Este debe ser -por mucho- el momento más difícil de mi vida, donde lucho por destrabarme, por volver a encajar en mí mismo, donde intento la disciplina de las cosas que no me gustan, pero que según la receta del "estar bien", debo realizar.
Seré redundante con la frase, pero en aquellas palabras noto mi desbarajuste y también el que a diario luche por justamente estar bien, por decir con algo de verdad que estoy bien y por sentirme en calma.
Es brutalmente difícil saberse las teorías de cómo mejorar, tener medidos, sabidos, internalizados, los ejercicios para volver a ser quien te gustaba ser y no sentirte nada cerca de aquel humano que no sufría y que era tan alegre.
Hay una energía que lo explica mejor que yo y que se siente cuando desvío la mirada, cuando la voz no sale con fuerza, cuando te apuras en no detenerte para que nadie sospeche que le estás poniendo ganas, pese a que nada ni nadie te sale y sigues adelante sin hallar medicinas en los alientos propios, ni ajenos, porque -repito- te sabes de memoria lo que dice la gente y lo que con optimismo te repites tú mismo y no te funciona.
Ningún sermón te sirve y al mismo tiempo deja de tener sentido oír una y otra vez frases motivacionales que vas esquivando, porque es que no son de tu medida, porque quizá te quedan grande, o te quedan pequeñas. Y si eres analítico, buscas una explicación lógica y es decepcionante hacer un arqueo de probabilidades y no ver algo razonable en los caminos que se fueron cerrando, en los que se fueron yendo, en el progreso detenido y demorado con el que escasamente duermes, descansas y logras sostener para no rendirte.
Suena a negatividad y no lo es, porque seguiste las fórmulas, te nació ser alguien de bien y es como que la vida se encaprichara, por karma, porque le dio la gana, porque claro que sabes que nadie sale vivo de la vida, pero hay un daño injustificable en lo que te sucede.
Con resignación les digo que no hay palabras bonitas, ni regaños efectivos, cuando uno está sumido en ese trance de que no ves cerca a esa persona a la que no le sucedían estas cosas.
Lo peor es que aún sin decir nada, todavía sin esperar nada de nadie, las personas se te alejan..., ellos no tienen idea que estás así, pero te abandonan, y el problema no es que necesites de ellos, el lío viene cuando ves el éxodo masivo de gentes de tu vida y no entiendes por qué sucede, por qué te dejan.
Es como una estampida y tú eres quien la ocasionó, sin embargo, no los trataste mal, no los traicionaste, intentaste la fidelidad, la cercanía, la educación, la reciprocidad, la empatía y hasta fuiste las palabras que sí les hizo progresar, pero tú eres, por alguna extraña y desconocida razón, quien provocó que se alejaran con algo que estás impedido de ver.
Fue así que, de pronto, dejaron de responder, te dan por hecho, ya no están, los buscas y nada ocurre, te evaden y así esté justificado cada adiós, no te dijeron nada, al menos para saber el motivo. Uno hasta entiende que ellos pueden estar en algo similar a lo que te ocurre, y te tratas de acercar a sus lejanías y claro, obvio, no funciona.
Es como si te viesen como el cobarde que no hará nada por alejarse, porque tú siempre fuiste cortés, recurrente, siempre los entendiste. Es solo una conjetura.
Hay tantos esfuerzos escondidos detrás de la frase "estoy bien", decirla con absoluta verdad representa un momento de superación que no tengo del todo y me duele el tampoco poseer una explicación de por qué nada de lo que intento sale bien con ligera permanencia.
Aun sabiendo escribir, no sé si me explico, mas lo dudo, porque yo tampoco lo entiendo del todo.
Estas líneas no son para decir que me voy a rendir, soy muy terco para darle la razón a lo inhóspito. Quizá alguien halle un espejo en mi sentir y se sienta igual, o hasta haya hecho méritos para salir de su meollo.
Yo lo estoy intentando, incluso -como ya dije- las cosas que no me gustan. He sido disciplinado ejecutando lo que me dicen, lo que leo y me suena lógico, de todo un poco he hecho sin un resultado alentador.
Cuando me vean, o lean, hagan caso omiso a este desahogo.
Cierro diciendo que momentáneamente estoy más tranquilo, igual de reservado, desconfiado y eternamente esperanzado en las diferentes buenas acciones que hago para justamente no pagarle a otros con la moneda sin valor que me ha dado tanta gente.
This must be -by far- the most difficult moment of my life, where I struggle to untangle myself, to fit back into myself, where I try to discipline the things that I do not like, but that according to the recipe of "being well", I must do.
I will be redundant with the phrase, but in those words I notice my disarray and also the fact that every day I struggle just to be well, to say with some truth that I am well and to feel calm.
It is brutally difficult to know the theories of how to improve, to have measured, known, internalized, the exercises to return to be who you liked to be and not feel anything close to that human who did not suffer and who was so happy.
There is an energy that explains it better than me and that is felt when I look away, when my voice does not come out with strength, when you hurry not to stop so that nobody suspects that you are trying hard, even though nothing and nobody comes out and you go on without finding medicine in your own breath, nor in the breath of others, because -I repeat- you know by heart what people say and what you repeat to yourself with optimism and it does not work for you.
No sermon works for you and at the same time it no longer makes sense to hear over and over again motivational phrases that you avoid, because they do not fit you, because maybe they are too big for you, or too small. And if you are analytical, you look for a logical explanation and it is disappointing to make an analysis of probabilities and not see something reasonable in the paths that were closing, in those that were leaving, in the stopped and delayed progress with which you barely sleep, rest and manage to sustain in order not to give up.
It sounds like negativity and it is not, because you followed the formulas, you were born to be someone good and it is as if life was infatuated, by karma, because it felt like it, because of course you know that no one gets out of life alive, but there is an unjustifiable damage in what happens to you.
With resignation I tell you that there are no nice words, nor effective scoldings, when one is submerged in that trance that you do not see close to that person to whom these things did not happen.
The worst thing is that even without saying anything, even without expecting anything from anyone, people move away from you..., they have no idea that you are like this, but they abandon you, and the problem is not that you need them, the mess comes when you see the massive exodus of people from your life and you do not understand why it happens, why they leave you.
It is like a stampede and you are the one who caused it, however, you did not treat them badly, you did not betray them, you tried fidelity, closeness, education, reciprocity, empathy and you were even the words that made them progress, but you are, for some strange and unknown reason, the one who caused them to leave with something that you are unable to see.
So, suddenly, they stopped responding, they take you for granted, they are no longer there, you look for them and nothing happens, they evade you and even if every goodbye is justified, they didn't tell you anything, at least to know the reason. You even understand that they may be in something similar to what is happening to you, and you try to get closer to their distances and of course, obviously, it does not work.
It's as if they see you as the coward who won't do anything to get away, because you were always polite, recurrent, you always understood them. It's just a guess.
There are so many efforts hidden behind the phrase "I'm fine", to say it with absolute truth represents a moment of overcoming that I don't have at all and it hurts me to also not possess an explanation of why nothing I try comes out well with slight permanence.
Even if I know how to write, I don't know if I explain myself, but I doubt it, because I don't fully understand it either.
These lines are not to say that I am going to give up, I am too stubborn to give reason to the inhospitable. Maybe someone finds a mirror in my feelings and feels the same way, or has even made merits to get out of its core.
I am trying, even - as I said - the things I don't like. I have been disciplined in executing the things I am told, what I read and it sounds logical, I have done a little bit of everything without an encouraging result.
When you see me, or read me, disregard this venting. I close by saying that momentarily I am calmer, just as reserved, distrustful and eternally hopeful in the different good deeds I do in order not to pay others with the worthless currency that so many people have given me.
