¿Por dónde empezar?

Martha
Posted June 23, 2017 from Colombia

¿Por dónde empezar?

Por el principio. Por donde debemos empezar todo. Por la verdad. Aunque duela. Aunque coja todas tus células y te las revuelque como si fuera a ser la última vez. Porque podría serlo. Pero no lo es. Y no lo será…

Empiezo por el principio. De mi propia vida. Porque hoy por primera vez siento que retomo lentamente los hilos de mi vida. No me levanté a las 3:14. No aún y menos durmiéndome después de 12 porque la pastilla para dormir no me hace efecto. Si. Una pastilla para dormir cuando tenemos un cuerpo perfecto que sabe inteligentemente que tiene dormir mínimo 7 horas para que podamos funcionar. Y yo por más de un año dormía mucho menos. Y fue entonces como una factura de mi propio cuerpo. Una que llegó de repente y me metió en ese abismo del que casi no salgo. Hoy hace una semana puse toda mi fuerza de voluntad en la mirada de aquel médico joven para decirle con ella que por favor que me sacara de allí. Se lo imploraba con mi mirada. Con toda mi alma. Con todo mi espíritu. Con mi piel. Con cada poro de mi cuerpo. Y él me miraba como intentando saber. ¿Estará lista esta mujer para estar de vuelta a su vida? ¿Lo estara? Y otra mujer pateaba afuera de ese pequeñísimo consultorio con toda la furia de su alma para que a ella también la sacaran…pero no corrió con la misma suerte.

¿Por dónde empezar? Por el principio. Porque no debemos temer a admitir que un día cualquiera nos enfermamos y sin darnos cuenta comenzamos a caminar por un delgado hilo casi invisible e imperceptible de nuestras propias vidas. Y el cual no te das cuenta hasta que se te convierte en una delicada cuchilla que a cada paso que das te corta. Y no puedes moverte. Y te paraliza. Porque te paraliza el dolor. El miedo. Te paraliza el pasado, el presente y el futuro. Pero te tienes que mover de ahí. Y dos meses son una eternidad. No quiero ni contarlos en ninguna medida. Tengo ya mi propia medida personal de ellos. Y fueron la eternidad. Una a la que me prometo no volver por el respeto que me tengo y el que le tengo a quien me dio la vida y a Nicolás. Esa, mi semilla. Mi semilla que me miraba asustadizo cada vez que podía ir a ver a su propia madre en aquel estado de desequilibrio. Cuánto te amo y te amaré Nico por sostenerte fuerte ante semejante vendaval. Y a tu padre que te tomó de la mano para que tú no me soltaras…

Casi no paso la prueba. Eso debe haber sido. Y fue muy fuerte. Fue demasiado. Fue un exceso. Fue el todo. No recuerdo mucho. No recuerdo todo. Porque en medio de mi verdad, mis cables se trocaron y se desconectaron y se hizo un corto circuito y mi mente entró a un lugar mágico y desconocido pero también tenebroso del que no podía salir. Era mi propio laberinto. Y desde hoy intentaré entrar nuevamente conscientemente para tratar de comprender. Solo para eso. Escribí en pequeños papeles en letra diminuta. Porque donde estuve el papel era escaso y los lápices no eran permitidos. Pinté como niña de tres años y hoy que los veo me doy el lujo de verlos y de reconocer a esa niña mujer que los hizo. Y agradezco y hago reverencia a quienes pudieron pacientemente acompañarme en silencio y en su propio desespero…porque sé que hay quienes se quedan allí para siempre y nunca salen…y sus seres amados los recuerdan como fueron…y todos quedan suspendidos en un limbo inimaginado. Espero que ese no sea el caso de aquella mujer hermosa de rizos dorados que vi el día que mi doctor dijo puedes irte a casa. A donde deben cuidarte como si aún estuvieras aquí.

Y entonces respiré profundo. Volver a casa. Qué palabras tan significativas cuando no has estado ni en tu propio cuerpo. Cuando todo me era extraño. Cuando quienes me rodeaban estaban quizá como yo, pero yo no me podía ver. Menos mal. Pero si me extrañaba. Extrañaba mi propia piel. Mi propio cuerpo que me habla en ese lenguaje antiguo. En ese donde las palabras no son necesarias pero en donde cuando piso la hojarasca del bosque que habito descargo mi energía y puedo recobrar mi centro. Cada mañana. Con café en mano…volver a casa significaba en ese momento volver a mi cuerpo. El mío. Perfecto. Después de haber visto que aún existen técnicas de control antiguas paras quienes perdemos la cabeza. Esa. “La tête”. La perdí por unos días. Por exceso. De mi. De falta de sueño y de excesos. No consumo drogas. Pero me excedí y sobrepasé mis propios límites de velocidad y me estrellé a 1000 por hora contra una montaña hermosa y blanca que me tenía preparada la vida a mis 49 años. Y llegué a esta vuelta al Sol tocándolo de cerca y me rozó su calor y me quemaba fuertemente. Era intenso…

¿Por dónde empezar? Por el principio. Por tomar después de dos meses un café al lado de los mios. Por tomar de las manos a mi hijo y decirle cuánto lo amo. Por agradecerle a mi madre por no soltarme ni un segundo cuando yo sentía que mis manos se despegaban de las suyas mientras yo me deslizaba lentamente hacia el abismo y ella no se rendía aún sin fuerzas y con su dedo quebrado y con sus suaves manos cerradas con todas sus fuerzas para no perderme. Para no soltarme. A toda mi familia que aún sin comprender muy bien sabían que estaba viviendo mi pequeño infierno personal. A los amigos que se quedaron para acompañarme como Olga y Blanquis sin quienes este viaje hubiera sido imposible. A Erika que asumió el cuidado de mi familia perruna como si fuera la suya. Y de ese bosque que es mi refugio. A mi hermano, su esposa y mis sobrinos, a quienes tenían que ser médicos para saber con tanta claridad y certeza que iba a salir de allí aún cuando yo no lo creía. Y por poco lo logro. Pero la vida quiso otra cosa. Esta. Que yo comenzara otra vez. Y eso hago desde hoy.

¿Cómo comenzar?

Por el principio. Por éste. Por hacer lo que más amo. Con tanta certeza…

www.resiliencias.org/lo

https://www.worldpulse.com/en/community/users/martha-llano/posts/77828

www.worldpulse.com

Comments 19

Log in or register to post comments
mae me
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017

Dear Martha.  How do you begin? A question that baffled in my head.  But one thing I know, begin to love God, yourself then others.  Then you will find what is the purpose of life.

Martha
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017

Indeed...we all begin with God...

JulieG
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017

Thinking of you Martha, sending you healing breath, thoughts and steps.

otahelp
May 05, 2018
May 05, 2018

learn to trust God and keep your faith alive

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

I do Otahelp. I do...

leila Kigha
May 06, 2018
May 06, 2018

Keep faith alive.

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Always Leila, always....

Sister Zeph
May 15, 2018
May 15, 2018

Dear Martha

We all have to face tough situations in our lives but we can overcome and you will overcome all this with your will power which I can feel in your words and through having faith in God

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Yes Sister Zeph, faith in our God took me from where I was...thanks

QueenVirtuous
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018

Dear Martha,

I've been on the brink of this myself. I've watched a loved one slip into this state which you describe. He never came back to himself. We lost him, he passed on.

This story touched me in places only those who have been through what you're describing can understand. And oh, you're such a good writer! Such a good writer!

Faith, a love that stays, prayers and will power. Although sometimes, willpower is no match for a decline like this because you are essentially outside of yourself. But God meets you right where you are, right there outside of yourself.

Prayers, my love. I'm praying for you. You'll be okay again. Just take it one day at a time.

Please, keep us posted. You are beautiful.

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Sorry to hear that Queenvirtuos...our mind may take us deep inside of ourselves and we may never come back. I am lucky. I did. And I am here...love

coolasas
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018

Hello Martha,

God is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end and without god and faith in our hearts we will be lost and we feel alone that's why I am happy that you have both in your life.
Remember that you have us here to walk along with you, thinking about you and your dreams for yourself and your family.

Live life!

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Thanks Coolasas...Yes I found a way out with en equilibrium and faith.

Beth Lacey
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018

Saying prayers that you stay strong.
Beth

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Thanks Beth...I am strong....love

Tamarack Verrall
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Dear Martha,
I have been holding your news deep in my heart since reading a short while ago. You have been to the Abyss, and I celebrate with deep gratitude that you have made the journey back, enough of the distance back to be able to write to us all. May this journey show you ever more profoundly how strong you are, to have faced so much. May this journey continue to bring you safely and ever more strongly along your path. May this journey continue to remind you that all of those trees that you have been loving and protecting are there, loving you for who you are, for what you do. May their interconnected roots give you a seat in their divine midst. May their strong trunks give you pillars to hold onto and lean into. May you feel your WorldPulse sisterhood sending you love, embracing you through the wind dancing in the arms of your beloved forests.
You are cherished, dear sister.

With deep love,
Tam

Martha
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018

Dear Tam, thanks...this happened last year and my world was upside down...I found a way out....love

Anjana Vaidya
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018

it is in different language, after reviewing other's comment, i am more interested to read. Dear Martha, if there is any possible way to translate it in english please. best regards, anjana

Martha
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018

hope this work

Where to start?

From the beginning. Where we should start everything For the truth. Even if it hurts. Even if I take all your cells and roll them around like it's the last time. Because it could be. But is not. And it will not be ...

I start at the beginning. Of my own life Because today for the first time I feel that I slowly return to the threads of my life. I did not get up at 3:14. Not yet and less sleeping after 12 because the sleeping pill does not take effect. Yes. A sleeping pill when we have a perfect body that intelligently knows that it has to sleep at least 7 hours so that we can function. And for more than a year I slept much less. And it was then like an invoice of my own body. One that came suddenly and put me in that abyss that almost did not leave. Today, a week ago, I put all my will power in the young doctor's eyes to tell her to please tell me to get out of there. I implored it with my eyes. With all my soul. With all my spirit. With my skin With every pore of my body. And he looked at me like trying to know. Will this woman be ready to be back in her life? Will it be? And another woman kicked out of that tiny office with all the fury of her soul so that she too would be taken out ... but she did not run with the same fate.

Where to start? From the beginning. Because we should not be afraid to admit that one day we get sick and without realizing it we begin to walk by a thin thread almost invisible and imperceptible of our own lives. And which you do not realize until it becomes a delicate blade that cuts you every step you take. And you can not move. And it paralyzes you. Because the pain paralyzes you. The fear. The past, the present and the future paralyze you. But you have to move from there. And two months is an eternity. I do not want to count them in any way. I already have my own personal measure of them. And they were eternity. One to which I promise not to return because of the respect I have for myself and the one I have for the one who gave me life and for Nicolás. That, my seed. My seed looked at me scared every time I could go see his own mother in that state of imbalance. How much I love you and I will love you Nico for holding you strong in the face of such a gale. And your father who took you by the hand so you would not let go ...

I almost did not pass the test. That must have been. And it was very strong. It was too much. It was an excess. It was everything. I do not remember much. I do not remember everything. Because in the middle of my truth, my cables were changed and disconnected and short circuited and my mind became a magical and unknown but also scary place from which they could not leave. It was my own labyrinth. And from today I will try to enter again consciously to try to understand. Just for that. I wrote in small papers in tiny print. Because where I was the paper was scarce and the pencils were not allowed. I painted as a three-year-old girl and today, when I see them, I have the luxury of seeing them and of recognizing that little girl who made them. And I thank and reverence those who could patiently accompany me in the silence and in their own despair ... because I know there are those who stayed there forever and never left ... and their loved ones were as they were ... and all are left suspended in an unimagined limbo. I hope that's the case with that beautiful woman with the golden curls I saw the day my doctor said I could go home. Where we should care as if you were still here.

And then I breathed deeply. Back home. What important words when you have no status or in your own body. When everything was strange to me. When those around me were like me, but I can not see myself. Goodness. But he missed me. I missed my own skin. My own body that speaks to me in that ancient language. At that moment, the words are not necessary, except at the moment when the leaf litter of the forest can discharge my energy and I can recover my center. Every morning. With coffee in hand ... going home meant at that moment returning to my body. Mine Perfect. After having seen that control techniques still existed, for those who had their heads. That. "La tête". I lost it for a few days. By excess. From my. Of lack of sleep and excesses. I do not consume drugs. But I overcame and exceeded my own speed limits and crashed at 1000 an hour against a beautiful white mountain that had prepared my life at 49 years of age. And I came to this turn of the sun so that it would come closer and it would touch my calorie and burn me strongly. It was intense ...

Where to start? From the beginning. To take after two months a coffee next to mine. For taking my son's hands and telling him how much I love him. For thanking my mother for not letting go even for a second when I felt my hands take off from his while I slid slowly towards the abyss and she did not give up without strength and with her broken finger and with her soft hands closed with all his strength to not lose me. Not to let go To all my family that still not understanding very well they knew that I was living my little personal hell. To the friends who stayed to accompany me as Olga and Blanquis without whom this trip would have been impossible. Erika who took care of my doggy family as if it was his own. And of that forest that is my refuge. To my brother, his wife and my nephews, who had to be doctors to know with such clarity and certainty that I would get out of there even when I did not believe it. And I almost made it. But life wanted something else. This. That I will start again. And that I do from today.

How to start?

From the beginning. For this one. For doing what I love the most. With so much certainty ...