{"id":22118,"date":"2025-10-23T13:17:13","date_gmt":"2025-10-23T10:17:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mybook.am\/?p=22118"},"modified":"2025-10-23T14:38:23","modified_gmt":"2025-10-23T11:38:23","slug":"pendant-six-ans-elle-sest-mange-les-cheveux-sans-meme-remarquer-sa-disparition","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mybook.am\/?p=22118","title":{"rendered":"Pendant six ans, elle s’est mang\u00e9 les cheveux, sans m\u00eame remarquer sa disparition\u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Elle gisait dans un lit d’h\u00f4pital, p\u00e2le et fragile, telle une ombre. \u00c0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 d’elle, sa m\u00e8re serrait le t\u00e9l\u00e9phone, ne sachant que dire. Les m\u00e9decins murmur\u00e8rent bri\u00e8vement, sans plus attendre : op\u00e9ration urgente. Une boule lui montait \u00e0 l’estomac. Pas seulement de la nourriture, pas une tumeur. Des cheveux. Deux kilos de cheveux humains, entrelac\u00e9s en un enchev\u00eatrement sombre, comme le secret m\u00eame d’une douleur que personne ne voulait avouer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Lorsque le scalpel toucha sa peau, les m\u00e9decins savaient d\u00e9j\u00e0 qu’ils sauvaient plus que son corps. Ils lui arrachaient six ans \u2013 six ans de silence, de peur et de solitude. Six ans pendant lesquels une fille nomm\u00e9e Nini s’arrachait des m\u00e8ches du cuir chevelu et cachait la douleur sous sa langue. Qui aurait cru que l’habitude d’enrouler une m\u00e8che de cheveux autour de son doigt pouvait se transformer en n\u0153ud coulant ?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00ab Tu joues avec tes cheveux, n’est-ce pas ?\u00bb demandait sa m\u00e8re en souriant au d\u00eener. \u00ab Oui, comme \u00e7a \u00bb, r\u00e9pondit Nini en baissant les yeux vers son assiette.
Mais la nourriture refusait de passer. Et au lieu de soupe, un filet amer fondait sur sa langue. Cela la soulagea. L’espace d’une seconde. C’\u00e9tait comme si le monde entier se r\u00e9duisait \u00e0 une seule et simple action : vomir, avaler, oublier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Qu’est-ce qui rend une personne d\u00e9pendante non pas d’une substance, mais de sa propre douleur ?
Pourquoi avalons-nous ce qui nous d\u00e9truit ?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Au d\u00e9but, c’\u00e9tait presque imperceptible. Le poids fondait, ses joues p\u00e2lissaient, ses cheveux se clairsemaient. Ses camarades de classe murmuraient : \u00ab Elle doit \u00eatre au r\u00e9gime.\u00bb Et elle l’\u00e9tait vraiment \u2013 \u200b\u200bau r\u00e9gime de ses propres ombres. Lorsque son cycle s’arr\u00eata, lorsque ses jambes commenc\u00e8rent \u00e0 trembler de faiblesse, elle dit simplement : \u00ab Elle doit \u00eatre fatigu\u00e9e.\u00bb
Mais \u00e0 un moment donn\u00e9, son corps cessa d’ob\u00e9ir.
Elle avait mal au ventre comme si une pierre se d\u00e9veloppait en elle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

La veille de l’op\u00e9ration, le drame s’est produit : les m\u00e9decins ont conclu \u00e0 une tumeur. Un cancer. La m\u00e8re pleurait dans le couloir, le regard perdu dans le vide. Puis la radiographie a r\u00e9v\u00e9l\u00e9 autre chose : ni vivant, ni mort, anormal. Un emm\u00eal\u00e9 de cheveux, fusionn\u00e9 avec l’acide gastrique, comme un caillot de douleur silencieuse. Deux kilos de peur, de honte et de solitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Apr\u00e8s l’op\u00e9ration, Nini est rest\u00e9e silencieuse un long moment. Comme si elle craignait que sa voix ne se transforme \u00e0 nouveau en boucle. Mais un jour, elle a apport\u00e9 aux m\u00e9decins un bouquet \u2013 non pas des fleurs, mais des bonbons, envelopp\u00e9s dans du papier aluminium, comme des r\u00eaves d’enfant. Elle a souri \u2013 pour la premi\u00e8re fois depuis des ann\u00e9es.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00ab Maintenant, je mange normalement \u00bb, a-t-elle dit doucement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Et elle a ajout\u00e9 : \u00ab Et mes cheveux repoussent.\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cette phrase contenait tout : la vie est revenue de l’int\u00e9rieur, de cette masse sombre qui vivait en elle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aurait-elle pu \u00eatre sauv\u00e9e plus t\u00f4t ? Oui.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Si quelqu’un avait demand\u00e9 non pas \u00ab \u00c7a va ? \u00bb, mais \u00ab Qu’est-ce qui te fait mal, mais qu’on ne voit pas ?\u00bb Si seulement les adultes s’en souvenaient : le corps d’un adolescent est la carte de son \u00e2me, et lorsqu’elle commence \u00e0 s’estomper, l’anxi\u00e9t\u00e9 br\u00fble quelque part en lui. Mais le plus souvent, on s’en aper\u00e7oit trop tard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

En lisant cette histoire, j’ai \u00e9t\u00e9 terrifi\u00e9e non pas par le fait, mais par la m\u00e9taphore. Apr\u00e8s tout, ne nous arrive-t-il pas \u00e0 chacun de \u00ab manger \u00bb ses propres peurs, comblant le vide avec elles ? On ravale le silence, on ravale le ressentiment, on ravale la solitude, jusqu’\u00e0 ce qu’une masse invisible se forme en nous, tout aussi lourde, tout aussi \u00e9trang\u00e8re.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Et alors, ce n’est plus de m\u00e9decins qu’il faut, mais du courage de parler.
De dire : \u00ab J’ai mal.\u00bb
D’admettre : \u00ab Je n’y arrive pas.\u00bb
De demander : \u00ab \u00c0 l’aide.\u00bb<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alors que m\u00e8re et fille quittaient l’h\u00f4pital, le soleil filtrait \u00e0 travers les fen\u00eatres \u2013 vif, vif, vivant. Nini cligna des yeux \u00e0 la lumi\u00e8re et sourit.
Le monde sentait \u00e0 nouveau les pommes de la cantine, l’air frais, l’espoir. Et personne ne remarqua comment le vent agitait ses cheveux courts.
Comme s’il voulait dire : \u00ab Maintenant, respire.\u00bb
\u2026Et tout recommen\u00e7a, avec un souffle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026..<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Elle gisait dans un lit d’h\u00f4pital, p\u00e2le et fragile, telle une ombre. \u00c0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 d’elle, sa m\u00e8re serrait le t\u00e9l\u00e9phone, ne sachant que \n [...]<\/a>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":22119,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-22118","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fotto"],"yoast_head":"\nPendant six ans, elle s'est mang\u00e9 les cheveux, sans m\u00eame remarquer sa disparition\u2026 -<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, 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