I choose not be a victim anymore. To stop thinking like a victim. To stop believing I have no power and that I can’t influence the results.

I chose to leave the old project. I decided to leave the company. I decided I wouldn’t spend a lot of time in the new company. And I decided to return.
I chose to go to IT. I decided to finish that school and graduate in time.

I decided to have the kid and it was the best decision ever. And I knew they would both be girls!
I decided to get married and I have been married for almost 5 years. Still surviving.
(by the way, my parents had divorced and then gotten married again by the time they were 29).

I decided to go to Therapy and am still going.

I guess I even decided to be born a girl, so that my parents would have a second try for a boy, and my brother came up. So he owes me big time!
I decided I’m not a lesbian. Not even bisexual.

I am NOT a victim.
I am the result of the decisions I took over time. Some were stupid, some were painful. There is a lesson I gotta learn.

Take the responsability – You’re not a victim – You’re no to blame – You have the power

Robbie Williams – No regrets

 

P.S. I know I wouldn’t have gottenĀ here without my kids and friends . So lots of love to you!

Dreams are open doors of the soul. Nightmares have a purpose :)

What are my demons? Saturn left Scorpio, leaving me tormented.

5 years I was a hard working person, appreciated by peers and bosses. Then I had kids and stayed at home. I used that time for some courses and for taking my certification.
After I returned, everything was different, The people, the company, the projects. And my motivation. I still liked what I did, though it was difficult with so many stupid rules and so many products. And then the announcement came: some people needed to go. I felt my position was insecure, so I left with some mates for another project.
Things were really new – a different side of IT, the way to do things, the work methodology. The manager appreciated me, but my team-leader did not. The project itself was frustrating and didn’t seem to have any future. So I left after half an year to another company, hoping to do something more familiar. It wasn’t the case. Although the working environment was really nice and the coleagues were ok, I didn’t feel I belonged there. The first 2 weeks I had several panic attacks… daily. It was painful to leave the familiar places and the familiar people.
It was really hard to leave the company in which I had been working for so many years, but it was a good thing than deciding to switch companies and projects, I learnt there was still life after my old project.
At this new company, things weren’t going very well. Teeth became my biggest health problem. Somehow, I solved teeth and the rest.
And then I was fired, the company had financial problems, so they let go a lot of people.
It was mid December when it happened. I was shocked, but considered it to be the best things that happened to me in 2014.
Yes, it was a good thing that I had been fired, otherwise I don’t know if I would’ve left.

After the Holidays, there came interviews. First offer came from the old company, for a brand new project that promised to use my networking knowledge. I discussed with several companies, yet that project seemed really appealing. So I signed the contract and started work.
That was a very stressful period, with 2-3 interviews per day, and a lot of psychological stress – my parents and in-laws didn’t know I was jobless, I tried to keep appearances. Each interview was like an exam. It was painful and fearful to discover that my knowledge was not enough, my soft skills weren’t very good, and what I had been happily doing for some years is no longer of interest. I was frightened about the money, being used with some financial independece; with my relatioves’reaction if I were to stay at home longer. I didn’t feel a good mother at all, and I know I’m not a good house keeper.
I was really tormented in that period… felt like a failure, and this goes on.
For this new job is so much different than what it seemed. The daily meetings put a huge pressure on my shoulders- I’m supposed to show what I’ve worked, or watch a presentation and then remember 30-45 minutes of data. I get home very late and my kids are not happy, so they put up tantrums or they wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I’m not happy either, it’s depressing to see everybody leaving office while I’m still trying stuff and sending mails.
And the work… it’s like nobody read my CV before hiring me. It felt more like a developer’s job in the beginning. I’ve running all my life from programming and it caught me eventually. Well, I’d rather learn Chinese, the Mandarin seems more tangible.

So, I’m doing something I don’t know and which I don’t like, and the money isn’t great either. I leave home at 8 and get back at 20:30. How the hell am I gonna find motivation for this?
I’m 32 and don’t know anything else that would bring me money. I’d start on learning Montessori for 0-3 years, but I lack the time and money. And I have a family to take care of.

I wanna run away from the IT world, from the corporations. I don’t wanna work in a corporation anymore. Learn and learn and learn and still get nowhere.
Stay at least 8 hours on a chair, while my body screams: Get up! Write mails and reports, have the meetings, feel so stupid and embarassed in front of younger coleagues who “know it”. Why don’t I know it? It’s not that I’ve been lazy, I just know different stuff. In 2-3 years, we’ll all have to learn something else. And so on.
But I want real things, things that won’t change just because someone moved an X to the center of a page.
I want people, not computers. Real, not abstract.

So how do I get over this dichotomy? Or just over feeling and being a failure? I’ve got an age, and a family, and I’m as if I had left college yesterday. Not knowing, not understanding. And not wanting it.
I have taken a wrong decision when picking the college, it seemed the right decision back then. Actually, it was the only decision. But what do I do NOW?

What do I do now… I feel I definitely need a vacation, a psychological one…

Sarah McClane – Gloomy SUNday

You create misery

Insanity means losing myself, not knowing who I am and losing contact with reality.
Insanity is my biggest fear. Bigger than fear of water, height, dark, speed, fall and the rest. Even than death, at least death would find ME.
Insanity is insidious. But I’m not insane.
I may not know who I am, but I haven’t lost contact with reality.
Maybe that’s why all the others have shut themselves. This is the biggest threat, right? Losing myself.

last night’s dream:
I was with D. on top of a vehicle that would take us to France.
We were on top of hays of green grass.
The vehicle was moving really fast over rivers and hops, we were holding onto each other and holding onto the hays. The landscapes were beautiful, but we didn’t pay much attention, as we could have fallen easily.
When the vehicle stopped, we were in front of some paper constructions, which wanted to imitate some luxury buildings. Us and several other couples, all visiting France.
And the dream kinda ended there.

I wasn’t scared of the speed, or that I might have fallen. I wasn’t thrilled of going to France, either, although I’ve never been there. I didn’t feel anything.

In stark contrast, last evening was so full of overwhelming emotions.
Really big panic attack. And the tears, although they didn’t bring any relief.

I wanna run away
And never say goodbye

But I can’t run anymore. Not even in real life.
I’m stuck and can only rotate in the same position. Until when?

I find it hard to breathe.
It happens several times a day.

There are things harder than writing programs in Java:
– reading Aristotle’s Metaphysics
– weaning a baby (but I did it!)
– learning Chinese (i’d rather do that)

Kosheen – Damage (dedication to myself)

The way a child is brought up will leave permanent marks on the brain.
The same applies to depression.

31+18=49 de zile dintr-un an nou.
Un an care a inceput foarte greu. Ca si anul anterior. Ca si cel de dinainte. Si celalalt…
Ce se intampla de anii nu devin mai usor de dus?

Mai greu. Iarasi greu. Tot greu.
Si nu se termina. Fiecare an, fiecare luna, fiecare saptamana.
Fiecare zi e o mare batalie
A marii batalii ce o duc
Zi de zi…

Au trecut aproape 15 ani de cand am scris cuvintele astea si sunt tot valabile.
Fiecare zi e o batalie. Nu stiu cand voi ajunge acasa, nu stiu cand ma voi culca, nu stiu daca voi tipa. Nu stiu daca ma voi descurca.
Failure is not an option. It never was.
Fiecare noapte e o batalie.
Fiecare noapte vine cu cate un cosmar. Deja al 3-lea vis cu caini care incearca sa ma muste. Vis in care eram pe o platforma, sus, cu parintii si frate-meu. Acelasi vis, in care priveam radacinile unui copac – se surpase pamantul si se facuse gaura la radacina lui. In intunericul de sub pamant, am vazut animalele noptii, animalele intunericului, printre care si 3 diavoli tasmanieni. Si probabil ca erau sobolani si lilieci.
Alt vis, eram in apa inghetata, aproape de burta mare a unui animal marin.

Impropriu zis cosmaruri.

In vise nu-mi e teama. Nici de caini, nici de intuneric, nici de inaltime, nici de apa sau de inghet.
De fapt, nu simt nimic.
In vise, nu mi-e teama pentru ca nu mi-e teama sau pentru ca nu simt nimic?
In viata reala, simt o multime de lucruri, de cele mai multe as vrea sa scap, cum scapi cand te scarpini de ceva. Si totusi, cele mai multe lucruri pe care le simt… nu le simt – zgarie o suprafata si atat.

Nu stiu daca asta e depresie, pentru ca nu am trait niciodata o asemenea depresie. Cea in care totul e useless si nici macar nu ma pot revolta, pentru ca eu am ales asa, pentru ca eu am dus lucrurile aici.
E un pas inainte – celelalte depresii le-au cauzat altii, asta ar fi doar a mea. E bine, iau responsabilitatea.

Ma imaginez fiind precum Kirsten Dunst in “Melancholia”. Am momente in care sunt incapabila de orice. Noroc ca am copii si nu ma lasa. Noroc ca peste Kirsten a venit planeta Melancholia.
Peste mine n-are cine veni. Inseamna ca tot eu trebuie sa ma scot de aici.

 

Who are you? Wearing Angel perfume, wearing lipstick and make-up, wearing my face? Taking self photos in the mirror? Moving body and rejoicing it.

Mi-am descoperit filonul de pitzipoanca. Poze cu moaca mea. De fapt, sunt curioasa cum arat, cum ma vad oamenii. Cum ma vad eu. Parca nu mi-am mai privit chipul de mult timp.
Am iesit ieri cu ruj pe buze. M-am simtit cumva dezbracata. La inceput, aveam impresia ca toti se uita la mine. Apoi, mi-a trecut.

Machiajul, persuasiunea, dulceata, intr-un cuvant, seductia si alte subtilitati femeiesti au fost mereu departe de mine. Nu-i corect sa arati o varianta imbunatatita cand tu, de fapt, nu esti asa “buna”, nu-i asa? Nu-i corect sa zambesti dulce si sa incerci sa negociezi. De ce sa folosesti tertipuri in loc sa spui direct ce anume vrei? Vreau 50% din aia, nu vreau sa castig, vreau sa nu pierd. Ia fiecare 50%.
In mintea mea, sunt clare lucrurile.

Dar lumea reala nu functioneaza ca in capul meu. Cand eu cer 50%, mi se ofera 25%. Celalalt vrea sa castige cat mai mult, cu cat mai putina osteneala. Trebuie sa fiu gata sa negociez, sa conving, sa vand cum pot, cu blandete, cu fermitate, sa fiu “om de lume”. Adica ceea ce nu sunt.
Doamne, cum mi-as dori sa fiu mai abila dpdv social, sa-i pot aduce pe oameni unde vreau fara sa am sentimentul ca as fi falsa sau ca ar fi ceva impotriva dorintei lor. Mai ales ca acolo vor si ei sa ajunga – la discutie, la negociere. Dar nu vreau sa negociez, nu ma pricep la asta. Vreau cei 50% al meu si sa nu pierd, si sa nu pierzi nici tu.

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Machiajul ma deprima. De cate ori incep sa machiez ochii, imi vad sprancenele rare. Ma rujez si vad imediat imperfectiunile buzelor mele. Ce sa mai zic de ten (pe-ala oricum nu-l machiez niciodata). De ce m-as machia? Ca sa fiu si mai constienta de imperfectiunea mea? Si totusi… buzele mele par mai vii cand sunt mai colorate. S-au dus zilele cand lumea ma intreba daca m-am dat cu ruj, si ele erau naturale. Iar cu ochii… habar n-am cum sa-i machiez.
Habar n-am cum sa fiu femeie, de fapt.

Toata puterea femeii sta in seductie, imi zicea cineva. Ori eu nu stiu sa seduc. Nu mi se pare corect. Imi amintesc ca, totusi, imi placea sa ma joc, dar nu stiam cum. N-am avut niciodata pe cine sa-mi ascut unghiutele, n-am avut prieteni in friend-zone, am avut doar prieteni. Am petrecut mai mult timp cu baieti, printre baieti. La naiba, vad femeile din punctul de vedere al unui baiat.

Puterea femeilor sta in slabiciunea lor – serios? Am vazut destule femei puternice, incepand cu mama. Mai puternice decat barbatii lor, atat de puternice incat ajungeau sa-i striveasca pe barbati. Dar niciodata nu erau constient de puterea lor, nu indrazneau sa devina constiente. Societatea, alcatuita in special din alte femei, nu le-ar fi permis asta. A recunoaste ca femeia avea putere, puterea ei, ar fi ridicat prea multe semne de intrebare pentru celelalte femei. Teama ca barbatii ar afla si ar da si mai multe lucruri de facut femeilor. Sau teama ca… femeia aia puternica nu e femeie, nu e suficient de femeie.

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Ah, Iulia, Iulia… inca imi amintesc cand mi-ai zis ca de la spate par un baiat. Si de bunico, imi amintesc, zicandu-mi ca sunt puternica, sunt mai puternica decat fratii mei, si de-aia eu trebuie sa am grija de familia mea. Si pe tine, tata, mi te amintesc spunand de atatea ori ca aranjatul, machiatul, imbracatul sunt ocupatii pentru alea care n-au nimic in cap, pentru alea care umbla numai dupa p**a, pentru curve. In totala opozitie cu mama, care zicea “nu suntem frumoase, dar ne putem imbunatati un pic cu haine, cu coafura”. Mama si neamul ei, care ma toca la fiecare intalnire ca nu m-am pieptanat, nu stau dreapta, merg ca un baiat.
Tata, care era asa speriat de femei, incat si-acum le compune poezii misogine.
Mama, care uraste barbatii, mai ales rudele si pe-aia cu care s-a casatorit.

De unde sa stiu eu ca o sa ma nasc intr-un razboi al sexelor? Si inca unul complet ascuns si orb celor din jur. Nu-i de mirare ca am crezut ca ma atrag mai mult femeile pana am ajuns cu una si am descoperit ca da, lipseste ceva. Nu-i de mirare ca am incercat sa subordonez si sa controlez tipii cu care am fost, ingrasandu-i si castrandu-i psihic, dupa modelul invatat de la mama.

“There, I fixed you. Acum stai sa te parasesc si sa te arunc intr-o depresie. Dup-aia slabeste si responsabilizeaza-te si fa-te mai awesome decat ai fost vreodata cand erai cu mine.”

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Mnu, n-am baut nimic. Acuma, de ce naiba scriu eu asa ceva pe un blog public? As putea sa fac o postare privata, pe care sa o vad doar eu. Dar nu, eu vreau sa-mi exorcizez demonii. Sa-i pun intr-o carte ar fi fain, insa n-am ajuns inca la subtilitati din alea. Inca nu stiu sa negociez, inca mi se pare o slabiciune feminina, si eu nu vreau sa fiu slaba (nici macar fizic).
Femeile care au ajuns sa conduca, care si-au folosit slabiciunea ca pe o putere, erau frumoase si aveau ceva in cap. Alea care aveau mult in cap si prea putina frumusete erau in pozitii foarte inalte (precum Cleopatra). Acum, eu nu sunt nici frumoasa, n-am nici foarte multe in cap, pozitie inalta nici atat.
Fac umbra pamantului, incercand sa-mi gasesc un scop.

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P.S. Daca peste ani si ani, copiii mei vor citi ce-am scris si vor fi socati, inseamna ca pe undeva n-am facut ceva bine.
In privinta lor, imi doresc 2 lucruri: sa stie ca ii iubesc oricum (indiferent de note, de alegeri sexuale/maritale, de cat de frumoase/destepte ar fi) si sa stie ca sunt puternice SI destepte SI frumoase, si nimeni sa nu le poata lua increderea asta.

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Stii tu, “Titanium”. As pune link-uri, din pacate, Snakey nu mai merge updatat cu Flash si restul.

Ma uit la cer si parca n-ar fi iarna.
E marti? A trecut fix o saptamana de cand mi s-a clatinat viata.
S-a clatinat, s-a tulburat, o sa-i dau eu de cap.

Pentru ca sunt puternica. Si pentru ca suntem.
Pentru prima oara, pot spune cu tarie ca “suntem”. It’s not just me against the world.
Sunt eu cu familia mea restransa, si cu prietenii mei.
Am sprijin emotional, sprijin financiar.
Nu ma ia nimeni in suturi, nu-mi spune nimeni ca sunt proasta si nu stiu nimic, ca am gresit plecand din L. Nu se panicheaza nimeni ca ce se va intampla, daca raman neangajata, macar sa retrag copiii de la gradinita. Nu va pune nimeni (sper!) presiune pe mine, mai mare decat cea pe care o simt deja.

Sunt puternica. Desi visez in continuare ca am 30 de ani si sunt singura si nu ma ia nimeni.
Nu ma face o concediere, nici boala lui TM (presiune suplimentara).

Imi place ca oamenii au mai multa incredere in mine decat am eu. Ce vad ei si nu vad eu?
Ei vad ce as putea face, eu stiu cum le fac.

Inca nu reusesc sa fiu dincolo de dezamagirea de a nu fi pe tipar. Dezamagire ca eu, Alex, sunt asa si asa, si nu altfel. La ce-mi foloseste intuitia foarte buna, o oarecare cunoastere a oamenilor? Cand mi se cere, cand imi cer, sa fiu “organizata/orientata spre rezultat/responsabila/capabila sa spuna NU si sa stie cand sa-l spuna/proactiva/atitudine pozitiva, optimista”.

Sunt un INFP care devine ESTJ in momente dificile. Partea buna e ca STJ sunt buni organizatori.
Partea rea e ca am peste 30 de ani si inca duc batalii dificile cu mine insami sa ma accept.
Sa ma accept doar. Pana la a ma iubi, e o cale foarte lunga. Poate voi ajunge vreodata si acolo.

Aici copiii joaca un rol foarte important. Copiii si animalele te iubesc neconditionat. Chiar daca le iei jucaria, chiar daca tipi la ei sau ii sperii, ei tot te iubesc. Le multumesc nespus ca ma invata sa iubesc zi de zi si din ce in ce mai mult. Chiar si cand ma supar pe ele, chiar si cand ma lovesc sau imi pare ca-si bat joc de eforturile mele. Ele descopera lumea si, implicit, si pe mine.
Cu ele ma descopar si eu.
Daca niste fiinte asa minunate ma iubesc, inseamna ca fac ceva bine, nu doar ca le-am dat viata.

Haide, Alex :) vei fi bine, va fi bine. Nu mai esti un copil fara sprijin si fara adapost emotional. Nici nu mai trebuie sa ai grija de o familie care se intinde peste posibilitatile tale mentale si emotionale.
Acum esti un adult cu sprijin si adapost emotional. Acum esti tu adultul care sprijina si alege sa sprijine voluntar.

:) Sarbatori fericite!

_________________________________________________________
Remember:

I am not alone.
I am strong. I am smart. I am CAPABLE.
Things just happen.
Be flexible.
Remember who you are and what you can be.
I am surrounded by love and I am worth loving.

De ce adultii sunt atat de suparati pe cuvinte folosite de copii? Sau pe loviturile date de copii?
Aceiasi adulti care arunca asa usor etichete sau cuvinte “urate”. Aceiasi adulti care imprastie asa usor palme la fund…

Ma supara foarte tare ca, uneori, si eu sunt un adult de-asta irational si obosit.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Ma oftic ca am azi am plecat cam in graba si am fost cam nervoasa si am grabit-o pe Irina si i-am inchis sertarul in forta…

Ma oftic ca nu mi-am dat seama cat de important e ptr Miruna ritualul de dimineata, mai ales cand sunt grabita/nervoasa si ea obosita – scos gecile, pus papuceii ei (totul jos), apoi urcam la etaj si stam un pic cu Irina, apoi coboram si ne pupam si ii deschid usa sa intre…

Azi m-am inversunat sa nu urc, mai ales ca uitasem hartia de ochi in taxi (am rugat taximetristul sa ma astepte, ca sa merg mai departe cu el). Si ea urcase cu Irina pana la jumatatea scarilor cand m-am intors cu hartia, si plangea “mami, hai sus” si eu am plecat…

Ma oftic ca i-am zis Irinei sa ma pupe si apoi i-am zis “termina odata cu pupatul”, ptr ca Miruna plangea sa o iau in brate…

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Here I am, working on Saturday (yes, now I’m waiting for the chassis to recover, that’s why this post…).
A previous post was about a grey day. Well, yesterday got indeed lighter.

Indiferent de problema, indiferent cata incredere ati avea intr-un medic (sau in el, ca om), mergeti si cereti a 2-a parere.
S-ar putea sa fie ceva mai grav decat vi s-a zis prima oara, sau s-ar putea sa fie ceva mai usor.
S-ar putea sa nu fie nevoie de o interventie chirugicala (chiar si la dinti, nu e deloc, Deloc placut).
Sau, in loc sa fie “doar” cancer, s-ar putea sa fie cancer cu metastaze.
Macar aflati si vedeti ce de e facut.

A 2-a parere mi-ar fi salvat multi dinti si multe probleme dupa.
A 2-a parere ar fi scapat-o pe matusa-mea de situatia in care se afla acum. A 2-a parere acum ii va spune (probabil) exact la ce sa se astepte. Mi-e frica sa ma duc dupa rezultatele alea, dar stiu ca politica strutului nu ajuta la nimic.

Informare
Asumare
Actiune

Never lose hope.

“misterul camerei gabene rezumat roman”

Nu, nu, nu. Nu asa se face.
Nu citi niciodata un rezumat al vreunei carti politiste sau al vreunui thriller. De obicei, aceste carti nu exceleaza in poezie sau lirism, punctul lor forte e intriga, eventual construirea din detalii a unui caracter. Si daca povestesti intriga, dai indicii clare despre faptas si despre deznodamant.
Citeste DESPRE un roman politist, o introducere in actiunea lui, dar nu citi un rezumat.

Cat despre “Misterul camerei galbene”, e o carte de citit chiar si pentru cei carora nu le plac romanele politiste. Pentru ca nu este (doar) un roman politist. Poate fi citit ca un roman psihologic sau ca unul de moravuri (ale epocii sale, desigur).

Ah, dar ca sa nu fie complet dezamagiti cei care cauta rezumatul acestei carti, le voi spune ca faptasul este… NIMENI. Desi cineva aproape a murit. Cum asa?? Citeste cartea :)

Recapitulare lucruri realizate (2013-2014)
– am rezistat unui 1 an de tandem = foarte putin somn, foarte multe intreruperi, foarte multe crize si tantrumuri, foarte multa presiune psihica din exterior si din interior
– am rezistat mai mult de 6 luni, dintre care 2 de tandem, de dus+luat copiii de la gradinita, fugit la munca, numeroase treziri nocturne
– am schimbat 2 locuri de munca cu colegi noi si lucruri total noi de invatat, chestii sociale de invatat
– m-am intors la 1 loc de munca cu colegi mai vechi si lucruri foarte noi de invatat, reguli stricte de urmat
– multe atacuri de panica, chiar si cate 3 intr-o zi = multa anxietate, multa frica
– numeroase acute si probleme de santatate (ameteli frecvente si pierderea echilibrului; infectie cu puroi in tot obrazul care da la iveala o alta infectie, care incepuse sa manance din os; ciclu care nu vine+greata+ameteli+presiune pe perineu+test negativ, ce naiba am?; criza de bila/rinichi?; lichid la genunchi si dureri de genunchi la orice miscare si apoi la orice exercitiu fizic; arsuri pe esofag)
– varicela merita un loc aparte = am trecut peste primele zile fara sa ma scarpin prea tare, fara crema de scarpinat, fara sa pot dormi 2 nopti deloc, din cauza bubelor de sub pielea capului, fara sa fac vreo complicatie si am reusit sa re-citesc toata seria Dune
– prietenii inca nu m-au parasit, desi acum chiar incap pe o singura mana
– 6 luni de terapie and still going
– visele cu ursi nu mai sunt asa haunting
– imi inteleg parintii mai bine
– trec mai repede peste cuvinte aruncate la furie, nu mai pastrez ranchiuna asa mult, nu mai adun cuvinte urate sa mi le amintesc in perioadele negre
– inca rezist la numeroase treziri nocturne

 

Si-acum sa-mi fac curaj sa intalnesc un chirurg dentist.

 

I’ve been here for too long
Got to let go!

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