Translation: Laura Prezzi
She sleeps with me every night. Whether I’m accompanied or not, I always count on her presence. In the morning when I wake up, sometimes we have breakfast together. We walk holding hands all the time. When I get tired, I try to escape but she has the shape of my shadow and the more I run the more she chases me.
Between the hugs a confused mother gives and the shared cigars with worried friends, she stays with me: the depression. The only one that feeds my most
improbable fears and loves anxiety more than me, and the control of my being starts being guided by a muppet show. Being the protagonist of the most incoherent daydreams, I believed that I was too tired to live. Poor me, that at 20 years old couldn’t see colour…
After comes the guilt, the one that breaks an already weak heart. She was a caravel that ripped the ocean so deep by the pain she carried. Nobody told me it would be this difficult… Why is it that I can’t breathe? Something so simple and human that is out of my reach. Where did I fail myself? I remembered the hugs I gave my mother and how much I would have liked to have hugged her tighter and the cigarettes exchanged where I could’ve said I needed help. I remembered that, more than having a depression, I have myself, the best company I could ask for.
I looked at her from a different perspective, constructing an image of someone who knew every corner of the ocean. I personified someone confident, that is almost a lost fisherman in a storm. A fisherman that on his front door always tells his family he’s coming back. Even if he is unsure of the circumstances of life, he always makes the same promise, just like I did. Him and I believe that in the middle of the torment the familiar and salty waves bring us back to land, where there is not a shadow, but an infinite that takes us to the unknown. This is what they say to be a place where the sun comes up every day, where there is hope and the heat of a house that was born.
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