How to live with the things I can't control

Mercedes Cosco

2018 - Ongoing

Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain; Montevideo, Uruguay

I stand up quickly because things usually occur to me in this dizziness. When I was 8, my mother lost me in a foreign supermarket. She says it was less than 3 minutes, I remember it as a whole day. When something starts, I can't help feeling sad thinking about when it’s over. On Sunday afternoons I feel older. There’s a kind of light that brings me nostalgia, it’s not necessarily a negative feeling. The bed is my double-edged sword. I’m a person of convictions. I never asked for forgiveness if I didn't feel it, I did ask permission when I really thought I didn't have to. I feel alone when I’m with someone who I can't read. I prefer summer to winter, but I'm not sure if day to night. What distresses me most is to disappoint someone I love, as far as I know, I did it four times in my life. At the age of 12, I had my first anxiety crisis, I couldn't sleep in silence because I thought of frantic, metallic songs in my mind. I saw the objects too small in comparison with my hand, now I know there’s a name for that. Sometimes I lick my fingertips before touching something that I know will be dry to the touch. My first panic attack was in a disco. I idealize my childhood. I remember my first dream perfectly: I dreamt I was rocking in the hammock of my grandparents' summer house, there was a beautiful sky, the crickets sang and behind me there was a presence that terrified me. Once, I got in the middle of the street to wait for a car to hit me because I was convinced I was dreaming. I write this in fear of what people will say. I pursue more understanding than acceptance. I could listen for hours to others' teenage stories. Wine comforts me as few things, perhaps it is only comparable to winter sunlight. When I was 15, I thought about my body so much that I could see me from above. Sometimes I'm violent. I speak fast and much. I can remember what I ate today and a week ago. The smell of jasmines is the smell of the end of classes. I explain myself more than it is necessary. I would like to learn how to live slowly. How to live with the things I can't control is my personal diary, my energy channeled into 35mm pictures. I'm just trying to understand why I have to live in this eternal roller coaster. I'm just trying to feel, at least, fine.

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