December 2010: the revolution breaks out in Tunisia, my father’s homeland. The cries of fury rising from the Tunisian streets strangely echo those that have been surging inside me for weeks. Suffering from bipolar disorder, I enter a manic episode of such intensity that it leaves me nearly amnesiac.

What remains: dozens of hours of footage, hundreds of photographs, and two notebooks filled with writings, collages, and drawings — precious traces of my time in a psychiatric clinic, and of the weeks leading up to it. More than four years later, those months remain out of reach to my memory.

This film is an attempt to reconstruct them.