My readings describing cases where a person killed himself, as a result of having experienced what for others could have been inconsequential events, did not prepare me for the time when I would be in a similar emotional space. And here I was feeling embarrassed and ready to collapse completely over someone who made fun of my accent or repeated my name as if it was a joke to change its pronunciation, or facing your colleagues who created a caricature of your persona, simply because you smile when seeing them as most Puerto Ricans do when passing each other in the street or an office, or having to repair an air conditioner because the buyers of my apartment wanted a new one. Little details were pushing me to want to disappear completely from the face of the earth. Not only the emotion felt at every moment when facing the particular event disturbed me deeply, but the awareness of what I was going through, the valuing of how stupid the whole thing was, created, at times, a sense of internal emptiness, and when having some sense, life looked like a shattered mirror.
(from the book in .pdf., My Bilingual New York, June 2019)
(from the book in .pdf., My Bilingual New York, June 2019)
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