The Kindness Of Strangers

More than a week has pasted since my first entry in here. I try not to think about it as a blog/social media rampage of likes and followers. An endless self consuming pursuit of “look-how-handsome-and-clever-I-am”.

Instead it is a journal and a self-exploration and a healing process. A conversation with oneself about one’s deepest and scariest things that dwell in one’s mind. A search for a light (or lights) that might lead somewhere bright and sunny.

Or at least … some light. And I really need it.

I know (we all do) that there are simple answers to our questions, answers such as:

  • “It’s all in your head, there’s a spotlight that amplifies what to feel to the tenfold”.
  • “Try to find the light wherever you can and acknowledge it for what it is.”
  • “Share with your loved ones”.
  • “A therapist in addition with the right medication can improve things”.

I suppose there’s no need to go on. We’ve all been there. We all know that feeling, despite the difference in our condition.

So we all know the feeling of despair, emptiness and darkness that makes us numb and self destructive. That forces us to stay in bed and do nothing. That makes us walk around in circles not ready to face the “nothome” reality of our home. That urges us to get lost in crowded bars, lonely between other people. That drives us to get connected with wrong people, just to get a reassuring word and a touch that in our troubled mind says “I care“.

I need not go on either I suppose.

But being here among you BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE taught me another thing.

We’re not alone, or if I can rephrase it with one of the most beautiful comments that I have read, “let us be alone, together“.

Anonymity is also a blessing in which we can talk without being judged.

There are people out there that suffer as you do and within their suffering they still find the strength to offer a hand and say “I’m here, I can relate”.

They care and they read and they comment and they share. So we all can continue sharing. And we all can continue being. And we all can see our suffering from a set of fresh eyes and say “I can continue”.

I thank you all you beautiful people.

and the most important thing…


to be continued

Self Doubt

No kickboxing training yesterday evening. No endorphins either, so less light this morning than yesterday morning. Have to take a mental note and learn how long the endorphin effects last.

A beautiful mind is multitasking, seeking knowledge wherever it can. (applause please).

Didn’t want to go home either yesterday, so I took my books, my notebook and pen and my earphones (a must have if you wanna isolate yourself) and went to a crowded bar, one that I’m DJing from time to time.

Bipolar entertainer (applause again please).

Sat on a table far behind (labeled as “my office”, I use it quite often when I don’t want to go home), arranged my chair so I don’t face the interior but a wall with a black and white picture of James Dean, took out my “Advanced Calculus” and my notebook and armed with my earphones and a storm of loud grunge music I tried to get lost in my haven of maths.

Usually the complexity of maths followed by the inevitable outcome of  certainty that it provides made my mind feel “right”. The “cause equals effect” is something that gives meaning to my otherwise meaningless existence.

But yesterday it didn’t.

You’re bipolar you may add, you’re THE definition of “sometimes-things-work-and-sometimes-they-don’t”.

It’s not quite that simple. I got lost in my haven, I did find a safe place within Bolzano and Fermat. But occasionally i got out, checking my smartphone for notifications and messages, as if I wanted some sort of confirmation from other people. And of course some acknowledgment from my “better half” that I matter.

I’m not a social media junkie, I know that there are no friends in google+ or Facebook. But this thing that I’m doing right now… Blogging?

This is my first try to reach out from anonymity to strangers suffering as I do and get a smile, a comment and soothing word. But is it another rapid-hole that Lewis Carroll (bipolar mathematician and a next-door genius) would absolutely love?

Will have to get back to you on that too (seems that things that I’ll have to “get back to you” are pilling up). Share your thoughts if anyone can relate.


to be continued

Light… Maybe (φως… ίσως)

I cracked the window open just a bit today. Assuming you know me, that was a huge improvement. Dealing with sunlight head-on, without ANY coffee???

U shall not pass

I imagined tiny particles of depression floating around in here… perhaps with the light and the cold wind they’ll reach for a new home. On the other hand, these particles are a part of me, so would I miss them when they’re not here?

I’d have to get back to you on that…

“So what’s the big deal” you might say, “managing sunlight in your house at this time of the morning regardless of the cold. I do it all the time”. Yup, and I struggle with mathematics that would make your brain hurt, holding a pen in each hand without breaking a sweat.

One knows its limits… I’ll stick with mine, perhaps doing one baby step after another.

I look outside my window for a bit. A playground, full of children playing with the snow. Laughs that echoed all over my gloomy living room. Perhaps I smiled a bit.

How is it possible that this endless white ruins your mood, the sound of laughter and the sunshine is just static inside your head and you desperately want to find an off switch?

The answer is elementary my dear Watson.

I wish that my braid had an off switch so I could stop and enjoy what other people take for granted. I wish I could find the joy in the simplest things. Perhaps I need someone to point them out.

I don’t hate the snow. Being in this mood is not a choice I made.


Trust me, it is worst in here than it is out there. I’m not stuck in a loop because I enjoy it. I’m trying to get out.

Perhaps I made the first step…


to be continued

It’s snowing in here too. (Χιόνι κι εδώ μέσα)

It’s snowing in here.

I thought of a friend today, a lovely being with red curly hair. Her favorite quote, “it’s raining in here”. A lonely feeling at the horizon, where everyone and everything seemed far away and her, all alone, trying to manage anything that hurt. Trying to make some sense.

“It’s raining in here”

So, assuming that snow is colder than rain, though soft and pure and not menacing yet, at least for people that hadn’t got used to it?

So, with this in mind I will change her quote a bit. “It doesn’t rain in here, it’s snowing”.

“It’s snowing in here as well as outside.”

So… what exactly is your point, besides quoting a friend with red curly hair you would ask?

It doesn’t really matter what my point is. I’m operating under the assumption that no one, ever, is going to read this, so I’m only having a nice conversation with myself. An inside monologue, poor man’s therapy.

It’s been snowing out there since midday… It’s snowing in here for quite some time now.

Where did all this came from, I keep asking myself. Something got screwed up inside and made everything seem blurry and unreachable, removed all sense of pleasure and purpose and all seems grey now. Or perhaps there’s some faulty wiring in my brain, a switch that once triggered one stops smiling, stops seeing colors and sees only grey.



to be continued