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Desdibujada

Writer's picture: The Red WitchThe Red Witch

Updated: Aug 23, 2020

Hoy es uno de esos días. El tiempo pasa factura, el jet lag emocional también. Llevo 10 días alquilada a las situaciones y personas que me rodean, bamboleada de un lado para otro, luchando constantemente entre el pasado y el presente, entre el tiempo y la saciedad, entre las balanzas y los abruptos.


Así que me resigno a este rol de la hija, hermana, sobrina, prima extraña, a este rol cómodo y asfixiante dentro del que voy desapareciendo, mi verdadero rostro difuminándose en esas directrices trazadas hace mucho, donde las desviaciones a las que mi vida me ha llevado, las transformaciones forjadas con esfuerzo y lucha se retractan a los orígenes de la niña silenciosa, que no se comparte, que es intercambiable u olvidable.


Me vuelvo a ver sumida en ese rol. Entiendo que ahora mismo no es posible una alternativa, me requiere demasiado cansancio, demasiada lucha, demasiado levantar continuamente las valizadas que pongo para delimitar el espacio que me corresponde y que son derribadas continuamente.


Hoy es uno de esos días en que siento pena de mí misma, de verme reducida de nuevo, callada, desintegrada…Demasiada radiación familiar me deja sin energías, demasiado poco Otilia, Otilia débil, emocionalmente cansada, desdibujada, callada, anulada. Otilia en silencio, Otilia pisorteada, Otilia al margen de otros...


 

ENGLISH


Blurred


Today is one of those days. Time takes its toll, emotional jet lag does too.


I have spent 10 days rented by situations and people around me, wobbling from one place to another, constantly struggling between the past and the present, between time and satiety, between balance and abruptness.


So I resign myself to this role of the weird daughter, sister, niece, cousin...to this comfortable yet suffocating role into which I am disappearing, my true face fading in guidelines drawn up long ago, where the deviations to which my life has led, the transformations forged with effort and struggle, retract to the origins of the silent girl, who doesn't share, the girl who is interchangeable or forgettable.


I see myself plunged into that role once again. I understand that there is not alternative right now: it demands too much fatigue, too much struggle, too much continuously lifting the boundaries that I put to delimit my space and are continually knocked down.


Today is one of those days when I feel sorry for myself, sorry to see myself limited again, silent, disintegrated ... Too much family radiation leaves me without energy, too little Otilia, weak, emotionally tired, blurred, silent, overshadowed Otilia, Otilia in silence, blurred Otilia, always apart from others Otilia...



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