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After a moment, still breathing heavily, I felt a clear pinpoint of light ignite within me, and then I found myself writing this amused and ever-calm reply:
過了一會兒，依然喘著大氣的我，感覺有個清晰的光點在我內心燃起，而后我發現自己寫下這句 頑皮而平靜的回答：
Who are you talking to, then?
那么你在跟誰講話？
I haven't doubted its existence again since. So tonight I reach for that voice again. This is the first time I've done this since I came to Italy. What I write in my journal tonight is that I am weak and full of fear. I explain that Depression and Loneliness have shown up, and I'm scared they will never leave. I say that I don't want to take the drugs anymore, but I'm frightened I will have to. I'm terrified that I will never really pull my life together.
從此我不再懷疑它的存在。因此今晚我再次聯系這個聲音。這是我來意大利之后頭一次做這件事。 我在日記里說我感到軟弱，充滿恐懼。我說“抑郁”和“寂寞”跑來了，我害怕它們永遠不會離開。我說不想再吃藥，卻害怕非吃不可。我擔心自己永遠無法振作起來。
In response, somewhere from within me, rises a now-familiar presence, offering me all the certainties I have always wished another person would say to me when I was troubled. This is what I find myself writing to myself on the page:
某種現已十分熟悉的存在降臨在我內心某處，做出回應，給我肯定；在我遇上麻煩時，一直希望另一個人能告訴我一切。我在紙上寫給自己這段話：
I'm here. I love you. I don't care if you need to stay up crying all night long, I will stay with you. If you need the medication again, go ahead and take it—I will love you through that, as well. If you don't need the medication, I will love you, too. There's nothing you can ever do to lose my love. I will protect you until you die, and after your death I will still protect you. I am stronger than Depression and I am braver than Loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust me.
我在這里。我愛你。我不管你是否必須徹夜哭泣，我會跟你待在一起。你若需要再度服藥，就服吧——我還是一樣愛你。你若不需要藥物，我也會愛你。無論你做什么，都不會失去我的愛。我會保護你，至死不渝，在你死后，我仍會保護你。我比抑郁強大，比寂寞勇敢，沒有任何事能讓我筋疲力竭。
Tonight, this strange interior gesture of friendship—the lending of a hand from me to myself when nobody else is around to offer solace—reminds me of something that happened to me once in New York City. I walked into an office building one afternoon in hurry, dashed into the waiting elevator. As I rushed in, I caught an unexpected glimpse of myself in a security mirror's reflection. In that moment my brain did an odd thing—it fired off this split-second message: "Hey! You know her! That's a friend of yours!" And I actually ran forward toward my own reflection with a smile, ready to welcome that girl whose name I had lost but whose face was so familiar. In a flash instant, of course, I realized my mistake and laughed in embarrassment at my almost doglike confusion over how a mirror works. But for some reason that incident comes to mind again tonight during my sadness in Rome, and I find myself writing this comforting reminder at the bottom of the page:
今晚，內心里這個奇特的友善姿態——當身邊沒有人提供安慰時，我向自己伸出援手——使我回想起有回在紐約發生的事。某天下午，我匆匆走進一棟辦公大樓，奔向等著的電梯。我跑進去的當兒，出奇不意地在安全鏡里瞥見自己的倒影。我的腦子在那一刻做了件古怪的事，瞬間發射出以下這則信息：“嗨，你認識她啊！那是你的朋友啊！”而我竟然朝自己的倒影跑上前去，面帶微笑，準備歡迎這個我忘了姓名、臉孔卻很熟悉的女孩。當然，轉瞬間，我意識到自己的錯誤，為自己像狗一樣對鏡子瞧感到困惑，尷尬地笑了起來。但由于某種原因，今晚在羅馬，在我哀傷之時，這件插曲再度涌入我的腦際，于是我在頁底寫下這段勉勵的句子：
Never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a friend.
永遠別忘記很久以前，在一個沒有防備的時刻，你曾把自己看成朋友。
I fall asleep holding my notebook pressed against my chest, open to this most recent assurance. In the morning when I wake up, I can still smell a faint trace of Depression's lingering smoke, but he himself is nowhere to be seen. Somewhere during the night, he got up and left. And his buddy Loneliness beat it, too. Eat, Pray, Love
我接受這最新的鼓勵，拿著筆記本按在胸口睡著了。早晨醒來時，我還依稀聞得到“抑郁”留下的煙霧，但他本人已不見蹤影。他在夜間起身離開了。他的伙伴“寂寞”也滾蛋了。
