Thursday, April 20, 2017

Being born

I was born on a rainy day of September 1988. According to my mother I was a “planned pregnancy” and her dream was to have a daughter. The reality of that was deep, deep, in her mind; she would have been too happy if she had had a baby boy. 

I know, you must think: how could you say that? Any mother would be happy to have a healthy baby no matter the gender. Let me stop you right there, not everyone can be a mother, not everyone should be a mother, period. Unfortunately we live in a society that makes you believe in order to function properly as human being is to go to school, go to college, work, marry and have children.

I was a slightly complicated case already; after 20 hours of labor the doctor performed a c-section because she wasn’t dilated enough to get me out. The OR temperature was cold, too cold for me because and I’m very sensitive to low temperatures. The recommended temperature range in an operating room is between 68°F and 75°F. Collaborate with infection prevention. Consequently, I develop from that moment sinusitis or as a psychologist once told me, the reason for that sinus was the physical response to my mother’s rejection at birth.

When I was finally born and the gender was confirmed, a gorgeous baby girl (I just added gorgeous) the expression on my mom’s face changed completely from happy to upset. Being her daughter already upset her, nice start. She couldn’t help it I was not her bundle of joy, I was a burden, a curse, a penance for life.

She held me in her arms when she was discharged from the hospital, she told my father she wasn’t feeling strong enough to hold me the three days spent in the hospital. Who can blame her? My mother is mentally ill, therefore, the task of motherhood will be hard for her. I was the reason for her emotions sinking into postpartum depression. Postpartum depression is temporary, the mother feels extreme sadness, emptiness, and hopelessness, cries all the time, have loss of interest or lack of enjoyment in your usual activities, is being uninterested in the baby, or unable to care for her, or even overwhelming feelings of worthlessness or overpowering guilt, and the list can go on but I'm just going to live it like this.

In rare cases, like my mom’s who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia she could experience delusional thoughts or hallucinations and may harm me. Moreover, she believes others plot and conspire against her. People with paranoid schizophrenia tend to fare better than those suffering from one of the other subtypes. They can experience fewer issues with concentration, memory, and emotional apathy, allowing them to function better in everyday life. And as she never received proper treatment, logically you can expect why until this day we don’t have a solid loving mother-daughter relationship and I found out about her condition 2 years ago.

My father missed my birth, because his wife passed away the same day. Yes, he was married at the time and not to my mom, she was the mistress.

His wife died from a respiratory arrest which is the cessation of breathing due to failure of the lungs to function effectively. She just stop breathing, due a complication of an asthma attack she had when she found out about the baby my father was having; it was too much for her. Leaving behind 3 teenagers conceived in the marriage.

My grandparents and uncles found out the next day, my mother’s relationship with them wasn’t the best either. According to my mom’s they were the reason of her misfortune, me.

When I was 4 months old my parents sent me to a baby-day-care; she needed to work, be productive not being at home with me, notwithstanding, she didn’t want to finish the maternal leave when it was supposed to.

If you like this story and want to read what’s next, leave a comment down below or wait until next week when I’ll post the second part of this story.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

The Oh hooman! series

Lately on social media I've been posting pictures of my dogs staring at my food like saying: 'oh hooman! give me just one bite!'. They always have a treat after I take the picture, I'm not cruel to them.

Here's a collage of those pics!

Enjoy!

#ohhooman
@juliaspaintings on Instagram

Carmina Burana - BBC Proms 1994





My favorite of all time!

 It is based on 24 poems from the medieval collection Carmina Burana. Its full Latin title is Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanæ cantoribus et choris cantandæ comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis ("Songs of Beuern: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magic images"). Composed by Carl Orff in 1935.

 My favorite song is ''O Fortuna'' it has a glorious start, I'm possessed by it as the song plays. I listen to this compilation when I need some time out or I'm writing or painting, is my muse, it makes inspiration runs through my whole body as the notes reaches high and the result of work is amazing!

 I like Classic Music very much, I'll be sharing more about this topic.

Stay tuned!

Julia

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

16 hours...

On March 15th at 2:00pm my headache started, I did not have the strength to tell him that I was in pain so he won’t worry. I needed to stay silent, keep the aching thoughts in my head, he has suffered enough. Because earlier that day I had a crisis, mild, but emotionally exhausting for both of us; my body have had gotten stiff, rigid, I had no facial expressions, my brain shut down leaving me unconscious for few seconds, my heart is sore. Also is his.

Depressions kicks in, I have no choice other than welcome my friend to my life once again, we belong together.


It wasn’t a simple headache, it was blurring my sight, my happiness, my body, extending the pain to every cell, to every muscle, to every inch of me.  Many ideas come to my already congested mind, one of them was to end up my life and forever be pain free. Then I thought about taking some painkillers; but I wasn’t able to do it. I supposed my will power and my primary need was to stay sober were stronger than the painkillers; I knew that if I took a single pill, it could have gotten from 1 every 6 hours to 2 pills per hour, as I used to do.


It's 2:00 am and I'm still in pain, it’s been 12 hours with this suffering. How I was able to cope with so much agony. I suppose there are worse things you can go through; but at that moment there is only one thing in my head, ache.


Since I didn’t have a wide range of positions while lying in bed, so I decide to turn on my left side, I was tired to being staring at the wall for hours now. Suddenly, my eyes were contemplating the most beautiful sight in the world. There he was, submerged in a deep sleep; relaxed and serene, he was so peaceful lying in bed with me that all negative thoughts were vanished before the feel of his skin, his smooth soft skin and his hair on the gray scale. I got lost watching him sleeping...


I was running out of time, I need ransom. I woke him up and told him what is happening to me. I felt his reaction through the dark room... his eyes leapt, his pupils dilate, concern took over his body. And what does my hero do to save me from the curse?, takes my hand and gently touch it until I fall asleep and the pain is diluted like water between his fingers. His love heals, his love nurtures, his love fills me with happiness. It was exciting to be able to wake up at 6:00 am and see his freckles covering his body and those magnificent brown eyes brighten up his face.


He is my hero and always will be, he saved me from my worst enemy, me.


@juliaspaintings on Instagram
I did it I have another day to live, by his side.