Cet article est un petit monologue que j’ai écris il y a quelques mois, et qui traite du syndrome post traumatique. Il a été écrit pour être récité, joué, ce que j’ai fait une fois, en rajoutant une petite introduction : mon personnage s’adressait à un groupe de parole, comme je l’ai fait moi même, à une époque. Je n’ai pas écrit ici les passages où elle s’adresse directement au groupe de parole : ça me semblait ne pas avoir de sens à l’écrit. J’aime beaucoup ce texte, je vous le poste donc ici. Je pense continuer de poster ici les contenus de mes carnets, de mes écrits personnels traitant de mon histoire. Ça me parait un bon destin pour mon petit blog moche.
Ce texte est en anglais, désolée. Le traduire l’aurait dénaturé. J’espère qu’il vous plaira. Peut être qu’un jour, je filmerai une récitation.
Something weird has been happening to me since I met him. It’s been what, five years now ? Four ? I haven’t seen him in a long time. I can’t even remember what his voice sounds like. But ever since I met him I can’t recognize myself in the mirror. I stare at those eyes and I see the face, but it’s a stranger’s face. It’s deformed, it’s almost repulsive, like things are not in their right place. My friends say it’s because of what he did, but I don’t know that he did something- he didn’t do anything, I’m fine. Got a new tattoo. Got six new tattoos, actually. Read somewhere that it would help me gain back control on myself. Like I need it. I got perfect control. It’s just I dont recognize my face sometimes but thats happens to everyone, doesn’t it ?
My friends say I’m gonna get better when I meet someone. I’m fine you know, but they say it’s going to get better, like, proper better.
My jaw hurts.
They say it’s gonna be better when I find someone. It’s ridiculous. Is it gonna heal my jaw ? Cause that’s really what’s been bothering me lately, you know, not that I’m alone, I’m just in a lot of pain and I dont know why. I don’t want to meet anyone. It makes me nervous, all the questions that it raises. Am I going to meet anyone soon ? Is it time to be loved now ? Time to be touched, mended, repaired ? Oh you’ll meet someone one day and they’ll really love you and they’ll be everything you need and they’re gonna make you better. They’re gonna fix everything that’s wrong with you, even your jaw !
But how do you know you’re being touched with love when love burns the same way hate does ? I feel like I’ve been stripped away from my skin, I feel like I’m only raw flesh and every finger that brushes me is like lemon on an open wound. And everywhere their skin touches mine my pores bleed.
Not something you want to see, is it ? I see that in the mirror sometimes. Juste raw flesh and blood. It’s like I’m a piece of meat, bones showing. I don’t know why I feel like this.
Why does my jaw hurt ?
They say it’s in my head and I guess it is but it feels so real. I feel like I change every time I’m not looking. My skin is getting rotten, my muscles are crumbling, my face is getting sunken, hollow, and even time I see it I get a feeling like a ball of led is falling in my stomach and my legs can’t carry me anymore and I feel myself shaking, just like when you see a stranger staring at you from the other end of an empty street, and you know you’re gonna have to walk past them and maybe they’ll kill you, and even if the stranger is more likely to be someone walking their dog you still feel like you’re going to die. That’s how I feel when I look at myself.
It’s not me.
It’s not mine. My body is not mine. It’s not mine. I’d like to give it back. If you’re not gonna let me own it, then don’t make me carry it, it’s heavy. My back hurts. It’s not mine and it’s ugly, I dont like it.
I forget what my face looks like and then when I see it I’m disappointed, I’m sad.
He broke my jaw once. At least it felt like he did. It was really dark so I don’t really remember, but it really hurt. I felt the bones cracking and the teeth popping out of my gums… Or maybe it was a dream ? I’m having a lot of weird dreams lately. The other day I had a really funny dream about a rabbit… I can’t remember. Anyway, after that my jaw was blue and purple for a long time. A month ? A week ? I don’t remember. It was a weird dream. That’s when I started to be startled by my own reflection.
Now you can’t see my broken jaw, right ? I think you’d see it if it had really happened. It doesn’t even hurt when I chew anymore. It’s fine.
I saw a doctor and he said it would help if I drew myself from memory. To see if I could picture my eyes, my forehead… Too bad I can’t draw, all I could do was (swallows) it still hurts when I swallow. What happened to me ?
I don’t think he broke my jaw. It was a game, he didn’t mean to do it. He was always playing games with me. Always in the dark. He knew I was afraid of the dark, so it made him laugh because I was afraid. It was funny. It was a fun kind of scared.
And then he broke my jaw.
No ! No, no, no, no. He didn’t ! I don’t remember. I’m lying. Maybe I asked him to pretend to break it, as a game. He said I’m lying so it must be true. I guess it hurts in my head. I don’t remember him breaking my jaw but I remember staring at him before he did, I remember looking up at him and realizing what was going on, realizing we weren’t playing anymore.
He’s nice, you know, he’s nice to me. Always says I have nice looks, you know, nice body, I guess.. It’s his now. It’s been his for years. His toy. He used to say that. I liked it. Thought it was endearing. Like a pet name. I guess it’s relevant cause you do break your toys when you’re a kid, you know ? And he…
I don’t remember what he did.
But now I can’t recognize myself in the mirror.
So he must have done something wrong, right ?
Why does my jaw still hurt ?
Cause I dont think he broke my jaw.
So what the fuck did he do to me ?