Good morning

Living in London increases automatically my levels of anxiety. I love it better than Modena, but I cannot help finding myself constantly worried about one thing or the other. Some stupid, like doing my shopping this morning, some too far away (my flat contract expires in two months, some close, but not as bad as my mind keep projecting them, like going back to work tomorrow. It's the jungle syndrome. I am also starting to get worried about the effect that the xanax has on me, especially in thew morning. I have realised that even when I want to and can stay in bed, the thought of that little pill makes me get up. No good at all. It's nice and sunny outside, so I think I will finish off my tasks for the morning and then go for a walk and the weekly shopping. I cannot in this moment do anything for any of my worries, so I think I'll do something for some of my dreams.

Panic attack!!!

I just had a panic attack. Gone to do my shopping (no chocolate, even if at the moment I am bingeing on M&Ms, then an unfortunate accident involving my rent contract, noddles and the News of the World (not mentioning the fact that the difference in time is making me feel how dependent I am becoming on Xanax, has sent me spinning worse than the washing machine. What will I do, where? I am here now, but only because it will make easier for me to get anywhere, and because it is better than where I was before. Internet access, chippies and more sport on telly, these are the things that make the difference. Not mentioning a job and an huose until ferragosto. I do have this strange idea etched in my brain to go and live in the wilderness for a while. My father is ok with it as long as is not backpacking, but a proper job. I'd love somebody I could do from home, like translating. Or writing. Anyway, I promised one of my most recent poems and here it comes:

By an act of careless handling
I unlocked the door,
I have retrieved my voice.
My powerful, sarcastic, peculiar voice.
And now I am dancing,
And now I am singing,
And now i am shouting
Because I have retrieved my voice.
I missed you. Your lonely, dreamy you.
I missed your secret smiles. I missed the jokes only you could understand.
I am holding you in my arms, and my arms feel strong
My heart is singing and my chest feels light for the first time since I lost myself.
I am holding you in my arms beloved sister,
And all I want is to make you feel
how much I love you
how much I missed you
how sorry I am to have sent you away
In holding you in my arms I am holding a celebration
Known only to us
Please stay?

Think about it while I go and hang the washing.