to 2015, about 2014


[Is it awkward that blogging feels awkward because I very seldom do it? Why do I even have blogs? Seriously, like.]

So yep, I don't blog a lot, but this year has been intense, and I kind of want to wrap it up a bit. Not with a party, no. More like, with a bit of thinking.
Here's a tip, now: the best way to organize your ideas is to verbalize them having in mind as heterogeneous a public as you cat get. Yeah, I mean "the Internet".

Let's go back to the intenseness of this year, so. Umh.

2014 didn't start well for me, my family, or the people I was close to at the time.
And then, it didn't get better.

Generally speaking, I spent the first few months wishing that at the New Years' Eve celebration, somehow, I had been tranported to some shitty parallel reality, from which I'd eventually come back. So maybe I'm still trapped here...
But to be honest, right now I believe that would have been too good. "Good" didn't belong to my 2014.

Because of this, I think that I'm going to make a list and I also think that it will be no easy task. But nice things are there even if we fail to notice them (that wasn't me, it was a mantra thingy. I'm miserable and bitter. Optimism is for tossers. And so on), so I'm going to write down the things that happened during 2014 and which make me feel good.

- Hyuna. All about her.
- Going back to work with kids. They're honest little people.
- Fiding out friends. As in, realising for the first time that a certain individual is a true friend who values me and worries about my wellbeing, and whom I value and about whose wellbeing I worry.
- My Degree End Research Project. Lexical borrowing processes from Old English to the Renaissance, if ay of you want to throw some ideas.
- Seeing again people I'd missed.
- Having money. This is one if the things that has changed most since last Christmas. And it may sound as crappy as you like, but feeling ok about my economic status rather that it keeping me from sleeping- a blessing. And being able to buy things, both for me and for other people, and from other people, nice.
- I've read a lot this year. Highlight: I've discovered Terry Pratchet. Oh, is he good.

That's it.

Now, to this coming year, I'd like to ask one single thing: let us all find out that the decisions we made in 2014 were the right ones.
I've got no resolutions and no promises to make in return for that favour, so the only thing I can offer is the knowledge that, upon taking those decisions, I did the best I could. I hope that's enough and if it's not, then there's nothing I can change anyway.


I'll just write here a bit

... because I like blogging.

I do, really.

My constancy sucks, but so does everything else :)

Now, to the matter.

I've probably told here before of my job in summer camps.
So well, I came back from Ireland earlier this year, generally speaking, because everything sucks, and it's summer now. That means summer job. That means summer camp.

That means children.
Oh, yes, those.

I don't think I can hate them any more than I already do.

I mean, they've got this way of asking things and you don't realise and suddenly you are not taking advantage of your free afternoons to study for your September exams anymore, because instead you are writing a play and making the costumes and stage decorations for that play and you are also planning a camping trip with them and you are also thinking of effective ways of teaching them how to draw elvish warriors riding dragons, when you can't even draw that yourself and they get frustrated in step one- draw an oval.

["Why do you always get your ovals right?"
"My oval looks like a potato, I'm gonna start over." *takes a new piece of paper*
"But how do you draw an oval?"
"Don't say you just learnt, someone must have taught you to properly draw ovals"
"This is impossible- can't we draw a face without an oval?"]

I don't think every person dealing with children ends up like this... there must be some secret word or something, to stop them from having ideas...



Memories (and you may all go and decide I'm a nerd now- I'm still a proud one.)

In these past days, two unrelated yet very related memories came back to me.

First one I remembered the other day (I actually think it was yesterday, but my perception of time is so very messed up lately, I can never know). I was FB texting the Firetruck (that annoying being- I can only picture his stupid perpetual smile, but everytime I talk to him he is crossed, or sarcastic, or sad, or an emo, or not happy in any other way. And he is too amazing for that shit)and at one point he said the following:
"[P]oor you, spending your time in an studyship you chose in order to find a job you love."

And it reminded me. it remimded me of my 20 year old "self" (who was barely a self at all), that miserable thing, being put to study English without even being asked about it. Of course I didn't say a thing, because, well, I do love what I am doing, but I remembered, I felt. I felt the urge to escape that life people were shaping for me without my consent, I remembered hating it and everybody so much.

That's my first memory.

My second memory arised after the community reunion this morning, or maybe two weeks ago. There exists this omnipresent talkative neighbour (she tends to be there when my mother's reserve is saving me some embarrasment, and likes to compensate), and my birthday is about to come, so of course she started relating her -very reshaped- memories of my childhood. And it brought my own back.
She was narrating how much I loved being cared for by her daughter and how happy I was at those times, and it made me picture myself being happy while I did that that made me happy.
I... developed writing systems, inventing their symbold, deciding what sounds were and were not represented (for they were writing systems for imagined languagues), and which ones were to be written in dygraphs.
I also read enciclopaedia entries and investigated the evolution of letters and their different shapes in the écritures of old times. I looked at them and enjoyed the fascination they made me feel.
I asked my mom to write things for me using greek letters so that I could decipher it.
I read Asterix comics in French to try and grasp some of the meaning.
I searched the internet for a glossary of Old Irish words (who wan't modenr languages when there is obsolete ones abound?) and memorised them.
I read an old Latin diccionary and copied down words that I found interesting.

I lived for them, for all the words in all the languages, for all the ways in which both changed, chifted, evolved, all this time.

I quote Christabel LaMotte now.
"Words have been all my life, all my life."



(wow, I wasn't aware I hadn't written here for such a long time)

Actually, I had been thiking of posting some ideas here for the last few days but I had eventually decided not to because there is nothing to gain from "ohmygodmylifesuckssobadI'msomiserable" posts.

But then today life sucked worse that usually, and I still wanted to be a good girl, but my friends wouldn't help me, and suddenly I found myself changin my fb profile picture for one in which I was 14 and suicidal, and then writing a post/joke about my fb page being suicidal itself (in which, for the record, I encouraged it to be strong and not kill itself).

And friends, a friend, one very dear friend who has been really helpful and good to me before, well, him, couldn't think of anything else to do but scol me for laughing at suicide when I'm only just trying hard to ridiculize the idea of my own suicide, because, as it happens, I do wish I wasn't alive. And it's just that it made me feel so bad, because he, well, maybe it was just me being paranoid, but my sensation has been that he wasn't being any great lately, and God, it would help if he were.

So whatever.
Suicide humour sucks, yeah, exactly as much as being me does, and I'm fucking free to laugh at it if I want to, the last thing I need is people making me feel worse.



there's a bunch of stuff that scares me.

Even now, when being in love feels great no matter how unrequited it is (apparently not too much), it terrifies me.

Wasting my only chance to make you love me terrifies me,
Letting you fade away from my life terrifies me,
Screwing our friendship up terrifies me,
Taking steps towards you without your previous consent terrrifies me,
Using pressure until you can not scape terrifies me,
Making you run away terrifies me,
Letting go of you terrifies me,
Repenting terrifies me,
Being so afraid terrifies me,
Not being able to tell what I feel and how I feel it terrifies me,
Feeling this much terrifies me,
The way my friends talk about my terror terrifies me,
Crying about it terrifies me,
The closeness of the day when you'll leave terrifies me,
Not being here when you go terrifies me,
Never getting to kiss you terrifies me,
Not being the one for you if you are the one for me terrifies me,
The estructural deepness of the difference between liking you and liking all the other people I've liked terrifies me,
The cozyness of your gaze terrifies me,
Letting go of your hugs terrifies me,
Dissaponting you terrifies me,
It all terrifies me...

... so much that my body just stop working.

And that terrifies me, too.


What now?

Exactly why has all my reading list disappeared into thin air?

Building it again from scratch is just... tiresome. Ah, and annoying.




But mostly anxious.

Because whem M. and I started planning our future here everything was going to be awesome and great and I even knew who the father of my children was going to be*, and I still believe it's going to be all of that, but making it is not easy at all.

Which kind of felt great at the begining because it was almost like a dare and I'm basque so I love dares, or something, but lately, it's been wasting me just too much.

And I need to keep going. Shit. I need to go even faster and further.
But it's been ages since I run out of spoons for this.

And the good tiny little detais don't feel that good anymore because I'm grown used to them, and the shitty tiny little details make me opressively depressed.

We've made lots of decissions, and have taken one heavy step forward after the other, and right now, I've only got one thing left to do (and yes it's the biggest thing off them all but it is still only one) and after this weekend everything on our part will be done, but we will still be, physically, at the starting point.
And what do you do then? Well, you gather the reamins of your strength and start over again.
And if you've got no remaining stregth left? Well, you either let yourself die in a ditch, or you pretend you do have some left and start over again.

Even if you are too tired to do anything but curling up in a corner and rocking and crying tiny tears.

That big massive only thing I've got left to do happens to be as big and massive as handing my CV in every... everywhere. I was suposed to do it today, but when I looked myself in the mirror I saw a terrible ghost that nobody would ever want to hire. And that's my mian problem right now: I'm so wasted that the fact that I can't do it doesn't matter anymore because even if I did it it'd be useless, given my state.

I might just want a hug and a shoulder to cry on, but I really feel so down I've actually been thinking of letting anxiety get over me and going back home and coming back after summer. Or for summer. Or whatever. And not letting myself do that  is devouring my own stomach and....

I'm going to stop this meaningless whining. (You know what's the worst of all? That I'm still going to publish this because... because...)

*Imagine having an answer for this even without the slightest intention of actually having any children...



What do you do when you can not blurt stuff out in either of your blogs anymore because some of your readers actually have an active rol in your life?

Do you get a new mail accout and start another brand new blog?

Do you just write it on post-its and stick it on your bedroom wall?

Do you click "publish" anyway because you don't give a fuck?

Do you let anxiety get over yourself and buble whatever thing is bothering you while rocking in your corner?

Do you let it unsaid, as you had done all your life before you started blogging? Do you let your annoyance, fear, anxiety and worries control your decission? Do you repent for having ever typed a single word?


I know it's a little late for this, but: New Year's Meme

I got the meme from Voxcorvegis.
Here I come:

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?

I came au-pairing. I stimmed in public being concious of what I was doing. I met M. in person. I let R. kiss me and I cried for him. A. went all the way from Sevilla to my house to visit me.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don't normally do proper new years resolutions. The olny resolution I remember taking last year (as always) is "OK, I'm gonna start seriously studying" and it wasn't realted to the new year, just to the exams the last week of January. I didn't keep it (but I passed everything).

3. How (will you be spending) /did you spend New Year’s Eve?

I had a lovely Spanish dinner with M., J., and L. at L.'s house, we sort of went out and then we all slept together. It was bizarre and nice.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Maki, my dog, died last winter. R.'s dad died too, and F. too. Lot's of deaths, actually...

5. What countries did you visit?


6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?

Sanity. And spoons enough to want to have a couple.

7. What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

August 25, because I felt bad, stupid and ridiculous. September 28 because it's the day I got to Cork and December 23, because there's something it hurts about small coincidences.

8. What was your biggest achievement(s) of the year?

Mhhh... I'm mastering my spoons pretty well... and I passed a subject having opened it's books only the day of the exam.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I don't have spoons enough to want to have a relationship with someone, no matter how much I like them.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Throat infection, as always, a fair share of anxiety, and that's it.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Mh... can't think of anything remarcable. 
12. Where did most of your money go?
13. What song will always remind you of 2012?
Paradise by Coldplay, probably. And Ken Zazpi's Zapalduen Olerkia.
14. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Studying, specially German.
15. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Nothing? Now, literally, nothing, like, spacing out.
16. What was your favorite TV program?
Big Bang Theory, for a change. And, like, from October on, my favorite show from the ones I actually get to see would be... hold on tight... Austin and Ally. 
17. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I can't remember hating anyone. Actively, I mean. 
18. What was the best book you read?
I didn't read that much this year. I liked The Woman who Walked into Doors a lot.
19. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Brook Davis :)
20. What was your favorite film of this year?
The Hobbit: an Unexpected Journey. What else.
21. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I got to be 22. I didn't do anything special, holding to the lame excuse that my birthday is during exams season.
22. What kept you sane?
Knowing and being conscious of my insanity, and some people who's willing to help.
23. Who did you miss?
I miss R. and E. and M1. I don't really miss my parents.
24. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned.
Oh I learnt and practised a lot thinking/saying "Whatever" and walking away when I didn't like someone or what someone was saying.
25. What does 2013 hold for me?
It hold for precious months here and it holds going back home. It holds post exams holiday in London. It holds starting my last year to get my degree. It holds facing and doing soething about my father's disease. It probably holds a huge lot of frustration, stress and anxiety.
It looks 2012 was a pretty plain year up to October xD thanks Cork and everyone there :)


[Y de repente te das cuenta de que estás dando pasos de gigante hacia un futuro que te aterra, pero que tú has elegido. Y sientes miedo y orgullo, y mariposas en el estómago...]

So... It seems I’m... getting out of the closet. About my autism, that is.

One of the reasons why I finally thought “So what the fuck?” and went aupairing was that my friend M. was doing it, and reading about it in her blog, it looked amazing.

My relationship with M. begun around 2006 in a certain foto-blog plataform and we’ve been in touch via different social networks, and we follow each other blogs. So, she knows about my aspergers. I think she is actually the only person I knew before I found out that knows.

And I decided to come aupairing to Irealnd and I ended up in Co. Cork, were she is. And we met up (for the first time and it was weird and great and whatever).

But the thing is she knows.

And then one saturday night I told F., because I... felt like it.

So she knows too.

And we were chatting the other day and... well, if G. didn’t properly realize what’s going on, then he just sort of did, but it was stated clear that my mind works in a different way at least.

And I’m getting out of the closet and it feels... a lot of different things.

Of course it feels great. I had actually thought of this experience as a way of starting a life that makes me feel better, with less passing and more freedom, right from the instant “So what the fuck?” came into my mind. And being free to be yourself feels fucking great.

And of course it’s hella scary too, I mean, now I suddenly am openly* autistic, and I don’t really know what’s expected from me or to what point I can act like myself and not my passing self, and what aspects of my autistic mind are OK and not creepy to reveal to the people that I want to keep as friends, and how is people going to respond to it? Are they all going to start acting weird and ruin it all? And is it safe? or does it make me just even more vulnerable?

And them I’m proud, because I’m actively taking my own steps towards what I think it should be. Because, come on, asking for the right to be something you’re actually hiding you are is not exactly cool, right? And asking for better conditions and understanding for and about you while you’re not ready to show it is about you is both mean and... mean, right? And when you’re changing that hypocrite part of you (even if it’s only a small part of it, not the whole, not all at once, it feels good, and your self steem suddenly grows, because you don’t really accept yourself until you publicly accept yourself, right?

*Openly with my friends, even just with some of them (the friend-est ones anyway), that is, with the peope I freely relate with,  not with my hostfamily or the people we just hang out with.