Self Publishing. First book: check!

PTSD Beautiful Trauma

It was september 2015, I finally got my sick leave after a long stressful time and, not by chance, I went to the doctor office to ask for a ( life changing ) prescription. When I came out I got a burn out sentence. Yes, it was happening to Me, for real.

“Me? Mrs Perfect and Wonder Woman? Go away.”

Time to make a point, to say the least, and realise which were my real needs and prior Values.

My memoir is half journaling, half potential distopic sci-fiction. Definitely, it was my best company, and writing has been the first self-help therapy. It’s everyday struggle for survival, when everything literally burns inside out, and you go through your Dark Night of the Soul.

As soon as I  finished to rewrite it for the third time, I sent to Italian publishing editors. To be honest, I was contacted only by one, small editor from Rome, who asked me 1500 euros to publish it.  Forget it. Italy is one of the few countries left not yet involved in any of latest terrorist attacks, it goes without saying that there is a lack of empathy. It’s okay.

Thank you for contacting me in case you are interested in being my editor for my next book on Stigma, which is a reportage, in the Shakespeare’s language. Before I repeat the awesome experience on Amazon.

Best Regards,

Antonella BARBERINI

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Balance, and black power.

1200px-Trapeze_Artists_in_Circus

Do you believe in signs? Do you catch any thoughtful insights from quite irrelevant happenings in your  daily life? Psychologist Jung called it “sinchronicity”. When it happens, I feel like that there is someone behind the scene. Recently, my attention has been, and still is, captured by this amazing movie, The Greatest Showman. I am not hiding, I am a new big fan of Hugh Jackman, despite I didn’t take time to watch on his Logan, just because I find it a little violent for my own criteria.  I am also in love with his couple, Jack and Deborah Lee, I just can’t help. She rocks, and their story is very inspiring. This is, also, me.

Signs. A few days ago, I was sharing a cup of café crème after work, with this Italian friend who is been working in a circus, in Rome. She is very tiny, little woman, who had 4 children. Very strong. She introduced me this other Italian, just arrived, Shirly (mispelling is due to her Italian mother, whose other daughter is named Marilyn).

To be honest, I can’t tell you how much Hollywood magic still influences Italian imagination. We were born to be on stage. Even if you cook some homemade pizza, we are acting like movie stars on the screen. I knoe… it’s a natural skill. Or mythomania.

Let’s focus on this girl, she actually is an acrobat. Brown, long hair and big brown eyes. Tiny, too. Perhaps, if you are small size, it’s easier to fly. When I arrived at work, this morning, there was a group in the hall, they were all acrobats. And I felt a good vibe.

Perhaps people who jump in the air, keep on moving, and trust each other can see other people without judging, I thought. Their look was amused, but not judgemental. They were the Stars. Why acrobats are catching my attention all at once?

And then, I go to this rendez -vous with my counsellor who clears up my mind and opens my third eye chakra. By now, my actual situation -at work and life, generally speaking- is walking on a tightrope.

After burn out, priorities became regaining my emotional balance, and still working on it. At first, results came thank’s to yoga, and physical exercise, push ups, sleep & healthy diet discipline (meat is banned). It doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a glass of wine, or that I am gluten free addicted. I am just mindful of what I eat and drink (what’s this coke zero?).

A whole new person is writing these lines,  and I like it. But my life is still stuck. Transforming, reorganising and restructuring. If you are familiar with these terms, you knoe what I mean. Capitalist system is owned by companies who keep us as modern slaves. And it is not by chance, that the person who is my trustworthy counsellour is a black african. The way he spoke to me, today, reminded me of that great, collective father figure of Martin Luther King Jr. His straight, and reassuring look, his confident and open attitude. He holded me tight from a leap in the void.

By only his own words. This is the power of conversation, right?

I’ve recently been in an emotional distress, upsetting family news, and sudden surgery, I needed a break, and I took it right at Christmas Time. The best present for holidays that I did to my family in ten years, abroad. The best holy season since my grandparents passed away. At work, it was not easy. But I’ve followed my heart, and… no regrets.

But now, to keep balance, heart and mind have to be in coeherence with each other.

I can’t leave, I can’t abandon. I am simply not ready.

Acrobats, when launch themselves, they have been training a tons of times, again and again, they take the risk because they feel confident and safe. Or they know that the person who waits for them, to hold their hands is solid, stable and strong.

I admit, I have been talking about my health issues to a very few persons, rarely I did it with friends (why annoying them?). Choose carefully the persons that you can trust, or who will trust you. It’s not guaranteed that a friend can listen the good listening (therapeutic). They can rarely be neutral. Gosh, my best friend almost sent me to hospital when visiting me, during an anxiety attack (she was so scared).

Now, that my pair in this fight to regain my long-term job, is “black power“, well, I feel more comfortable and euphoric.

There is a time fot letting go, and a time for holding on.

“Painted and smiling, I balance on my trapeze. Luka is poised ten metres away, his muscles shining under the lights. The wooden circles in his earlobes twitch as his jaw clenches, unclenches, clenches.” Kirsty Logan