Two years ago he was coming, as heavy as a ton of bricks, and treacherous bastard of a former high school. I know I heard him every morning while I was brushing my teeth, and looked in the mirror unatizia it was not me. Enjoyed my hair on the pillow, that formed a black veil over my sheets blue, laughing my assaults on nutella and I had mothers self-confident, with neonjati narcoleptic, and work-in-law flesibili fantastic. Metterva sadistically highlight my absence, making my son cry when I was not there, and crept in the earpiece of the phone to shake the heart.
Two years ago, the sense of guilt for being a bad mother was starting na eat your soul. Maybe I was just tired, maybe it was hormones or the pill or do not know. Two years ago, but I was wrong.
What was I?
Who was I?
Why was not like the others? Why I will not settle? Why could not justify my absence, my shortcomings (the job - the money-sleep) as did others?
was just the fact of leaving the Nano to my mother-in-law made me feel so lousy ..? Or was I?
"... now you're mom is so ..."
So .. how? Ugly, massacranrte. I have to sacrifice on the altar of motherhood, giving up on dreams, projects .. and if one day my son would ask: "Why do not you have this fate or what? my fault?". What would you say?
These and a thousand other questions that I had seen took away that filled my nightmares of poor sleep.
Two years ago I was afraid of not being able to be a person.
So I started writing. On a notepad where I had marked the stages of pregnancy, the little book given to me by my cigina because there were over with the beatles yellow submarine. I spilled ink and tears, anger and passion. I have written much and exorcise the fear of not succeeding, with a blue bic extrafine found by chance in a drawer. I let the bad thoughts on paper, one by one, and it was like remove a brick from the wall. I wrote to my son, I tried to explain who I was and who I wanted to be, because those who were at that moment I was not clear. Or maybe I did not like and that's it.
E 'lasted two months. Then the ink is finished. What nonsense ... but I found another blue bic extra fine and I have not written anything.
So was born the blog.
Saturday I found this notebook. I started listening, as if I was afraid to feel the breath of my guilt behind the neck. Instead came the dwarf with a blue piece of plasticine in one hand and a toy car in the other. "Mom ... I did ualo!" and laughed. I took the
pigolina bouncer, hon turned on the stereo and started to dance with my children.
guilt, probably frightened by a chick dancing Placebo with two dwarfs, it is up to the spot.
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