字體：小 中 大 |
|
|
|
| 2010/06/11 07:20:41瀏覽888｜回應6｜推薦0 | |
 那天讀到這篇文章, 很感動, 是一位溫市東端毒癮患者的作品. 試著翻譯, 原文轉載於下. 溫哥華街頭雜誌, Megaphone 為低收入及露宿者舉辦的寫作研習. 這些作品, 將幫助人們瞭解無家可歸, 染有毒癮和精神疾病患者的內心世界. 我們都被魔鬼的頭皮屑蠱惑 很難想像, 我的日子打從前天才開始, 凱麗是我在海士汀街阻街時認識的女孩, 她是個誠實到近乎殘酷, 又忠於做自己的人. 我總是把口袋的錢胡亂花到一文不剩, 那天凱麗和我決定一起去逛街, 好相互支持, 提醒彼此保持清醒. 我們先去了平價一元商品店, 但其實我滿腦子想的都是毒品, 不知道凱麗是不是也和我有著一樣的念頭? 即使是, 她也不會告訴我吧. 逛了幾家廉價商店, 很好, 我們的意志都還堅定. 獨自回房後, 極度的空虛沮喪又襲上心頭, 我看了眼買回來的雜物, 然後回到了街上, 還是回到了街上, 重覆我的失落. 我想著 “最後一次, 就這最後一次, 不會有人知道” “是啊, 我對自己扯起謊了” “這樣騙自己, 有什麼益處?” 終究, 惡魔還是贏了. 沉淪吧, 我在迷幻中高飛, 在哭泣裏睡去. 就算還是得醒, 孑然一身地醒來. 凱麗叼了根煙到我房裏, 我接過來抽了幾口, 怔怔聽她放的音樂, 歌詞太悲傷, 我哭了起來. “可以關去音樂嗎?” 那些字句太過悲傷. “親愛的, 別怕, 有感覺是好的” 凱麗輕輕擦去了我的淚. 我告訴她, 感覺太痛苦, 我不想有知覺, 我只想麻痺自己所有的感覺, 這樣就不會再痛. 和凱麗走了幾個路口, 我依然感到痛楚. 在陪她到銀行的路上, 我想著, 為什麼不再試一次, 戒去毒癮, 也許他們會再次接納我. 我告訴凱麗, 如果她打銀行回來時, 不見我在街口徘徊, 就表示我參與了戒毒計劃. 於是我緩緩地走進了戒毒中心, 滿眼是淚水, 我害怕被拒絕; 如果我被拒絕了呢? 我害怕這種無助的感覺. 什麼時候我才能無所畏懼地活著? 曾聽過有人說: 要生存, 要先學會承受. 也許聽來有些俗氣可笑, 卻再實在不過了. 一個女人要先承受懷孕生產之苦, 才能享受做母親的喜悅. 而生產, 是真痛. 我坐在等候室等著, 看著周圍和我一樣的人, 我不能再像這樣地活著. 骯髒的指縫, 渾身的尿臭, 垃圾堆積的購物推車, 購物車裏的每個雜物, 都曾是一份愛, 一份我們不曾擁有的, 父親的, 母親的, 兄姐的, 叔叔的, 阿姨的, 過剩的, 叫人痛的愛. 我們都承受著痛苦, 啃蝕人的痛苦, 所以我們選擇逃避, 麻痺自己, 不再感覺病, 不再感覺痛, 不再感覺. 我們都在等待, 等待一個可以重新正常生活的機會. 我們都曾經被魔鬼的頭皮屑蠱惑, 從死裏走過. 但今天我選擇了勇敢地面對, 面對沒能好好撫養自己的孩子的事實, 面對這磨人的罪惡感; 面對被視為人渣的痛苦. 想 曾想 一直都想 無愧吶喊 我是 一位母親 也是 一位 棒極了的 好母親 我也許是一個人渣, 但我選擇了回到現實, 面對所有的磨難. 然後, 有一天, 我可以, 我將可以說, 走過了死蔭的幽谷, 我, 活過來了! 作者克莉絲現正參與在瑞尼爾旅店舉辦的社區寫作研習.   My day started the day before yesterday. Figure that one out. My friend Carrie, whom I met as a working girl on the same Hastings Street as me, came to pick me up to go shopping. She is brutally honest and just beautifully proud to be who she is. I have never been able to keep money without spending it all. Carrie and I decided to go shopping together to support each other. We went to the dollar store. The whole time all I could think about was how I needed dope and wondering if she was thinking the same thing. If she was thinking about it, she never told me. We went to Army and Navy then back to Detox, still sober. I went to my room and then that same old feeling crept up on me again. I took one look at all the stuff I had bought and I was out of there, back to the street, same old thing. I thought “I’ll just do one, no one will know.” Ya right, me lie about being high? How will I ever get better lying to staff and myself? Anyway, the evil within won the fight. Off I went to get high. In the end, I was left alone with no money. I passed out sobbing myself to sleep. When I woke up, my friend Carrie came to my room and smoked a joint. Carrie played that song, and I started to cry listening to the words. I asked her to turn it down. She wipes a tear from my face and tells me, “Kristy, it’s okay to feel.” I said it hurts too much to feel, that’s why we use it: hurts to feel. I still hurt as we walk the six blocks to Carrie’s bank. As we are getting close I ask myself, why not ask to go back up and see if they’ll give me a second chance? I tell Carrie that I’m going to try to get in and that if I wasn’t outside when she got back then it meant I got in. As I walk in the doors of Insite, my tears are welling up in my eyes. I am scared to ask. What if they say no? I am scared; it’s like every emotion hitting me at once. When am I ever going to just live, not just suffer? I heard a saying once: in order to survive, you must first suffer. Sounds stupid, but it is true. A woman must first feel the pain of childbirth. And that is pain. I am now upstairs. I look around at everyone, thinking I can’t live like this anymore. Because under the dirty nails and the urine smelling up close and a big shopping cart full of garbage there’s a hurt, loving father mother brother sister aunt uncle. We all suffer the pain. This is why we used: to get unsick or so high you can’t feel a thing. Here we sit waiting to get into Insite to be normal again. We are poisoned by the devil’s dandruff. Today I choose to feel the pain of loss and the gut wrenching guilt of not being there to raise my kid. The pain of being used as a good for nothing junkie. I want or wanted Either way I want To scream I am A mother too and a Damn good one. I may be a junkie, but the difference is I now choose to suffer the guilt and the pain so that one day I will be able to say, “I’m a survivor.” Kristy Devolin is a participant in Megaphone’s community writing program at the Rainier Hotel.  |
|
| ( 在地生活｜北美 ) |
