Dimmi tutto… This is what my italian friends said to me as we would sit down over coffee when I lived in Italy. I always loved the expression, but it became all the more poignant when I heard it in english. My friend Stefano would sit me down with his thick accent and say, “Andrea! Tell me everything!” It was the best kind of invitation… and I love how it implies that we have all the time in the world, that there is no hurry, that there is nothing more important than you and your story.
Tell me everything.
I’ve been off the map lately. Wrought with anxiety and insomnia for most of last week, I thought I had gone round the bend on some of those days. I’ve never had insomnia like this before and sleeplessness with anxiety (attaching to thoughts and not being able to let go of them, fretting over silly details and decisions) is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
I tried several mantras… It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to sleep. There is nothing to do now…. and they would work for a bit before the thoughts would creep back in. Or the song… Something Ben was singing earlier in the day, about an itsy bitsy spider or a preschool Shabbat song playing over and over in my head.
I finally got some sleep last night, and ironically I am feeling tired which I think is a good thing. My life has become so full, so noisy, that when I finally stop and lay my head on the pillow, all of the unprocessed stuff of my psyche wants out. All of the hard stuff of life, all that energy seems to want a place to go. I haven’t been crying enough.
A friend who has been through a fair number of storms this year told me yesterday, “I think I just need to tell someone the story from beginning to end. The whole thing, however long that takes.” And I think I need that too. Someone to offer me the gift of that kind of presence, someone who can simply say, Andrea, tell me everything.
P.S. Don’t worry, I called a therapist for the job today. 😉