MFA thesis, 38 pages, 12 chapters, 2016
A personal narrative into the world of healing. Trying to make sense of death and wounds, shaking the grounds of belief. Academia meets spirituality meets pharmaceutical complex meets pop in feminist writing.
I am back in the park next to where I used to live. I wander around, waiting for twentyminutes to pass. Suddenly one of those flashbacks. Seven years after.The grey sofa.In that apartment I received the message. The message that would bring lifelong pain.All I can remember from the phone call is that I slumped down into the grey sofa andmy mouth stood wide open like in a cartoon. Listening to the voice on the other end.Numbed. My mind occupied with the thought of myself, the comic figure, the oddityof not being able to close my mouth.
Just a tiny little pulling in the abdomen, a woman in full power, in full beauty. Eightmonths later her life is gone.‘When the sick rule the world mortality will be sexy. When the sick rule theworld, all writing will be short and succinct, no paragraphs will be longer thantwo sentences so we can comprehend them through the brain fog the well bringto us daily.’ (Bellamy, 2015, p. 36)One of her worries was that her family would have to take care of her in old age.‘Before that will happen, I’d rather kill myself’, she said. Brave somehow-a sign ofself-determination or anxiety? Not wanting to be a burden. The mother figure, thecaregiver, has to be strong, to function, to give and not to receive. High-performanceculture, even in the family realm.(2) Into what kind of society have we manoeuvredourselves?(3)We are all sitting with bad postures on a powder keg of cancer, obesity, diabetes, depres-sion, burnout, parasites. Sick from a system we help to build every day with the time wededicate to useless labour, with our silenced voices, corrupted hearts, shrunken brains,(4)limited visions, with our carelessness, hopelessness, inactivity, overactivity. We havecreated a monster. An over-sanitized monster in the disguise of a decaying welfare state,slipping out of our hands, collapsing while we watch.
graphic design: Julie Hviid Cetti