#But the long con of molding Kevin day into the star he is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

francescamartinoli-blog · 6 years ago

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MANGIA - GAME

You haven't been feeling like yourself. In fact, you think it's been months since you've really felt normal. Although, honestly, you're not even sure what you mean by "feeling normal" — you do know, that it's not how you're feeling now.

Questo gioco interattivo, si basa sull’esperienza, di una malattia cronica. Per ora non mi sento diversa nel dare questa risposta, d'altronde è anche l’unica che posso dare visto che fa solo continuare la narrazione.

IMMAGINE – ONDULATA

Your cell phone is buzzing—it's mom. Answer. Ignore.

Mia madre sicuramente si starà preoccupando di quello che mi passa per la testa, e decido di rispondere così per tranquillizzarla.

Mom: "Why didn't you answer any of my calls this weekend." You: "I was really tired. Last week was stressful and I just wanted to relax." Mom: "Well Kevin and I went out to the mall and..." You're pretty annoyed that she didn't even care to ask why you'd been stressed. Tell her you have to go, because you have homework to do, and hang up. Hear her out.

Decido di ascoltare il discorso, così da non pensare a ciò che mi sta accadendo. Ovviamente mamma mi ha chiamato, spesso e sono stata io a non risponderle perché avevo altro per la testa, vuole solo sapere se sto bene. Mi fa sentire amata dopo tutti i problemi che ho.

Mom: "It was so funny! Here I was, with Kevin, and he was trying to get me to buy this Teletubbies DVD. This woman walks by us and I'm like, she looks really familiar. Then, someone yells out her name, they yell Hollis! And I realized that she was one of the famous models from the 70s that I'd been shot with a few times..." Cut her off--tell her you have homework to do and hang up. Tell her: "Cool, that must have been exciting."

Rispondo che deve essere stato eccitante e mi sento molto contenta per lei dopo che ha visto una sua grande ispiratrice.

Mom: "It was. Then we left the mall because Kevin needed to use the bathroom, and you know, we're still doing the potty training thing." You: "Yeah." Mom: "You sound upset—what's the matter anyways?" You: "Nothing, I'm just tired. You know, school and whatever..." Mom: "Is something wrong with you and Emmett?" You: "Oh my god mom, no, we're great." Mom: "What else could possibly be bothering you?" You: "Uhh I just haven't been feeling great." Mom: "Well, get some rest. I'm going to head out now because I have to pick up Kevin from the therapists." You: "Ok, bye."

Ormai ci siamo dette tutto, e lei aveva da fare, ho un fratellino più piccolo a cui deve badare. Solo mi dispiace che non sia qui con me a sostenermi, ma non la voglio pesare di altri problemi… ormai sono grande e non voglio essere un peso per nessuno. Cosi la saluto.

IMMAGINE – ONDULATA

You don't really like talking to your mom. All she cares about is your weight, and if you bought any new clothes recently. She always asks about how school is going, but doesn't seem very interested in the details. Call your boyfriend instead. Go to the kitchen for a snack.

Mangiare non risolve i miei problemi così decido di chiamare il mio ragazzo che magari con lui riuscirei a sfogarmi, solo in lui riesco a trovare conforto e tutto ciò di cui ho bisogno.

Emmett: "Hey, how are you?" You: "I'm alright—so tired though." Emmett: "You've been really tired lately, like... a lot. Maybe you should take a day off from work?" You: "I can't—I've already taken off too many days lately. I basically have no sick days left." Emmett: "Ok, well... can I come over tonight?" You: "I was hoping you'd like to. I just got off the phone with my mom, so I'm sort of stressed out. I'd love some company." Emmett: "Sure, I'll be over in an hour. I'm gonna run and get my bag together, ok?" You: "Sure, ok, I love you. See you soon." Emmett: "Bye!" Go get a snack from the kitchen. Begin to prepare dinner for two.

Decido di fare qualcosa per non pensare ai miei problemi e sono così contenta che sta sera sarò tra le braccia del mio ragazzo, da non star più nella pelle ed inizio a preparare subito la cena.

You decide to make some pasta, because you're not a very good cook and it's a really easy thing to make. While you wait for it to boil, you go into your bathroom to look in the mirror. You see some black stains on the ceiling above you in your reflection. You have to remember to get your landlord to come check it out—it might be mold, you think. Have some Cheeze-It's while the water heats up. Shut the bathroom door and look in the full-length mirror.

Decido di stare nella mia intimità e vedere come sto e come mi sento… Mi sento un po in ansia per sapere come sono.

You look in the mirror and lift your shirt up. You stare at your stomach—it feels full and uncomfortable. It's odd, because you haven't eaten in a few hours. You stand there staring at your stomach, and wonder why you stopped going to the gym. You would like to blame grad school, but you really just feel too tired to go most of the time. You think your mom would probably kill you if she saw you in a swimsuit. Check to see if the water is boiling. Continue to look at yourself in the mirror.

Cerco di continuare a guardare lo specchio disgustata e di capire dove sto sbagliando, in sto periodo sono stanca e stufa di fare tutto, quasi di vivere mi sento senza un obiettivo.

You look at yourself in the mirror and remember being really little, like 12 years old, at a birthday party. This girl whose birthday party it was... well, she was very athletic, and proud of it. She told everyone at the party (we were all girls) to lift their shirts up so that we could see who had the flattest tummy. You had always been pretty round as a child. You weren't huge, but you definitely felt like your stomach protruded more than all of the other girls. Your friend walked around, commenting on everyone's stomach. She got to you and poked you, hard, right above the belly button. You could almost hear a squishing sound in your head, and she said "your tummy is so round, Nina!" Your phone is buzzing.

Mi ricordo tutte l’esperienze passate e mi angoscio al pensiero di essere stata quella più in carne tra tutte le mie amiche. Non volevo essere diversa, ma gli altri non facevano altro che farmelo notare. Mi sento costantemente a disagio col mondo e con me stessa. Il mio telefono sta vibrando, deve essere il mio ragazzo.

You made a stupid tweet about Pokemon earlier and it got a bunch of retweets. That's pretty cool. You also have a calendar notification for tomorrow—a doctor's appointment. It's with a gastroenterologist. You got an endoscopy recently, because you'd been having some weird stomach and chest pain. Everyone says it's probably just acid reflux, but your aunt has a hernia, so they told you it was best to get checked anyways. You're a little anxious about the appointment, but you think it'll go fine. Emmett's calling--he must be outside.

Sapere di avere un appuntamento col medico sicuramente mi mette in agitazione, soprattutto con i problemi che ha avuto mia zia… Continuo la storia, Emmett che deve essere fuori casa.

You run downstairs and open the door for Emmett.

You have been dating Emmett for seven or eight months. His apartment is in Manhattan, and it's tiny, so he usually stays over at your place. In fact, he basically stays over every night. You've never been in a relationship for this long, so you feel really strongly that you want it to last.

You go up into your apartment together, kiss, and sit down on the couch. Emmett: "Want to watch some anime and eat dinner? I'm starving." You: "Sure! I made some pasta." While you serve the pasta, tell Emmett about the issues you've been having with you mom. Bring the food back and put on Netflix so that you can watch some anime.

Decido di non pesare su Emmett e di caricarlo anche dei miei problemi… Così porto la pasta e metto su un anime facendo finta di nulla. Anche senza confidarmi so che li ci tiene a me come io ci tengo che stiamo insieme e al suo fianco sono felice.

He says that you should put on Trigun, since they'd already started it last night. You tell him that that sounds good. While you put it on, you tell Emmett that, if you'd been watching this as a teenager, you would have probably finished it in a single night. You used to always download anime, and would lock yourself in your computer room for days at a time, just watching all of these shows. Your mom would always get mad, and would call you lazy. Your dad even once got so annoyed that he ripped the computer off the desk and held it out the window like he was going to drop it, unless, he said, "you turn off all the damn video games and cartoons and go outside." Emmett opens his eyes really big and says, "he ripped it out of the wall? Oh my god." You nod, and sprinkle some cheese on your pasta. You tell him that your dad was pretty mean, but your mom was always way worse because she was passive aggressive. Tell him how your mom always made you feel guilty. Tell him about the time your ripped all of your moms magazines up.

Le due scelte fanno ribrezzo… mia madre non mi ha mai fatto sentire in colpa. E soprattutto mai e poi mai mi sarei permessa di strappare le sue riviste. Ma il gioco è questo e decido di non fargli sapere che sono stata così cattiva da strappargli le riviste ma faccio la vittima. E mi sento disgustata a dare questa risposta, perché nessuna madre si merita queste parole da un figlio.

You tell Emmett about how you were always snacking as a kid. You'd finish a bag of goldfish in an hour flat—in fact, you and your friend Kate used to make goldfish addiction jokes all the time. You would also eat food in secret, because you sometimes felt too guilty to eat while your mom was around. So, you'd often tell your mom that you were going to meet up with some friends to go for a walk, but really, you and your friends would go get a slice of pizza. Sometimes, you'd even take money out of her wallet so that you could buy candy from the dollar store. Emmett says he doesn't blame you for wanting pizza. He says that it must have driven you crazy, to feel like your eating habits were being policed. You nod and wrap some pasta up on your fork. Eat up.

Mangio e mi sento bene, la pasta è proprio buona, mangiare è bello anche se a volte può logorarti sentirti in colpa per come mangi. Mi dispiace solo che mia mamma e mio padre non capiscano le mie passioni.

IMMAGINE – ONDULATA

The noodles are steamy. They smell and taste good, and suddenly you're ravenous. You eat a few forkfuls and lean back onto the couch. Emmett goes to get you both some water, and you take a few more bits of pasta.

Ho fame e sono stressata, non vorrei esagerare. È l’unica risposta possibile e mi rassegno.

IMMAGINE – ONDULATA

Your chest feels tight—it's almost like asthma. It couldn't be though, because you would be wheezing. Emmett brings back the water, and you gulp some down and it feels good. You eat more of the pasta—you're almost done.

Faccio fatica a mangiare e mi sento piena e nauseata, non so se è un bene continuare.

IMMAGINE – SCARABOCCHIO

Your stomach feels hot and full, almost bursting. The heat in your stomach feels like it's rising, and you feel it sharply in your chest. Nausea rolls over you, and you sit forward, hunched and quiet. Emmett is still enjoying his food, and he looks over at you. "Are you alright? You look really pale?" he says. You tell him that your chest is in pain. Your chest is in severe pain and you have no idea why.

Mi sento male, mi fa paura e mi mette in ansia tutto ciò, e se stessi per morire? Non può essere, vero? Non so essere obiettiva, mi sento in paranoia…

IMMAGINE – SCARABOCCHIO

Why would your chest start hurting suddenly? Were you choking? It almost felt like choking—or like someone had taken your esophagus, and was twisting it round and round until it was taut. Every second, in a steady beat, a sharp pain stabbed the very middle of your chest. You're so confused, and horrified. "I have no idea what's going on inside my body," you say, and you're crying. You curl up into a ball and press your forehead into your knees. You're wondering if you'll die. . . .

Evidentemente avevo ragione… anche io poco prima mi sono posta la stessa cosa… mi sento una veggente. Scherzi a parte non so cosa aspettarmi… come ho già detto la situazione è la precedente.

IMMAGINE – SCARABOCCHIO CON PROFILO DI DONNA

You wake up, and Emmett's already sitting on the couch with his laptop in the living room. He sees you roll over, and walks back into your room and gets into the bed. He pulls you over and squeezes you. "Morning—how are you feeling?" he says. You tell him that you're feeling ok—just sort of drained. Last night was rough. You tell him that you've got to get going because you have that doctor's appointment. Have sex, and show up to your appointment a little late. Go take a shower and walk to the train with Emmett.

Con tutti i problemi e le paturnie che mi faccio mi ci vorrebbe un po di affetto, e non penso a ciò che il dottore oggi mi dirà…

You're not like super horny or anything—but, if you have sex, you think that you'll be in a much better mood. Honestly, you woke up feeling emotionally drained, like you had just lost a pet cat or something. You really needed a reminder that you weren't alone, especially right before this potentially awful doctor's appointment. You have sex, but you're not super into it—you have a lot of trouble getting your mind off of the pain from last night. You're not in pain anymore, but you can still feel where it hurt. You can't stop thinking about it, no matter how good the sex feels. It seems to make Emmett feel better though, which makes you happy. You run to the bathroom to brush your teeth—the black spots on the ceiling are still there. You text your landlord, because he was supposed to take care of that a while ago. You throw on some clothes and head to the doctor's.

Anche dopo che abbiamo finito, non mi sento appagata, sono sommersa da una moltitudine di pensieri e tutto ciò mi provoca tensione nel sapere che cosa mi sta capitando.

Whenever you're feeling down, you tend to listen to the same kinds of music—droney, electronic, sad stuff. You always do this, and you feel like it must be pretty lame. You look at everyone else on the subway—it's 9:00 AM, so they all look like they're heading to work. You pause your music, and the train is silent, except for the hiss of the engine and the momentary clash of wheels on the tracks. You play your music again—the noises in the subway make you feel lonely. Everyone looks so sad. There's an old man in a worn-out plaid coat standing next to a young man with a leather suitcase. The old man's eyes are shut, and the young man is reading something on his iPad. You think that the old man has probably had a hard life—you wonder if he has a job, or a family. You don't think he ever had an iPad, and you feel bitter towards the young man, who gets off at this stop. You have to get off too, and you wonder if the old man will ever get off the train. You walk a few blocks to the doctor's office.

Non pensare alla mia vita, e vedere quella degli altri, mi fa star meglio. Anzi non mi fa sentire bene, so che la tensione sta salendo e così evito solo di pensare al peggio.

"I'm here to see Dr. Li," you say to the girl at the front desk. She recognizes you, and tells you to wait and he'll be right out. He is, indeed, quick, and you walk into his office a few minutes later.

Ecco ora la tensione diventa sempre più forte, sono in bilico tra delusione e inadeguatezza, entro e vediamo cosa mi dirà. Tutto ciò porta con se tanta ansia.

He tells you that he will review the results of the endoscopy with you, and that he wants you to ask any questions that you might have. Questions...? You shift in your seat, leaning on the arm rest.

La cosa sembra al quanto grave… mi sento un po rassegnata.

IMMAGINE – ONDULATA

"You don't have a hernia," he says, "but there were a few issues." You feel a little bubble expanding in your stomach, it feels faintly like the heat from last night.

Spero mi sappia dare delle risposte urgenti, al più presto. Voglio solo che le cose me le dica il più presto possibile, voglio torgliermi questo peso e capire come posso aiutarmi. L’ansia mi assale oltre alla nausea.

IMMAGINE – ONDULATA

"You have a mild case of gastritis, which will go away after a couple weeks of medication. It's really not a big deal at all—it's some inflamation of the tissue in your stomach." You can feel your chest rising and falling with each one of your breaths, in and out.

Gastrite… pensavo molto peggio di così. Eppure non mi spiego tutto questo dolore. Non riesco a sentirmi tranquilla con tutto questo male al petto.

IMMAGINE ONDULATA

"You also have..." and he shuffled around some papers on his desk, pulling out a photo of... something pink—clearly, a picture of something in your body. "You have a condition called eosinophilic esophagitis." . . .

Ecco la famosa cosa grave che mi aspettavo… in realtà per ora non so cos’è ne come si può curare ma mi sento rassegnata a tutto ciò.

IMMAGINE – SCARABOCCHIO CON PROFILO DI DONNA

eosinophilic esophagitis eosinophilic esophagitis eosinophilic esophagitis ecc “” your head feels like an echo chamber and your stomach feels like a living creature, fighting to expel itself from your body.

Più la vedo scritta più mi destabilizza e non riesco a rimanere calma.

Eosinophilic esophagitis," said Dr. Li, "essentially means that there are rings on the inside of your esophagus—inflamed rings. These rings are what's making it difficult for you to swallow. The burning sensation in your stomach is the gastritis. Unfortunately, eosinophilic esophagitis doesn't have any proven treatment." You're not sure that you understand what the doctor is saying anymore. All you know is that everything around you feels and sounds loud. "However, of course, we need to deal with your issues swallowing. There's a treatment that's... not well studied, but I have used it with other patients and some have found success. You will need to take two puffs of a steroid inhaler daily—puffing onto your tongue, and swallowing the substance. You'll also need to avoid foods that are not easy to chew, like chicken, because you're at higher risk for choking that the average person." You can see the noodles from last night, and all the tough vegetables, on your white plate. "The steroid inhaler isn't very good for you—but you must know that, because of your asthma. So we'll give it a try, but I'll need to check on you fairly frequently." He continues to tell you about the dangers of steroids, and the kinds of foods you should avoid—but all you can think about is the white plates at your apartment, full of food. You leave with a prescription and a follow-up appointment in a month.

Potrei morire soffocata quando mangio, e la cosa non mi entusiasma… mi sta venendo paura… il cibo non sarà più lo stesso dovrò lottare tutti i giorni con la vita e la morte. Mangio per permettermi di vivere, uso un apparecchio per permettermi di non morire… Se mi capitasse davvero una cosa del genere mi sentirei terrorizzata.

IMMAGINE – DOCS

Call Emmett. Call mom.

Chiamo mia mamma perché deve essere la prima a sapere cosa mi sta accadendo e se sto bene, lei è l’unica che può starmi vicina in momento simile… Resto demoralizzata.

Mom: "What happened? You talked to the doctor?" You're standing on the corner of the corner of Lafayette and Grand St. You still have to go to work, but you're stuck on the corner. Your whole body feels like it's being crushed by the weight of a steel anchor. You can't even blink. Mom: "Hello? Nina?" ...

Non so che dirle esattamente… mi sento morire.

IMMAGINE – MEMORY

You feel a sob tear through your throat and into the phone. You're not sure what you're more upset about—showing your mom how weak you are, or your newly diagnosed chronic health problem. "I'm not ok, I have a condition." You hear yourself saying "a condition" in your head. You're saying it over and over. Mom: "Well—tell me what he said." "My esophagus is swollen... there's these rings. It's called eosinophilic esophagitis. That's... I have to eat soft things now. I can have soup. No chicken. No Vegetables. No Popcorn... I could choke." Mom: "So, you just need to get a blender and watch what you eat." Hang up on your mom. Tell her that you're afraid to swallow anything.

Ansia e terrore di provare a mangiare qualsiasi cosa.

You: "I don't want to eat anything." You can feel your face getting hot. You know that you're easily provoked by your mom, because she often jumps to conclusions before you're ready to hear them. You feel like she's being insensitive. Mom: "Try to think about the positive side. This will help you have a better diet. You'll lose some weight." Hang up on your mom. Continue arguing with her.

Io non posso credere che mia madre per una cosa così delicata possa pensare a tutto quello che possa riguardare una dieta… mi sento davvero arrabbiata e non posso che continuare a discutere.

You: "I just got diagnosed with a DISEASE and you're going to tell me that it's a good thing? This is insane. I should probably just kill myself. Maybe then you'd be satisfied with my body." Mom: "Nina, that's not fair. You shouldn't say things like that. I'm just trying to help. You need to be more healthy now that you have this condition." Tell her that you're sorry. Hang up.

Le chiudo il telefono in faccia, davvero come può pensare a una cosa simile… mi fa infuriare.

You are in disbelief—you always knew that your mom was harsh, but it seems to be totally insane for her to be insensitive about your sudden condition. You can barely contain your anger, which just makes you more upset. You wonder if you'll ever stop crying. More importantly, though, you're at work. And your face is wet and red. You're not sure you want anyone to see you like this. Wash your fash in the bathroom. Go to your desk.

Magari non è il caso di far pena agli altri, mi lavo la faccia e mi do un contegno, pur sentendomi triste e sola…

The water at work is always freezing. It's alright though, because you went to the bathroom on the first floor—no one ever uses it, so you're alone. You can deal with the cold water as long as you're alone. You stand in front of the mirror and stare at your face. You look pale and you feel small. Your head feels like it's shrinking. It feels like your blood is thin. You rub a cheap paper towel on your face, and it leaves you more red than before. You're not sure you can avoid looking like a wreck at this point. Return to your desk.

Non posso farci niente, e me ne faccio una ragione… Senza voglia mi trascino alla scrivania. Amareggiata.

You're starting to wonder what you're going to eat tonight. You haven't even had lunch, to be honest, but your stomach feels too battered right now to even consider eating. ... The work day goes by quickly. You spend most of it thinking about what you're going to eat tonight. Definitely not pasta, you thought, especially after last night... that pain. All you have other than that, though, is chicken. The doctor said chicken was a choking hazard. You feel nauseous just thinking about it. It's five. Go home. Go to the grocery store.

Vado a casa, non mi va di vedere cibo con cui posso morire soffocata… vado a casa e mi sento stanca e indifferente quasi a tutto.

You strip off your clothes and crawl into bed, wrapping yourself up in your comforter. You don't even have the energy to go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You lay on your side and bring your knees to your chest. You're tired, but you can't seem to shut your eyes. All you can do is think about what you could have had for dinner. Bread, quiche, pizza, meatballs, steak, pork buns... These are all things that you can't eat anymore.

Devo dire che è davvero deprimente, non poter più mangiare determinate cose, è davvero triste.

IMMAGINE – MELA

IMMAGINE – ZUPPA

IMMAGINE – POLLO

IMMAGINE – PATATINE

IMMAGINE – CAROTA

You jerk suddenly and wake up—your phone is vibrating. It's Emmett. You: "...Hello?" Emmett: "Hey, I'm outside." You: "Ok, hold on." You go downstairs to let him in. He shuts the door and hugs you. The two of you stand together, and it's warm. You lean your forehead into his shoulder and shut your eyes. Tell him that you haven't eaten dinner. Lie, and tell him that you ate before he got there.

Non mi va di mangiare dopo tutto quello che è successo, tra le sue braccia mi sento al sicuro e so di poter star bene se sono con lui… ma preferisco mentirgli piuttosto che star male o di soffocare per colpa del cibo…

Emmett: "What did you eat today?" You: "Oatmeal." Emmett: "...for breakfast?" You: "...yeah." Emmett: "You're not a very good liar—you know that. I'll make you soup. I can't watch you starve yourself." Tell him you're tired and that you want to go to bed. Sit down on the couch and wait.

Preferisco dormire piuttosto che morire soffocata da qualsiasi cosa… mi sento rassegnata dalla situazione.

You: "Soup..." You say it and feel weak. You feel nauseous even thinking about eating, but you know that it's for the best. Emmett makes you a bowl of chicken noodle soup. The bowl is full, and it looks huge to you. You can't imagine eating the whole thing, but you'll try. You know that Emmett is right—starving isn't good. No matter how tempting it is, at this point. You dip your spoon into the bowl, bringing up a pool of broth to your lips. You take a sip, and it feels warm and nice. You swallow, and it feels like the liquid is scraping the rings on your esophagus away. Emmett: "How was that?" You nod with approval, and scoop up a few of the noodles. You eat them, chewing thoroughly, and everything goes well. You start to feel full. Finish the soup.

Finalmente sono riuscita a mangiare qualcosa con l’aiuto Emmett, mi sento appagata e nutrita e il suo amore mi fa stare meglio.

IMMAGINE – PIANTO

It feels like there's a balloon expanding inside of your stomach. You feel it getting bigger and bigger, stretching your gut beyond comfort. It feels just like last night—with your insides heating up like a furnace. You bring your knees up to your forehead, squeezing yourself tight into a ball. Emmett: "Are you ok?" You feel dizzy and nauseous. You wish you would just throw it all up—it would be better than feeling like this. Like your stomach might explode. Emmett: "Hey..." You: "I feel so full, it hurts." Emmett rubs your back, and asks if it would feel better to lie down. You say that you would, and that you think you just ate too much. The two of you walk into your room and lie down together. You fall asleep.

Anche se mi sono sentita morire di nuovo, sono riuscita a mangiare qualcosina.. quindi mi sento stranamente felice…

IMMAGINI

Which will you eat?

Patatine Mela Uva Formaggio Zuppa Banana

Your grandfather, Nanoo, always had a healthy appetite. He would inhale your Nana's dinners without pause, and would always ask for more. He loved to eat. He loved you and wanted you to grow up healthy and strong. He taught you how to spell your first word—milk. He made you spell it out loud: M-I-L-K. Then, he would take out a fountain pen, and you would write it clumsily onto his yellow notepad. He said that you needed to drink a lot of it—it would help you grow. At night, he would sit you down with a bowl of pasta and meatballs and he'd tell you "Mangia, Nina! Mangia!" He told you that it meant "Eat up!" He's not around anymore, but you'll never forget the oak table and the cupboard of antique china. His olive skin and black hair, and his low voice telling you to eat up. To live and eat and grow. ...

Ripensare a cosa significa mangiare e cosa voleva mia nonno per me mi mette un senso di malinconia…

The end.

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