This blog's main subject until now was living in Greece, which I must say, it's still "all Greek to me" to this day even though I've been living here for some years now. The people, the tabu's, the unrealistic obsession with the glorious past, the food(no wait, that is the only thing that makes total sense here), nothing here makes sense to me but then again, you know what? It doesn't really matter that much anymore because now, there is something that I know and understand even less and it's taken the entire spot light. It's called motherhood.
No matter how much you read about it, no matter how many friend advice you receive on the subject, when it actually happens you realize that all you read is basically wasted ink since nothing and no one can prepare you for this.
Every day is like a carousel: laughter, cry, desperation, relief, anger, worry, frustration, fatigue, fatigue, fatigue (no, it's not a typo) and any other state that you can think of, blend all together in a beautifully unstable time bomb that starts rolling like a snow ball getting bigger and bigger until one moment, when your significant other comes home and asks you: "how was your day, honey?" and then BOOOOOOOM! There goes the snow ball which by then is the size of a mountain and it hits him in the face with the force and speed of a TGV.
Believe it or not this is the happy scenario. The alternative one is the one in which, freakishly obsessed with controlling your reactions you bury the bomb as deep as you can every day. After a few months you are sitting on the deafening ticking of a bomb that would make Little Boy jealous and all it needs is a spark.
You don't ask for help even though you could use all the help in the world because you're sure you can do it and besides you expect the other to notice that you need it, to notice you're struggling, to notice you...to NOTICE. By the time you do ask for help, it doesn't really make any sense to the other one since..well..you've been doing great this far? what changed? why change? ....and that is the spark....
Myriad of emotions break free from their cages and they run wild like rabid animals, thirsty for blood, with teeth and claws as sharp as glass shards. They are all yours, you recognize them, you bread them patiently for months and yet now you have absolutely no control over them. They're taking over. You are under siege and defenseless.
The carnage seems to last for ever. And yet, at some point, the smoke starts clearing and you get a glimpse of the crater that's left both inside you and around you. They are not done yet, they will be haunting you for months but at least they are back in their cages for now. In all this mess, there, behind the ashes of a burning hope there is a pair of eyes looking at you enquiringly.
"Is there something I did, love?"
And here is when desperation kicks in...
No matter how much you read about it, no matter how many friend advice you receive on the subject, when it actually happens you realize that all you read is basically wasted ink since nothing and no one can prepare you for this. Every day is like a carousel: laughter, cry, desperation, relief, anger, worry, frustration, fatigue, fatigue, fatigue (no, it's not a typo) and any other state that you can think of, blend all together in a beautifully unstable time bomb that starts rolling like a snow ball getting bigger and bigger until one moment, when your significant other comes home and asks you: "how was your day, honey?" and then BOOOOOOOM! There goes the snow ball which by then is the size of a mountain and it hits him in the face with the force and speed of a TGV.
Believe it or not this is the happy scenario. The alternative one is the one in which, freakishly obsessed with controlling your reactions you bury the bomb as deep as you can every day. After a few months you are sitting on the deafening ticking of a bomb that would make Little Boy jealous and all it needs is a spark.
You don't ask for help even though you could use all the help in the world because you're sure you can do it and besides you expect the other to notice that you need it, to notice you're struggling, to notice you...to NOTICE. By the time you do ask for help, it doesn't really make any sense to the other one since..well..you've been doing great this far? what changed? why change? ....and that is the spark....
Myriad of emotions break free from their cages and they run wild like rabid animals, thirsty for blood, with teeth and claws as sharp as glass shards. They are all yours, you recognize them, you bread them patiently for months and yet now you have absolutely no control over them. They're taking over. You are under siege and defenseless.
The carnage seems to last for ever. And yet, at some point, the smoke starts clearing and you get a glimpse of the crater that's left both inside you and around you. They are not done yet, they will be haunting you for months but at least they are back in their cages for now. In all this mess, there, behind the ashes of a burning hope there is a pair of eyes looking at you enquiringly.
"Is there something I did, love?"
And here is when desperation kicks in...
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