Z_PROVISORY-to be transformed into post – about me

This is an extended version of my story so be prepared for a long text and swearing. I guess I work in binary code, 0 or 1, black or white. This is me. I don’t do short. Or corny. If it’s still too much for you, you can jump straight to my photos. I heard they’re pretty.

As a youngster, I loved writing for school assignments and I even got published in my school newspaper where I wrote an article that we could classify as being, almost, Sci-Fi. I still don’t know where I got that idea from and even today my mum still says that she has no clue. Well, cutting a long story short, I have always been around books, thanks to my mum and my grandmother, and I’ve always had a colourful imagination.

When taking the plunge is the easy bit…

It never crossed my mind to pursue writing as a career. I was raised in a society that appreciates someone who works in an office more so, managing a big team (nothing wrong with that as my dad spent more than 40 years doing that and he absolutely loved it) than someone who has word chaos in their mind and has something to say through their writing. But it is not all society’s fault. My inner voice was calling out very shallowly and I just went for the easy and expected track, enrolling on the same degree as my dad. I have a Masters in Electrical Engineer and I have always worked in the telecommunications field. And only now, after overcoming several less good moments in my life, have I truly found out what I am meant to do.

My motto for this blog is, to be honest with myself. No more secrecies around shit that at the end of the day is what it says on the tin, shit.

My motto for this blog is, to be honest with myself. No more secrecies around shit that at the end of the day is what it says on the tin. Shit, I guess I had to hear my inner voice when I hit rock bottom. I had to grab something to pick me up and that was it. I gave up. I needed to fucking hear it.

I will never forget going out for lunch (trying to, as sometimes my throat shuts down on me and no food goes in; thank you, anxiety; thank you for making me slimmer when my dad had a serious health problem) and looking outside from Pret’s window seats at all those corporate workers running around miserably. It was a grey day, typical London, and I was at the most miserable point in my life. I didn’t believe in my work and in my capability to do so. I felt like a fish out of water. My medication was making me feel like a zombie like I was frozen and everything around me was moving and I couldn’t as my body didn’t respond nor did my mind. The anti-depressants were fucking getting me and I couldn’t let it go on. No. I am a happy person. I have all the reasons and more to be happy. And I fucking deserve to be happy. I fucking deserve it.

My inner voice had to wait thirteen years to be heard. My mind and my body had to cope with thirteen years of anxiety, panic attacks, highs and lows with depression to finally hit me.

When you enter the tube to go to work crying and feeling like a total loser you know you need to do something. And I did. Luckily I had a team of angels by my side to help me take the plunge and quit my job. Did not know what to do after that. No safety net whatsoever. I only knew I had my husband by my side. And by this point not even my parents knew. A burden I thought was one not to be shared with my loved ones. Fucking stupid. I felt the pressure to carry the world on my shoulders when I shouldn’t have to. I was lucky to have someone alongside this journey, clearing the sweat drops from my forehead and saying I was doing great all the way.

My inner voice had to wait thirteen years to be heard. My mind and my body had to cope with thirteen years of anxiety, panic attacks, highs and lows with depression to finally hit me. I wasn’t quitting. I have never quit anything in my life. And if I did, nothing wrong would come from that. I was taking charge of my life. Of me. Of my health and happiness. And fuck conventions. And fuck society who thinks you should work from 9 to 5 on a desk to be accomplishing something in life. This is what I am meant to do. So fuck that.

One does not have to be defined by one career path; I consider myself a crazy balance between logical and non-logical.

My words are strong and in your face but this is me. This is who I am. But before I go, I just want to share a bit more about my path in life before my Eureka moment. And as a true Engineer, I will do so the way that I know best (one does not have to be defined by one career path; I consider myself a crazy balance between logical and non-logical). Through bullet points. Not very writer like but I kind of consider these as a form of poetry (purists, this is not a place for judgment so keep away from the comments area):

  • Date of birth: a glorious Tuesday, the 11th of October 1983.
  • Place of birth: the most amazing and tiny island of Madeira in Portugal (if I could choose where to born, I would most certainly choose it).
  • Lineage:
    • Mum is called Ana and she is the most beautiful woman in the world. She had a rough start to life and has been through a lot. People consider her as fragile. They simply don’t know her. She is the fucking strongest person I know. And has the best legs as well, so says, my Dad.
    • Talking about Dad. Mario is the name and on my phone each time I have a call from him I get Super Mario on the screen. Yes, he is my Super Man. He was a very successful company director and chose his family over a promotion. He always tells the same joke over and over and always laughs like it is the first time he hears it. He loves to drive (fast) and football. So do I. Who knew?
  • Loved spending afternoons cooking with my mum on our tiny sunkissed kitchen.
  • Went to Catholic school and was always that annoying girl who knew everything, top of the class and the nun’s favourite. Loved their pastries. That’s why I made sure I finished my assignments before anyone to cut everyone at the break’s queue.
  • Loved looking at the sky. Wanted to be an astronomer. Dad said it wouldn’t pay much. Gave up on it.
  • Own a red Fiat Sport Coupe from 1970. Dad’s gift to me. Learnt how to drive on a white Fiat 1100D from 1962 with my Dad by my side ordering me to go faster.
  • Crazy about football. Spent almost all of my Sunday’s afternoons in my local football team’s stadium eating lupini beans and trying to convince my Dad to let me have a bit of his beer. Joined my favourite football team in two European finals, which we won (yes!!!) with my Dad by my side.
  • Left home at 17 to go to Lisbon and enroll on a Masters in Electrical Engineering. Cried like a baby as soon as my Teacher congratulated me on the success of my thesis.
  • Met my husband at 17. He only made an advance on me at 20(!) and it only took me two months to know he was the one (I’m a spur of the moment person but in regards to relationships I guess I always ran away from them so it took me a while to be convinced, but two months of free dinners was totally worth it; now we split the bills)
  • Travelled to over fifteen different countries with my husband. Got proposed to in Bali in August 2012.
  • Married in September 2013. Husband got a job offer in London. Wife moved to London in January 2014, after 12 years living in Lisbon.
  • Had to travel up to Birmingham to finally get acquainted with the words “being responsible for”. Our sweet and stubborn puppy’s called Ja’Crispy and he is the best looking miniature Schnauzer in town (hipsters of London, you have nothing on my puppy’s beard).

Pretty much my life summed up. The good bits. The shitty ones I will be sharing along this crazy journey of me trying to convince myself “I am worth it”, “I am a writer in the making.”

“I am worth it”, “I am a writer in the making.”

I truly hope that sharing my words, my struggles, my highs, my lows, my travelling adventures, my career footsteps and my moments alone with anxiety and depression can encourage you to pursue your dreams and to fight your fight with weapons fully loaded.

Thank you to all my pillars that have always been there for me and resisted storms and strong winds. Thank you my love, thank you mum, thank you dad, thank you grandma, thank you my gorgeous (and stubborn) puppy, thank you faith, thank you my true friends, thank you football, thank you gin & tonic, thank you Lenny Kravitz, thank you “Allo, Allo”, thank you gin & tonic (intentional repetition), thank you pen and paper, thank you pizza, thank you “House of Cards”, thank you brunch, thank you London.


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