Subconjunctival Hemorrhage. Or blood burst of the Mind.

Stress, here we go again, I woke up in the morning, and after my gums infections, I got this red eye, or burst blood, on my left eye.

Doctors say it’s nothing at all, blood pressure is fine and I am having all my vitamins.

Ok, I left the blog behind for a week, cos I am muting service. Since it’s not terrific, never mind, I had the chance to come back to the previous service. And it’s still temporary. My HR assistant is still not understanding which are my priorities, furthermore if I reject any missions I am fired.

Occupational medicine is supporting me, so I took this rendez vous with my actual doctor, and he did what it was needed to do. We’ll see how things evolve, in the mean time, I am preparing my italian CV and see what I can do to create this nice, peaceful and meaningful picture called …future.

Btw, broken blood finally shows what’s going on INSIDE of My Heart. It’s nothing at all, doctor says, it will reabsorb and heal it self. Alright. Heart can heal it self, too. With a bunch of Self Love, of course.

Yeah, eyes are the window of our Soul. Did you know?


Park Slope Eye

You were having a great day until someone looked at you and said “Oh my god! Your eye is bleeding!” You head to the mirror and you are taken back at what you see. Your eye wasn’t bothering you but you are stunned to see the normally white part of you eye is bright red. You can’t recall anything happening to your eye, it doesn’t hurt and your vision seems to be fine as well. The good news is that this is typically something that looks way worse than what it really is. This frightfully appearing condition is most likely to be diagnosed as a subconjunctival hemorrhage, a broken blood vessel.

When a tiny blood vessel breaks just underneath the clear cellophane like layer of your eye (conjunctiva), the trapped blood spreads out quickly, leaving you with a grossly red eye. This is the equivalent of a broken blood vessel…

View original post 202 more words

Sexuality and bullying at 16. We shall protect our teens.

When I started this blog and did my research on the topic, I believed that I I would talk about different kinds of traumas, except one, rape. While “Me too” movement is spreading around the globe, I admit this subject scares me just to think about. Sexual harassements are quite familiar as far as I am a Lady and have been growing up in a macho culture like Italy, from 80s to 2000. Unfortunate encounters on a deserted street, in the early morning, with a drug addict who put his pants off, and tried to take my hand in order to touch his nudity, at 18. He was so into drugs, and perhaps alchool, that it was very simple to push him away and run. This event impressed much. Of course, my mum came with me to the Police Station in order to report, with no consequences.

At 14, I was walking on a sidewalk, in a blue fashionable mini skirt, when a man on a car stopped right beside me, on the street, and opened the car door to let me in. Nobody around. I just kept walking and arrived safe at work (babysitting). But it took me a long time before I put on a skirt again. Except if a man was with me.  My grandmother used to yell at me if I wore one when going for a visit to granddad’s house. Mary Quant was british. Actually, I can’t say that my education was that strict, but catholic oriented, for sure.

At primary school I remember so well how I could gain boys respect beating them. Once they took me in four against one, two gripped my feet, the others tried to block my hands, even though they were joking, I felt in a real danger, and I became such a fury. They never tried again. Yes, I very proudly kicked their ass.

Back to today, fortunately I live in a safe area, despite the surrounding Parisian suburbs and their teen gangster bands reality. The fact that I am no more a teen helps my sense of boldness, of course. Going gray has got its advantage, and tae kwon do and self defense make me feeling more secure and self confident. Also Yoga, believe it or not, makes you stronger.

What if you were 16, today, and two guys of your class took a picture of you in a sexy attitude, and started to blackmail to get sexual favours by threats of publishing your photo on Facebook. What if they endured this deal for months, and you fear so much anybody finding out, especially your parents, mates and teachers. It’s happening now, in a small village nearby, she is a school mate of my colleague’s daughter, and her 16 yo girl is also involved and starting feeling guilty. In addition, the father of the victim, put part of the responsability on her. “If you only told me”. “See, what kind of guys are you hanging up with?” Part of the worry of the girl was her father’s reaction. She knew that he would take action against the two guys. Because they are so young I guess that french law will not take it very much seriously. The Policeman agreed with my colleague, if it was him, he wouldn’t go to any Police Station, but he would solve the problem his way.

Now, I voluntarily, omit details, but what I want to say is this. These girls will take a whole life to recover, of course, and there are more who are in the story. The fact is simple. Consider your teenage time, … do you remember the first time you found out porn stuff? My age, I was a little girl, when I found a comic with porn drawings, in black and white. It was in the backyard of the primary school, I was shocked and I remember that scary feeling like something really bad, dirty and dangerous could happen to me.

The very first hot movies started in 80s, at least, from the american movie making, with the erotic romantic comedy with Kim Basinger, “Nine weeks and a half”. Starring with a young, bold and beautiful Mickey Rourke at his early career.



This image was iconic and although I never watched this movie, the soundtrack spot “You can leave your hat on” is still there. In 1986 I was only 12. Time to wake up in a romantic meaning. By the way, that stuff of being sexy didn’t appeal me at all. As tomboy, boyscout and volleyball/soccer player, sure prince charming was already my obsession but in a despair. A shy girl who liked timid boys. Go away.

Sexuality spread on tv screen not earlier than a certain late hour (midnight?). Until a tv melting blob popped up all trash scenes from movies at 8 pm while having dinner with my family.

Let’s move in a quick time lapse from 90s to today. 


Did you recognize it? My hairdresser was reading this cult book and told me about fans writing sequels of similar soft sexy novels ( one reason why I’ve started doing my hair by my self lol ). “Fifty shades of grey.”


Underscoring the discrepancies in social mores throughout Europe, “Fifty Shades of Grey” was judged much more strictly in the U.K., where the movie has been given an “18” certification for “unusual behavior and graphic nudity.”

In France, however, teenagers will get to see the movie, which features numerous sex scenes. In fact, Jean-François Mary, who presides over the French ratings board, said “Fifty Shades of Grey” was nothing more than a “romance.”

“It’s really a romance, we could even call it a bleuette — a sentimental tale,” said Mary of the board’s decision to allow adolescent moviegoers into the movie.

The Gallic board even considered not restricting the movie for audiences under 12, according to Premiere magazine. “The director handled the sex scenes very skillfully and limited them to the bare minimum. It’s more the subject itself, this SM relationship, which pushed us to restrict the movie for audiences under 12.” —

Shall I add something?

Yes, …one of my fave Ted Talks ever.

The Pursuit of Happiness vs Search of Meaning.


When I started to look for my purpose, I was recovering from occupational burn out, and PTSD ( except I didn’t understand it ). My doctor played a mentor’s role in the story and he pushed me to my life questioning. Before that, I was completely unaware and in so-called hamster wheel.

In february 2016, I lost a camerade, at work, for a stroke, at 7 am. He was, apparently, quarelling with his manager when he fell down on the ground.  They brought him to the hospital by a first aid helicopter, but it was too late. A stroke requires fast help, and perhaps, unhappily, it was not the case. When I arrived in the morning, I passed by the direction office, and heard the executive director preparing his speech for the team talk.

He was calling, on the phone, for all the team staff and occupational doctor, in order to announce that R. my brit camerade, aged 43, was lying in a hospital bed, waiting to cut his hoxygene off. They were just waiting for his parents to come from the UK. He left 4 children and a wife. Sure, you first wonder how it would be like if you were at his place. The fact is that in the early morning, at wake up, 6h45 am, I did my routine mindfulness meditation, and I remember addressing my Self to “above” to submit my service into something bigger than my ego, and my own will. If you see what I mean. We often ask and beg for what we want for us and we never put our selves in a humbling position.

Don’t ask what your Life can do for you, but what you can do for your Life“.

As soon as I stepped into the corridor of the management office, I had the gut feeling that I got my answer or, at least, for just that day. No more excuses, I needed to talk.

So, for the very first time, fearless, I crossed over the door of my executive director, in order to speak out loud and we finally had a powerful, understanding, conversation.  He was in dispair, it was his third loss in a few months, and right after the november attacks, which had such an impact on our workplace, and our spirit. To minimize, my manager tried to tell me that all of us have personal situations which put our health in danger. Work issues wasn’t concerned. Invisible wounds and stress disorders cannot be taken seriously – at a work environement – as a proof of stroke, heart attack or any other health disease, because if you survive, there is a clause of confidentiality. They keep it as a secret. You’d better not talk about. That’s how people get depressive and suicidal, what the hell.

“They say that your purpose is what you struggle with.”

So, the promise I have made to my Self, in that dark upsetting morning, was precisely to take responsability for Me and My own Life. To be honest, from 2015 to 2017, I’ve been writing a memoir in my mother language, that I have tried to get published, but no one showed up unless ahaha! some editing publisher from Rome who complimented me and, as offer, asked me 1500 euros to get my work published. Never mind. What’s the main purpose of all this writing, I wondered, if not healing and sharing? 



In her book “The Power of Meaning,” Emily Esfahani Smith rounds up the latest research — and the stories of fascinating people she interviewed — to argue that the search for meaning is far more fulfilling than the pursuit of personal happiness.


Our culture is obsessed with happiness. Even though we devote vast amounts of time and resources trying to be happier, many of us feel aimless and alienated nonetheless. With depression and loneliness trending upward for decades and the suicide rate rising around the world — recently reaching a 30-year high in the United States — it’s clear that something is wrong. In recent years, social scientists have been trying to understand what exactly the problem is. What they’ve found is striking. What predicts the rising tide of despair sweeping across society is not a lack of happiness. It’s a lack of something else — a lack of having meaning in life. In fact, chasing and valuing happiness, the way our culture encourages us to do, can actually make people unhappy.

This set Smith on a journey to understand what constitutes a meaningful life. After extensive research and reporting, she came to see that there are four pillars of a meaningful life — and she lays them out in her TED Talk. Ultimately, she discovered that the search for meaning is far more fulfilling than the pursuit of personal happiness — and we all have the power to build more meaning in our lives.

With courtesy of Ted Talk’s Ideas worth spreading