The Good Dad

I think he’s a great dad. I smile everything I see him around the neighbourhood. The good dad.  He looks like one.

I met him at the bus stop with his little daughter. He wears a black faux leather jacket, and you can tell he’s cold. He looks loving and caring. He is short, a little chubby and bald; he wears glasses. He carries his daughter’s pink backpack. The little skinny girl talks to him. She’s cold too

I see them at the bus stop every morning. It’s very early and still dark, but I guess eight months of the year is dark in the city.

Time passes…years

She’s no longer a little girl. I think she even wears make-up. She’s now taller than her good dad.


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With Tears…Again.

I wish there could be a week in which I wouldn’t cry,

a week in which I could only feel happiness.

In fact, I don’t even want happiness,

I just don’t want to feel any despair or anger.

I want to get rid of this painful and consuming knot in my throat

that only sobbing seems to take away.


I’m tired of me more than anything.  It amazes me that my husband loves me that much. I’m tired of myself, and I wonder how he can be so good to me.


Sometimes I’m not sure why I cry anymore.

I cry because…

I’m good,

because I try and fail;

because I’m smart;

because I dislike people

because it’s unfiar…it’s so unfair!

I cry because…

I don’t care to judge you,

because I don’t want to judge you;

because I wish I could choose love all the time.



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It Will Be Summer, But Then, Fall Again!

This year, I’m afraid of summer. I’ve never had this feeling before, and it scares me. I’m usually happy when spring arrives. Who doesn’t the love cherry blossoms? I don’t even like birds, yet I love hearing them communicate in the morning (I don’t actually think that they’re singing; it sounds more poetic to say so, but in my opinion, it makes more sense that they’re talking).

This past fall/winter has been terrible. My SAD was particularly bad. There were a few things that I was really looking forward to, things that kept me slightly motivated, but when they happened, they were nothing close to what I was expecting. Overall, I never felt OK. It is true that July’s Silvia is nothing close to January’s Silvia, but after the first weeks of October (where pretty much I want to die and I wonder if I’ll be able to make it), I eventually feel decent. It wasn’t the case this fall/winter…I felt awful throughout the whole season.

Precisely because of these bad past months, I’m not looking forward at all to enjoying summer. I know that summer will be over and the fall will come, and I don’t think I have the strength to handle it.  This probably sounds ridiculous and extreme to some people, but if you’ve suffered from depression and anxiety, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

I don’t like this at all, and I don’t have a real plan to solve it. I’m already slightly anxious that I’ll be anxious in August (which is after July, and if June is almost here: it’s over!!)

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The Darkness In My Heart

There is darkness in my heart,

A storm of anger that feeds

by soul with judgment.


It comes from the flesh, from a place of darkness.

It’s a feeling that consumes my heart.


And I’m ashamed to ask God for help.

Not because I doubt His love or mercy.

I know He loves me precisely because of my faults.


It’s different when I’m sad, and I fail…

My failure comes from choosing love and finding it hard.

I mean well.

Although I fail,

I  surrender myself and ask for love and peace.

And I receive compassion because my struggles and sadness come from a place of love.


But when it comes from this dark place,

how can I ask for help?

I’m ashamed to ask Mary to sit down with me and hug me,

Because I  know my suffering comes from my judgment,

from my anger and obsession.


So instead I pray that light and love may replace this darkness growing in me.

Because I cry over my shame and weakness. I cry because I feel angry and because

I’m still judging those I judge; disliking those I don’t like.

But I don’t want this darkness in my heart, so I’ll continue to pray for light.




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It’s Music, It’s Breathtaking

Sometimes it’s hard to express the amount of beauty that music can have.

It’s breathtaking.

It makes me cry.

I’m so thankful for the talented musicians who compose such magnificent pieces. Who inspires them to write that kind of musical poetry? It must be something of incredible beauty.

I wish I could do that with words…take someone’s breath away, make someone so happy that they want to cry. On a personal note,  I’ve cried many times with my writing, I’ve cried so much that breathing has become difficult.

Right now, at this precise moment, I’m thankful for the joy that music has always brought to my life. I’ve always loved music, and I cannot understand the world without it.

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Crying Over Small Things

There are days when small things are huge.

On Saturday, I cried because I ordered a bad chai latte. I cried because the coconut milk I chose made my drink watery.

On Sunday morning, I realised I’ve started taking my medicine the wrong day. I cried for about 40 minutes.

How can I not be able to order a proper drink? How can I take the medicine the wrong day after taking it for almost 2 years? I cried more those 2 days than when I knew my abue had passed away.

While crying, I prayed…I asked Jesus to help me choose love, I ask Mary to comfort me.

It all started last Wednesday, it was a good day. I went to confession and talked about the same things I’ve been talking for months (it amazes me that my priest isn’t tired of me, but yet, he is so wonderful, I guess that’s why!). I told Father how hard it was to choose love,  that some days were so difficult. We talked about other things as well.  And then, Fr. told me what you’re doing is very pleasing to God. I was so happy to hear that, it gave a sense of bliss that I haven’t felt in a while; I smiled and throughout the day I thought about it.

It was a great Wednesday because January was finally over, because it was a sunny day, because Mass was beautiful that morning and because I knew that my actions were very pleasing to God. But hours later I fell down the stairs. It wasn’t serious, I didn’t break any bones. But I got myself a very bad sprained ankle. So I was told: stay home, don’t walk, it’ll take about 4 months to heal. 

And I handled it well, I didn’t cry although it hurt. I stayed home. It snowed a lot, and the scenery was beautiful.

Then I ordered the wrong chai latte, and I cried like it was a big deal.

But I also went to Mass, and my husband shovelled an entire back alley so I could walk back with the air boot cast that I’m wearing. I cried most of the time during Mass. I asked God to help me choose love over sadness, over despair. And my friends loved me at church, they were all worried about my foot, they all truly cared about me. A real and honest caring that I’m so blessed to have.

But next morning, on Sunday, I cried for about 40 minutes because I started my progesterone days before I was supposed to. Sadly, my hormonal system is so messed-up that I don’t think my small dose mistake made a real difference, but it was again another failure, another thing that I couldn’t do right.

And again, while crying, I prayed…I asked Jesus to help me choose love, I ask Mary to comfort me.

Today is Tuesday, a sunny Tuesday and the snow is melting so I’ll be to go back to work, which makes me very happy. It will rain soon, and with the rain comes darkness. I cannot go to Zumba for a while and I know I’ll need to do my morning exercises sitting, or mostly do abs. I know it will be so hard to choose love over sadness, but I’ll try my best, because it pleases God, and that’s the least I can do for Him.



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The Forest I Go

I always imagined it as a beautiful forest. Enormous pines surrounding a greenfield where a tiny cabin sits in the middle. It is the classic cabin: painted in red (although I don’t even like red), with square shaped windows and a chimney. There is a little path made out of rocks that leads to a very shallow crystal clear river.

I run around the field, and when I stop, I contemplate the majesty of the trees. The deepness embraces my thoughts.

A profound forest which outpours love with every moving leave;

a grassy field perfectly trimmed, the welcoming perfection of nature;

a clear noise…running water that washes away everything that is not beauty.


That’s the place I imagine,

the place I’ve walked down so many times to empty my mind, to smile.

It’s a place that I’ve visited since I was a kid,

a timeless space that has seen no change.


It comforts me,

it brings me a sense of peace.

And it’s always there, ready for me.



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