makes my life impossible. Living on edge constantly, afraid of everything, filled with selfdoubt has never been fun and lately it hasn’t been easy to live with.

The one year anniversary of my father’s death is approaching and I am an absolute mess. It’s completely normal, everyone says. And I know it is. Still, living like this is impacting me in a way it’s getting harder to handle.

Am I capable of handling it? Maybe, maybe not. Right after he died I never thought I’d achieve everything I have. Still, I can’t seem to get a thought out of my head. That I’m merely surviving, that what I’ve done during the last year of my life hasn’t been living. And that’s okay too. I guess. It’s part of the process.

I just wish that with time it’s going to be less about surviving and more about living.

I’ll let you know when I get there 😊

“Living in Paris, driving a Range Rover”

Some things never change, Paris is and will forever be one of my favorite cities in the world.

Those were the words that came to my mind when on day one in college during a welcome conference the speaker asked us to close our eyes and think about where we saw ourselves in ten years time. That was more than ten years ago.

I currently live in Barcelona, about to move to Madrid, jobless and going through one of the toughest time I’ll probably ever have to live in my entire life. I recently lost my father (he died back in November) to a heart attack, he was 66. Exactly double my age, I am now as old as he was when he had me. Our realities at 33 could not be any more different.

I feel lost. That’s how I’ve been describing my life at the moment. Lost career wise, lost emotionally, just utterly lost.

I’m writing this because I don’t know what else to do with all the emotions and thoughts that haunt me daily. My anxiety has become who I am. My fear of the unknown is at its highest and I hope that writing it down can help processing it all.

So, this is probably not going to be a happy blog, I don’t even see it as a blog, it’s not journal. This is my therapist, for now. This is who I am, what I’m going through and if you’re reading this and can relate to some or all of it, maybe we can help each others getting through it.

PS: how shallow was I? “driving a Range Rover” If I could back I would tell myself to stop thinking about such unimportant things and focus on what truly matters.

All my love,