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I lost my first language

This is the thing more difficult… write about me, my personal life… it’s simple written using the imagination, I thought a lot before decide what story I would shoot, and in that moment a dream came to my mind, those dreams that reflect my fears. Actually, anyone who looks at that dream from outside, they'll think over this is much fun… but at that moment I experienced it was a nightmare. Of course then when I woke up, I found also funny and silly.

Almost eight months ago I took a journey up to US, my main goal it’s learning English, but when I started this adventure my English was over the ground, I couldn’t speak clear, simply my first months were a torture, between the adaptation of a new place, and adding new language, it’s when the dreams began to emerge.

My first weeks were to be in an unknown world, I preferred to lock up myself in my bedroom and not hear English anymore, I despaired trying to communicate and the people didn’t understand me or I didn’t understand anything that they told me. I knew I had to go out to civilization and coexist, but I was so tired thinking in English, that the end of the day I ended with mental exhaustion and headaches, One month after everything started to improve, and I got out more frequently, I understood more, and I communicated better. Then came that dream where I went back to my life with my parents, my friends, family, I was back in reality again, but time was escaping away from me.... But it was flipped, otherwise I didn’t remember the Spanish, I had trouble breathing, how it’s possible, in my hometown and I didn’t know how to be talking to my people. That was frustrating, I was filled with anxiety as soon as I realized I was in this situation... But more frustrating was that my English was poor but my Spanish was gone completely. My body expression began to improve, and the people around me started to get used to my sign language ... I had this dream a couple of times, and the times when I had this dream I awoke from that dream, alone in my bed, thinking how absurd it was and I took my phone and call someone to make sure that the Spanish was inside my mind.

They’re weird… the dreams... the inside of them… how they look real, it’s a game of the mind, where they are real while going on over the deep sleep. In the dream when I lost my knowledge in Spanish, I felt that I gave the face of the reality to my fears and back again, with the story that never finishes where the nightmare is my present, my problem isn’t the Spanish, it’s the English… whatever I’m working to improve every day.


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