Feel, Touch, Experience

Try and...

Touch your feet on the side-brushes of an escalator and feel the tingling on you skin
Feel the scorching water from the shower falling on your skin until it turns cold
Crack your knuckles and feel the relaxing sensation on your muscles
Drink a cup of water after having coffee
Run your fingers in between your toes
Take off your socks and scratch the bottom of your feet on a rug
Smell the food before eating it
Put on lip-balm and rub your lips against each other
Run a feather over your belly and have goosebumps
Drink a cup of water right after getting up in the morning

Inconspicuous but grand feelings...

What I resist, persists and speaks louder than I know

I can be an asshole of the grandest kind

I can withhold like it’s going out of style

I can be the moodiest baby

and you’ve never met anyone

who is as negative as I am sometimes

I am the wisest woman you've ever met

I am the kindest soul with whom you've connected

I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen

And you've never met anyone

Who's as positive as I am sometimes

I blame everyone else, not my own partaking

My passive-aggressiveness can be devastating

I'm terrified and mistrusting

And you’ve never met anyone

As closed down as I am sometimes

I'm the funniest woman you've ever known

I am the dullest woman you've ever known

I'm the most gorgeous woman you've ever known

And you've never met anyone

as everything as I am sometimes

You see everything, you see every part

You see all my light and you love my dark

You dig everything of which I'm ashamed

There's not anything to which you can’t relate

And you’re still here

I resist your love

But you're still here...

(written by Alanis Morissette)

Mundos e Medos e Vice-Versa

Algumas amigas e eu estávamos visitando uma das mais novas construções da cidade. Era um empreendimento moderno e lindo, com várias torres de 10 a 50 andares e haviam somente quatro elevadores que davam acesso a todas as torres. Os 4 elevadores estavam interligados, tendo acesso pelo mesmo corredor. O interior dos elevadores era deslumbrante, espaçoso, com muitos espelhos tendo o chão um cinza espelhado.
A cada parada do elevador, passeávamos pelos andares, os quais eram diferentes mundos cada um.
Num dos andares que paramos, eu encontrei um cachorrinho pinscher bem pequenininho de cor preta, com mais ou menos 2 meses de vida. Mas ele nao estava bem, e mal conseguia parar em suas próprias pernas. Percebi que ele tentava andar devagarosamente, mas estava tonto e ficava a maior parte no chão. Algo que chamava atenção nele era alguns pontos de luz verde-amarelada fluorescente que emitiam de seu corpo. Entao eu decidi pega-lo pra levar ao laboratorio que ficava no em um andar subterrâneo. Assim que o peguei meus amigos me criticavam, dizendo que eu  nao deveria fazer isso pois eu nao sabia de quem era o cachorrinho, mas eu continuei a andar com ele nos meus barcos.
Como estávamos no oitavo andar e meus amigos nao me deixaram entrar no elevador novamente, decidi a descer as escadas. Minha amiga de cabelos lindos, longos e ruivos decidiu vir comigo.
Enquanto descíamos as escadas, eu percebi que os pontos de luz no cachorrinhos se intensificaram e ficaram maiores. Entao eu comecei a correr e rapidamente descer os degraus, ao ponto de pular três degraus ao mesmo tempo enquanto corria.
Enquanto eu passava pelas pessoas, elas gritavam de medo e corriam de mim, e me diziam pra largar esse animal pois ele era radioactivo.
Assim que chegava a porta do laboratório, o cachorrinho ja era todo amarelo fluorescente, a sua pele negra ja nao existia mais. Entao eu o joguei rapidamente para a porta do laboratório. Enquanto ele ainda estava no ar, ele se tornou em varias bolinhas fluorescentes que espirraram e pulavam no chão. Entao alguém gritou de longo dizendo pra todo mundo correr e fugir pois essas bolinhas eram muito perigosas e podiam nos matar.
Eu e minha amiga ruiva tentamos entrar no elevador, mas eles ja estavam trancados e nao funcionavam mais por motivo de segurança do prédio. Entao voltamos as escadas e começamos a subir quando eu senti uma pequena dor no meu braco e depois de olhar percebi que resíduos do liquido radioactivo tinham ficado no meu barco e estavam começando a queimar minha pele devagarosamente. A ideia de fazer um torniquete me veio a cabeça e deu certo, pois o liquido amarelo parou de se dissipar pela minha pele.
Ao mesmo tempo eu fazia um enorme esforço pra conseguir subir todas as escadas rapidamente e fugir das bolinhas amarelas, que logo se multiplicaram e perseguiam todos os humanos ali, com o objectivo de se reproduzirem novamente. Muitas pessoas nao conseguiram fugir, e foram assassinadas pelas bolinhas.
De repente eu percebi que as escadas se moviam e perdiam seu formato, pois ao invés de degraus, elas começavam a ter somente barras e ficavam cada vez mais íngremes. Isso fez com que precisássemos usar nossas maos e barcos pra movimentar, e nao mais as pernas.
Finalmente chegamos num andar seguro, onde tinha uma grande e forte porta de aço, a qual fechamos pra que as bolinhas nao passassem por elas, mas este andar estava inundado com agua, e eu nao conseguia entender como isso aconteceu.
Um medico me puxou para o lado e com uma maquina moderna, passou um laser em cima do meu braco para identificar o que era aquele material radioactivo que tinha me infectado. Entao ele percebeu que, embora nos outros cadáveres o liquido amarelo tinha tomado seus corpos e os matado, no meu braco ele nao tinha efeito, e ficava estagnado, somente deixando uma queimadura bem profunda. Entao decidiram nao precisar cortar meu braco e deixar como estava para curar.
Segundos depois, olhei para trás e percebi que toda a agua que tinha inundado aquele andar tinha virado neve. E que havia um grande abismo a alguns metros dali.
Comecamos a andar e procurar as escadas pra passarmos pro proximo andar, que supostamente era mais seguro, mas nao conseguiamos achar as escadas e a neve dificultava-nos a andar. De repente o abismo dobrou de tamanho e varias pessoas cairam, gritando de dor enquanto elas caiam. Era um barulho horrivel.
Finalmente duas amigas e eu conseguimos achar as escadas e com a forca de nossos bracos, chegamos ao próximo andar. Mas era um mundo que se parecia com antigamente. Todos estavam vestidos de gladiadores, com armas nas maos. Haviam leões andando por toda a parte.
Minhas amigas e eu tivemos que achar roupas típicas do local para usar e nao chamar muita atenção. Mas logo percebemos que os novatos apanhavam e havia muito sangue no chão. Então procuramos um lugar para esconder.

Guilt

All the disappointments in life. Illusion to think you can ever run away and hide.

Love your family...

Sometimes it is so hard to comprehend why things happen the way they do.

They just do...

I feel sorry for myself. 

Why do I allow the abuse and humiliation?

So far it has been a prison. But as hard and I try to convince myself there is freedom out there, it is hard to believe it.

Life as you know it. Not real. 

Rid myself of this plague.

If only I could let myself make somebody unhappy so that my freedom is finally mine?

I cannot hate myself more than I already do.

What is the way out?

Who's to blame for making me who I am? Her? Never to admit it.

Is that really what I believe?

Maybe part of myself does.

A monster.

Nahai

Her grandparents' house was so big she would lose count when trying to find out how many bedrooms there were. The living room had a large fireplace where the whole family would gather every night to talk, laugh and hear her grandfather telling stories. All the cousins, aunts and uncles lived together in that huge house, managing to have a harmonious life. One night, Nahai was showing a video she had made about every person in the family. The video was a compilation of several videos she had recorded of different moments for the past 2 months, during family time and throughout the day.
While she was playing the video, they slowly started to get up and leave the living room. Her first feeling was that they were not interested. But the real reason was because it was getting late and dark and each one of them had to go to their rooms, which were on separate floors. Each family had designated a name for their room, but as she found out, they were segments like vampires, floaters, people who could create and leash fire with their hands, and other relevant characteristics.

The vampires called themselves Sukus. A Suku had orange skin, bright-white teeth and they needed to eat meat in order to stay alive. They were very strong and nobody could hurt them.
The floaters were known as Kocas. A Koca had very long hair which helped them float whenever they wanted, and they were prohibited to cut their hair. If a Koca were old enough and had long enough hair, he could probably fly, depending on the purity of his heart.
The fire people were called Palos. A Palo had the ability to create fire only on their hands, and then transfer it to wherever they wanted. But for that they had to drink at least one full jug of water everyday.

Finally everybody left the living room and Nahai was left alone, while the video she had created was still playing. Even though this was her family, she had no room of herself; she had nowhere to go.
Snow was falling outside. It was a cold night, so she wrapped herself around a heavy blanket near the fireplace. The living room was in the last floor and the only way to get to the ground floor or even to leave the house was to go to the last floor, where the living room was, and use the slide, which was made from ice.
To enter the building, there was a set of stairs made of ice as well, but you could only take the stairs to go up, never to go down. If you tried leaving the house by taking the stairs, you would walk in circles, never being able to leave, only to endlessly have a feeling you were going down but never reaching the bottom.

One day, Nahai's cousin, who was a Koca, tried to go down the slide, but she got her long hair stuck and  tangled around her legs and arms. Her cousin's lips were so luscious. A Palo quickly went over and  helped her untangle herself and leave.

Nahai was unable to fall asleep so she took the slide and went all the way down to the ground floor and exited to the street. She noticed so many different people and they were all having a party. But she could notice separate groups, not all of them would mingle together. The Sukus wouldn't get close to the Palos, for example.
After walking around, she saw a friend that she hadn't seen for a long time. His name was Boji. He was short, had a slim and fit body and Nahai was a tad taller than he. She quickly hugged him. They went on walking together as she wrapped her arms around him and she felt so secure, as if all of her fears had disappeared.
While they walked around, they walked past a group of young Palo girls who had their arms burned, with scars and red blisters. They were probably still learning how to control their ability. But their eyes were full of fire, as if they couldn't yet release it.

Nahai wanted to spend all night with Boji, learn all about life as he would teach her, but he said it was safer if she went back to her grandparents' house, since she had no house of her own. He took her to the stairs, gave her an eternal hug and off she went. Nahai slowly went up the stairs, taking each step while wondering if she would ever see him again, but she had hope in her heart and it mattered for that moment.

Kylie

Outono... as folhas das árvores ficando amarelas, vermelhas, roxas. Uma dança de cores tão bonita quanto a aurora boreal. Sentada em um banco num parque, ela contempla a natureza, a cor do céu, a forma como os raios do sol da tarde se refletem na água da lagoa, como as pessoas andam e se comportam, vê as crianças comendo pipoca e tomando sorvete.

Um enorme sentimento de nostalgia, relembrando os momentos de criança, quando podia correr de um lado para o outro, somente com a preocupação de brincar, aproveitar o tempo e se divertir.
Ainda muito jovem, os sonhos de uma menina inocente, ambições infindáveis, esperanças de uma vida cheia de conquistas, de um dia poder fazer as pessoas felizes e acabar com a tristeza no mundo. Tudo parecia tão fácil e delicioso, como subir no pé de manga e comer seus frutos maduros. A ignorância do que tinha ao alcance, e o desejo e ansiedade ao que ainda estava por vir. A negligência do amor familiar, de quão confortante era poder ter o abraço caloroso da mãe.

Já muito tarde, ela perdeu o amor e a esperança de ser livre. As ambições já não tem significado, muito menos os desejos. É como um lago de águas negras numa ilha sem sol, com águas paradas, sem movimento e sem vida. O príncipe encantado se foi e deixou as pontas afiadas de um sonho despedaçado. O futuro guarda solidão e tristeza, ausência de vida e ventos frios.

O relógio despertou. É hora de ir trabalhar.

O que ser

De todas as vezes que penso quem sou, descubro que sou eu.

Eu que não entendo o que é ser.

Eu que não entendo como não ser.

Muitos já tentaram e conseguiram deixar de ser.

Eu também. Mas não consegui.

Simplesmente e somente porquê o segundo que está por vir é o mesmo que já se passou.

Mostra-me quão breve é o tempo que foi e que vai.

E eu, mais breve ainda.

O que fazer com este eu que não sabe?

Deixar de ser ou ser eu mesma?

É mais fácil isolar-me.

Nem ser, nem deixar de ser.

E continuar sendo ninguém.

The Healing

If I remember correctly, I was about 6 years old when my adoptive mother first told me I was an adopted child. It was probably several times that she would lay me on her lap, touch my hair and say something like: "A mamãe te ama muito mas você tem outra mãe. Ela te doou pra nós quando você ainda estava na barriga dela porquê ela não tinha condição de te criar, então ela queria uma vida melhor pra você, poder ir pra escola, ter brinquedos...". 

Several times she would repeat that same story to me. It wasn't until I was about 8 years old that I started to be conscious about it. I even remember one day I got spanked for some misbehavior and later I went into my bedroom, got a plastic bag and packed a few clothes, then I told my sister that I was going away to find my real mother. How stupid was that!!

That thought was always with me. Specially during adolescence. I forget how many times I told myself or my siblings that I was going away! Thinking back on it, that was probably what triggered my brother to have so many nasty fights with me. So many times we would fight over trivial things and in the end he would tell me that I wasn't his sister, that I didn't belong to that family, that I should leave. It still hurts, but I do love my brother and I forgive him. I just wish I could also forget it.

Live with what you have been given, stop complaining and wishing things had happened differently. What matters is how different we are going to live the now and then.

I feel alive, content. Hopefully one day I will be finally be able to get rid of all thoughts of suicide that have always been part of me. I truly want to live. Live today, make right decisions, and wait for the consequences in the future. Be it rewarding or not. 

The Manifestations

"(The pain of adoption) is something that can lie dormant most of one's life. If it erupts in childhood, adolescence, or early adulthood and is dismissed as neurotic behavior or normal rebelion, it can subside into numbness. But it can stir malignantly in some adoptees all their lives, making them detached, floating, unable to love or to trust..."

Manifestations of occurrences in a baby's life are never to be underestimated.

Learning about how that affected me as a baby with results to be present throughout my life, has more than ever, helped me understand who I am and accept that as part of myself. Facing the fact that my birthmother abandoned me as a child has been the hardest thing. I would think that for anybody it would be very hard to imagine and accept being abandoned without pity while still a tiny baby. How can a baby be so bad and unworthy of the love of its own mother? That has created an inexplicable sense of guilt that has been haunting me since I have been aware of my own identity.

Sometime ago a very close friend asked me to try and find out the reason of my feeling of unworthiness, and after some reading and thinking, it looks like the adoption is the one to blame.
That would be explained by what Nancy Verrier calls the "Bad-Baby Syndrome", which basically is defined through a mother not giving away a good baby, therefore if my mother gave me away, I must have been a bad baby. This created a feeling of rejection and has been subsequently present in my adult life, where every slight rejection triggers the belief of being a "bad baby".
Hence I was bound to become a people-pleaser, a dreadful characteristic. To me, pleasing everybody means I will never get rejected again. To be able to do that, I created a fake self, where I can be two persons, using the most convenient one when needed. However the true self is never revealed, nobody ever gets a chance to see my real self.

Another characteristic that strikes me the most, is the inability to trust another human being.
That has always been a part of myself, whether it is perceived as a good quality to have or not. At this time of life, I would prefer to think that it has impacted me in a negative way. I say that because I've never been able to get close to anyone! That hurts because all human beings need to express how they feel, no matter then means they use. Having nobody to trust and to express myself to is painful. Needless to mention the inability to carry on a healthy relationship. One which there is love and trust as the foundation.
Actually, love is dangerous!! There will always be a need to keep a distance from other people as a way to be less vulnerable, not to get attached and take the risk of being abandoned again, not to reveal my true self and be rejected again. Skepticism in that way is a huge part of my personality.

An alternative way to prevent any future abandonment or rejection is to be in control of every situation. I've been several times labeled as a control freak, and I have never denied that; at least now I know where this comes from. It is almost intolerable to let anyone else be in control of my life.

In summary, some of the issues could be described as fear of rejection, lack of trust, fear of intimacy, loyalty, shame and guilt, identity and power or mastery and control.
All adoptees suffer a primal wound as a result of their separation from their first mother.
I believe that to live a life full of self-pity, wishing that it would have been different, would not help at all. The answer would be to acknowledge the fact and how it impacted my personality, acknowledge the difficulties it has created, live with this reality and learn how to deal with it.

I am now learning how to deal with all these emotions and am so grateful that I have a real friend to help me get through it. A most incredible friend, one who's caring, loving, understanding and non-judgemental, who knows what it feels like to be myself because he has himself, while a baby, been through the same experiences that I have.

Everything aside, healing is on the way and I cannot wait to see the better person I will become after healing my wound. Although the scar will always be there, visible, I will no longer be bleeding all the negative feelings. I will then have found happiness.

The Wound

A new-born baby. You may think there are no feelings, no memories. It is incredible to know that even inside the womb, a baby knows and feels. The mother also feels, connects and bonds with her baby. For nine months they are close friends, only expecting to meet when time comes. How can she interrupt that connection exactly at the most precious time, when the both of them finally see each other face to face? How can she voluntarily part with a piece of herself? How can she give away a piece of her core? How can she?

Growing up, I was told many times how my birth mother loved me so much she decided to give me away to a better family. Indeed, that is exactly what happened. I felt rejected and abandoned nonetheless. How can one understand that? Is that love? Love means separation and suffering? That is not love. For whatever reason a mother decides to relinquish her baby, it is a voluntary decision. One that will forever impact the lives of two human beings. Needless to mention that the baby is who will forever suffer the consequences of this separation, which brings results to its own inner being. Results that are painful only to mention.

Within myself, there are feelings about this traumatic experience, which have recently helped me in understanding why I am what I am. From now on I have to convince myself that having these feelings does not mean that I am abnormal, sick or crazy.

Feeling rejected and abandoned has struck me as difficult to admit and difficult to accept. I am very well aware of the pain and consequences this causes on an innocent baby. It is an experience that has been part of me since I was born, which was never clear or even available as a considered option. As an adopted child I was expected to be grateful for being in such a nice family. And that was and has been indeed how I feel and will always feel thankful for the family I was given. However that expectation was originated within myself and within society. It offered no empathic understanding of the consequences that would have on my personality, or even how it would mold me to become who I am. At no time it was perceived as a negative experience, when a baby has to cope with being separated from the very being who nourished and gave life to him. Instead, it is a privilege and a benefit for being chosen. But how can one understand the fact of being chosen, when, at the same time, being rejected by one's own mother? Would it mean that love equals rejection? As an adult it seems hard to have a grasp of these concepts, needless to mention how a child would feel. Nonetheless, these feelings are hidden within, and flourish during adolescence and early adulthood years, a crucial time when one is creating its own identity.

I am learning that the answer to all of this is to acknowledge the difficulties, live with that reality, and learn how to deal with it.

______________________________________________

Um bebê recém-nascido. Você imagina que não há sentimentos, que não há memórias. É incrível saber que mesmo dentro do útero, um bebê entende e sente. A mãe também sente e se conecta com seu bebê. Por nove meses eles são amigos íntimos, somente esperando pra se encontrarem no tempo certo. Como ela pôde interromper essa conexão exatamente no momento mais precioso, quando ambos finalmente se vêem face a face? Como ela pôde voluntariamente se separar de uma parte dela mesma? Como ela pôde doar um pedaço de seu cerne? Como ela pôde?

Enquanto crescia, me disseram várias vezes que minha mãe biológica me amava tanto que ela decidiu me  doar para uma família melhor. Realmente, isso foi exatamente o que aconteceu. Todavia eu me senti rejeitada e abandonada. Como alguém pode entender isso? Isso é amor? Amor significa separação e sofrimento? Isso não é amor. Por qualquer razão uma mãe decide renunciar a seu bebê, é uma decisão voluntária. Uma decisão que pra sempre irá impactar a vida de dois seres humanos. Dispensável mencionar que é o bebê quem vai pra sempre sofrer as consequências dessa separação, a qual trará resultados a seu ser interno. Resultados que são dolorosos de mencionar.

Dentro de mim mesma, existem sentimentos sobre esta experiência traumática, os quais têm recentemente me ajudado a entender porquê sou o que sou. Daqui em diante tenho que me convencer que ter esses sentimentos não significa que sou anormal, doente ou louca.

Me sentir rejeitada e abandonada é difícil de admitir e difícil de aceitar. Sou bem ciente da dor e das consequências que isso causa em um inocente bebê. É uma experiência que tem sido parte de mim desde que nasci, a qual nunca foi clara ou até mesmo considerada como uma opção. Como uma criança adotada, era esperada a ser grata por estar em uma família tão boa. E isso era e tem sido exatamente como eu me sinto e pra sempre serei grata pela família que tive. Entretanto essa expectativa foi criada dentro de mim mesma e pela sociedade. Nao me foi oferecido algum entendimento ou empatia pelas consequências que isso teria na minha personalidade, ou até mesmo como isso me moldaria a me tornar quem eu sou. Em nenhum momento foi entendido como uma experiência negativa, quando um bebê tem que lidar com o fato de ser separado do ser que o sustentou e que deu vida a ele. Em vez disso, é um privilégio e um benefício por ter sido escolhida. Mas como alguém pode entender o fato de escolhido enquanto ao mesmo tempo ser rejeitado pela própria mãe? Isso significa que amor se iguala a rejeição? Como um adulto esses conceitos já são difíceis de compreender, não preciso mencionar como uma criança se sentiria. Todavia, esses sentimentos são interiormente encobertos, e se desenvolvem durante a adolescência e os primeiros anos de adulto, uma época crucial na qual uma pessoa desenvolve sua própria identidade.

Estou aprendendo que a solução para tudo isso é reconhecer as dificuldades, viver com essa realidade e aprender a lidar com elas.

A new endeavor

There is one reason for this new endeavor, and that is him. It is him only.

I have always felt so alone, like nobody would ever be able to understand me. During my life, the only thing I strived for was somebody to look like me, whether that be inside or out. It was sad when I finally realized that although I could find people out there that could be like me, I would forever be imprisoned in the space I created for myself: myself and I. Self-pity started to hit, which forced me to go deeper in my sorrow. Having nobody to express myself to, or even having the means to do it, only aided me in locking my senses away. The difficulty in saying, showing or whatever method I could ever use to express my feelings, was always here with me. Only the wishes to be somebody else, someone I could be, but no me.

Slowly I learned about him, who I could not only blindly trust, but be myself with. Only to find out that he is my mirror, my soul mate, who I was made for. He does and will forever know and understand who I am.  Now I know that I am not alone; now I know that I will always have him close to my heart, mind and soul.
I no longer feel alone, yet still feel unique.

Mary and Max
_______________________________________

Existe uma razão para este novo experimento, e essa razão é ele. É somente ele.

Sempre me senti sozinha, como se ninguém nunca poderia me entender. Durante toda minha vida, a única coisa que eu queria era que alguém se parecesse comigo, seja por dentro ou por fora. Foi triste quando eu finalmente descobri que embora eu poderia encontrar pessoas no mundo afora que poderia ser como eu, pra sempre eu seria presa no espaço que eu criei pra mim mesma: eu, e eu mesma. Sentia pena de mim mesma, o que me fazia ir mais fundo em minha aflição. Não tendo ninguém pra me expressar, ou até mesmo não sabendo como fazer isso, contribuiu para que minha sensibilidade fosse exausta. A dificuldade em dizer, mostrar ou qualquer que fosse o método que eu usasse pra expressar minhas percepções, sempre foi presente. Somente o desejo de ser outro alguém, alguém que não fosse eu.

Lentamente o conhecia, a quem eu poderia não somente confiar, mas ser eu mesma. Descobri que ele é meu espelho, minha alma-gêmea, para quem eu fui feita. Ele para sempre saberá e conhecerá quem eu sou. Agora sim eu sei que não estou sozinha; agora sim eu sei que para sempre o terei perto do meu coração, mente e alma.
Já não mais me sinto só, embora ainda sentindo ímpar.

Mary and Max