Alone
In a white bed and soft
which actually looks like me cold marble
and sad as the color of the pitch.
I have open,
They cut me.
They saw my heart.
That heart which belonged to an adult and lonely little girl
mature and at the same time devoid of feelings and emotions
that warm the spirit.
Shame.
What would they think those notorious white angels
finding me,
watching the pain, sadness and hatred
that harbored within me?
"In a little while you fall asleep:
I count to five.
One two three…"
And the four and the five never heard them.
Because I sank into a sleep
of which I would have never dared to speak.
A deep sleep
but devoid of dreams.
Aseptic.
As was the awakening.
With those damn plastic tubes
stuck in my delicate tummy.
And then the mirror.
watching
I could see the reflected image,
that of a bad girl,
which was rearranged,
put in place,
whose heart had a small hole
that was plugged.
But that hole was never closed
and it was from that day
that widened
and it became a chasm
that could not be filled by anything.
By anything.
So that nothing and I became,
little by little,
I sank into a life
that is none other than Death.
To allow me to write and relive that moment had to pass about ten years, I wrote these words when I was 20 years old. They worked at my heart when I was 10. Interatrial communication, open-heart surgery. Villa Torri, hospital, Bologna.
Luckily that time passes, the less harm than you want or do not want the experiences are mixed with our soul, our spirit and in so doing allow us to continue to live. But really these experiences so strong blend? Sometimes I have serious doubts about this, as if I had the feeling that even though my mind think "It's past now", my heart is not of the same opinion, as if I would keep somewhere the immense fear of being still put in the hands of people who fall asleep my body to open it, reclaim it, sew. Leaving unavoidable traces.
It would be nice to be able to write about how much this experience has changed me, and made me see the beauty of this life so fragile. In fact, my truth is that unlike a time when I felt a great sense of shame only to what had happened to me, in this visible scar in the chest, I now feel that remained in the fragility of each us a great strength lies. The fragility of the strength.
This photographic work has enriched me a lot as a photographer and as a person. I discovered the great value that photography may have in helping people, photography as a therapeutic aid. With a few clicks we made an opening path of disclosure and awareness of a deep wound. Intense and delicate moments that finally allowed you to be "fair and concluded" and no longer afraid.
Now, thanks to the display of these images, we bring our experience out into the world, and we share our thoughts, that change is possible, we just need to let go all our strengths and be aware that we need help to reborn. Thank you.