![]() ![]() pain is fetishized in women, and that causes pain in and of itself - but when women express that pain, they’re told they’re feeding into the fetishization of women’s pain by existing as a woman in pain. women are forced into pain, but it’s no longer in fashion for intellectual, artful women to talk about it, lest you be labelled self-pitying or navel-gazing or worse, earnest. it’s a stereotype, maybe, but that’s not your fault. RFQ: it’s not pathetic to be in pain, and it’s not pathetic to express that pain, either. RFQ: it feels embarrassing to mention - i feel pathetic just talking about this stuff to myself, to you. i appreciate you sitting down with me to do this. RFQ: no one wants to see us have this debate again. This is an interview, not an essay it contains contradiction and imperfection. this interview is a relatively faithful transcript of my interactions with myself, over several nights, between the hours of 1-4 am. and so, like any good writer would, i got myself to agree to go on the record. the nights have been getting too much to handle lately, if i’m being honest - i’ve been in a lot of pain and haven’t been able to make sense of anything. sometimes i have to say something out loud to stop the yelling, like stop or please leave me alone, which makes me feel very crazy. This is how my nights are occupied, usually: arguing with myself, listening to me argue with myself, being unspeakably cruel, begging me to stop, apologizing. it’s more just that i can’t leave myself alone. i think this experience is quite common, if not ubiquitous, but let me clarify that i’m not talking about dissociative identity disorder, hallucination, or schizophrenia. sometimes, particularly at night, the monologue splits into a dialogue between two voices. i’ve always felt like the term “internal monologue” is particularly apt for this reason, more apt than it’s perhaps meant to be - even within my own mind, there’s always a palpable other who listens to my diatribes, observing, judging. In theatre, a monologue and a soliloquy are different but oft-confused: a soliloquy is a speech addressed to and typically heard by no one, while a monologue is always addressed to a viewer. it’s then when i’m forced to be alone with myself it’s then when we have our little chats. my boyfriend is an early riser with a physical labour job who prefers to be in bed before midnight - fuck him!!!!- which means that until around 4 or 5 am nearly every day, i live in my head, grounded only by the spring rain pittering outside my window and the rhythmic soundtrack of his breath. CW: detailed discussions of mental illness and brief mention of suicide. ![]()
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