Friday, 15 June 2018

The overindulgent anorexic

She ate too many 
Of those creamy
Hershey kisses. 
She said it wouldn’t matter,
That she was going to a place 
Of too much everything,
And not enough joy. 

So here she sits
In a hospital dining room
Picking slowly at her food. 
The constant chatter
Of manic patients 
Surrounds her. 
Adding to the constant torture 
In her own mind. 

She chose all of this. 
She could have just listened,
Make a meal plan 
Just eat. 
Don’t be so stubborn.
And above all, don’t throw up. 

But she faltered. 
She thrilled as numbers fell on scales
Of clothing falling off hips. 
She didn’t mind this part of disorder,
She liked to be fragile. 

And then somehow,
Her appetite grew
To obnoxious proportions. 
She constantly held 
Thoughts of food in her mind,
And stuffed candies 
In her mouth. 
There was this constant hunger. 
Don’t think,
Just eat and purge. 

She almost didn’t notice 
The width of her thighs expanding. 
She is now suffocated,
Trapped beneath layers 
of fat and flesh. 
Gasping for air. 

She knows they are talking,
Asking how she gained so much. 
Now she feels so unworthy,
Like she’s taking space
From someone more skeletal. 
Bones equals discipline. 
Bones get people to the top 
Of waiting lists. 

Emaciation has always been the goal. 
So why did she choose to eat.
She could no longer comfort herself
By running fingertips 
along protruding collarbones. 
Her hip bones disappeared 
Under the weight of overindulgence. 
She is a failure to her goal. 

I have let her down. 
I now carry a heavy burden 
For I never meant to do this to her. 
I know I don’t look like
Anyone deserving of help. 
I have let her down. 
I is she. 
And she is sad.

Monday, 5 February 2018

The In Between

Not as far
Down the rabbit hole I fall.
Just halfway between dark and light.
I can either crawl back up
Towards the light that shines
From the world above,
Or I can sink
Ever deeper now,
Towards that cold dark place
That holds familiarity. 
I’m stuck here in between. . 
I reach out a small purple hand.
It’s cold and frail,
I whisper to God above. 
I wait for signs,
But if I they come
Will I know what they mean?
I feel like I’ve lost 
The ability to understand 
Good from evil. 
Like that apple in the tree. 
It’s glossy red. 
My mouth waters,
But I don’t want to eat alone. 
I guess I’ll pray to make it through 
one more day. 
Until I find
The answers here 
In Between. 

Monday, 11 December 2017

It still hurts.

I can't stand you.
You're fucked up.
I love you...
But I don't like you.
The words sting
Coming from someone
You want to adore you.

Words can punch you in the gut.
Often harder than a physical blow.
I’ve internalized these feelings
A lonely and sad little girl.
I still feel inferior,
Incapable of love,
Terrified of taking up too much space
For fear of being that annoying,
Little girl you never wanted.

You don't think I'm trying.
You don't know my daily struggle
Just to face myself each day.
It's scary when your childhood
Flashes forward to adulthood
And I still feel like that little girl.
Absolutely devastated by your words.

Wednesday, 7 June 2017

That day last year.

To the sick girl
With the hollow eyes,
I see your pain.
I see your grief.
You very nearly disappeared.

The voice of lies,
Had become your own,
You almost lost your soul.
Those stick thin arms,
That dark limp hair.
The graying of your skin,
All somehow
A twisted victory
To a destructive disease.

Today I write
From my own comfy bed.
Today my cheeks are full.
My skin is bright,
My bones wear the padding
Of nourishment,
Of meals I dared to take.

But do not be fooled,
For I still grieve.
I often miss
That cold cocoon
That hid my fears,
And whispered secrets in my ear.

For now,
I feel exposed,
Laid bare.
This fat.
It pains me.
I feel suffocated
By my own flesh.

She tells me
Between each breath I take,
That I have lost.
She takes my hand
And leads me away
From the grave
In which she is meant to lie.

Today I must choose
How to honour
That day last year
When an IV
Dripped life
Into my veins.
Do I grieve?
Or do I listen
To that alluring whisper
That wants me empty
Once again.

Dear God,
I pray for mercy.
I pray for grace.
Please help me lay
This disease to rest.
I can no longer stand
Before this grave.
This place feels unbearable now.

The tears have fallen
As days drew near
To that day
I let them
Lead me down a sterile hall.
Towards a hospital room
Where I would begin
To say goodbye.

Dear God,
Help me to release these chains.
Let me leave roses at her grave.
Let me say one last farewell,
Shed one final tear,
Kneel before the tomb
Where anorexia
Can now be laid to rest.

I choose life.
I choose flesh.
I choose hope.
Bittersweet disease.

Friday, 3 February 2017

I wear purple. 💜


I wear purple

For the girls 

Who stare out hospital windows

As they bring spoons to mouths

And briefly smile

At the girl at the table beside her. 

They eat to stop

The purple creeping up their hands 

When their heart beats slow. 

I wear purple 

For the girl

Who wrote me a note

In that little prayer room

Haunted by sanctity 

And ghosts of souls in pain. 

We are united in this suffering

But also soldiers in our courage. 

They do not know our strength

For it is hidden. 

Our limbs may be shrunken 

At our most afraid

But our hearts are ever beating

So strongly

Our bodies can not contain them. 

I wear purple

For the hand upon my shoulder

When tears begin to fall

And land in bowls of cornflakes. 

I wear purple for girls 

Who close their eyes

And open their hearts

To something different

Than they used to do

To survive a day

In a world

Unaccustomed to their sensitivity. 


Saturday, 26 November 2016

My Addiction

I have an addiction. 
Some are addicted to drugs.
Some to shopping.
Some to gambling.
My addiction is to numbers
That fall downward on a scale,
To bones that protrude,
To ridges,
To hollows beneath collarbones. 

I feel so much discomfort
In a body padded with fat.
I miss the ridge that forms
At my cheekbones.
I long to press my fingers
Into the spaces
Where fat now resides. 
I am a girl addicted to thinness. 

I don't write these words for sympathy,
Or for attention.
I wish to delete them,
To destroy every word
Like the torn pages of journals
I once dared to fill. 

I write these words
To bring understanding,
To help you understand 
Why some of us,
Become addicted. 
Prisoners to anorexia,
Or bulimia,
Or some combination of both.

Our neural pathways have become
Rigid and scarred
With the damage of starvation.
Food has become the enemy.
It brings immense fear.
Our heartbeats dance with sharp irregularity,
And our minds spin with self hatred
With every bite we take,
And with every glance in a passing mirror.  

You are fat.
You are ugly.
You have no self control.
You are shoveling food
Down a throat already raw
From your addiction. 
You're losing the game 
You thought you once played so well. 

So you long to purge.
And may be,
You do. 
Even after months
Of mind numbing boredom
In a hospital bed.

You just can't tolerate
This immense pain. 
The pounding of your chest
Brings you to your knees. 

I can never hide from you.
Even when I am strong,
You will still fear
For now you will always wonder.
Suspicion is now the lense
Through which you see me.

And now the world knows my
Once tightly held secret. 
I hid under smiles 
And eyes that blinked back tears.
I would laugh,
And brush off your concern.
I'm fine.
I'm better.
Don't be so dramatic.

I miss having secrets.
It was easier to play this game
When you didn't know the rules. 
Now I can not hide so easily.

I can try.
I can roll my eyes.
I can smile reassuringly.
But now you know this game I play.
And now I feel the pain
Of disappointing you.
Of causing you to worry.
I'm so sorry that I stumble.
All I can do now,
I guess,
Is try to explain.
I can try to expose the cold,
Ugly shadows of this disease.

If I must suffer with this,
Let it not be in vain.
I will write so that you can understand
How I got here.

How a little girl,
At the age of twelve,
Began to hate her body. 
And counted sticks of carrots
While she calculated calories in her head.
How at thirteen she did 200 jumping jacks
After food touched her lips. 
I need you to understand 
Why her hands turned purple in winter,
And she no longer wanted to go outside. 

Anorexia changed her.
And it still plays tricks in her head.
No one chooses this addiction,
This disease.
It is not fun.
It hurts.
And sometimes it numbs,
But it always ends in pain
And terrifying loneliness.

All I ask is for you to try.
Try to understand
This strange affliction,
This misunderstood addiction. 
Please try not to hate me
When the voice inside my head
Won't let me sit beside you
At the dinner table,
Just know that the prayer I utter before meals
Is much different than yours.

Let me dampen your sweater
With salty tears.
I am so tired of walking this alone.
Please don't punish me
With angry silence.
Please just hold my hand.  
Please just try to understand. 
This inglorious addiction. 

Friday, 18 November 2016

My birthday.

God wanted me to see today. 
35 feels strange. 
This day forces me to reflect 
Upon the life 
I have been granted.
This life I live,
With each day a battle,
To nourish,
To eat,
To feel.  

I remember the dream
As I so often do, 
I remember 
It's heaviness,
So clearly. 
I fell and could not wake up
I passed from this earth
In that moment,
And it felt so real,
Yet so strange,
My heart beat loudly,
In my chest. 
I wasn't ready. 
As much as a part of me 
Wished to disappear. 

God wants me here today. 
I don't know all of his plans 
For my life now. 
I just know that
I have been given
A second chance..
To live. 
The future brings anxiety,
But also a tentative,
Breath of hope,
A small shiver,
of excitement. 

I am still struggling. 
I still long to crawl out of my skin
After meals. 
I still find pleasure in numbers 
Decreasing on scales. 
I still hate the thick liquid of ensure. 
I sometimes miss the 
Security of a hospital bed. 
Where I have little opportunity 
To obey the lies
Of anorexia. 

It is scary somehow,
To write from the heart,
While I am outside of 
Sanitary hospital walls. 
I feel exposed,
Afraid to admit my flaws,
And the truth
Of how many times
I fall each day. 

But I will not give up. 
Each day is a gift. 
And moment by moment,
I remain present 
On this earth. 
Kept here to learn,
To breathe this air,
To interact 
With others,
To join hearts,
And to hold hands. 

God please guide me. 
I stumble. 
And I fall. 
But carry me forward. 
Lift my eyes 
To what I am meant to see. 
Open my heart
To what I am meant to feel. 
I am here for a reason. 
I trust you 
For keeping me here. 

You give me the courage
To type these words 
In a warm bed 
I do not want to leave. 
I am alive today. 
I have fat beneath this skin,
Keeping my heart beating,
And my mind alert 
And aware. 
I am here today 
And I will not give up
Or give in. 
I have things left to do
People left to see,
And moments left to live. 

Monday, 5 September 2016


I'm out of the hospital. 
I'm back in a house,
Where my demons nearly destroyed me. 
I find myself staring in utter sadness
At the photos I took towards
What felt like the end. 

This is hard. 
This is painful. 
I'm devastated by my eyes,
The pallor of my skin,
In those photographs. 

When I was in the hospital
Just last week,
I forgot. 
I was focused on the heaviness
Of a body I now inhabit. 
I wanted so badly to shed layers of fat
And with it,
Layers of shame. 

But now I lie,
Alone in a bed,
I slept in months ago. 
The memories are painful. 
I am so lucky to be alive. 

I feel terrified. 
I truly do. 
I'm in a new body
But my mind can still revisit
The thoughts,
The darkness,
of those frightening 
And torturous days. 

I am reading my first entries
As if i was not the one
Who typed these words 
Into the small keyboard
Of her phone,
Several long months ago. 

Tears fill my eyes. 
Sadness pierces my soul. 
I'm afraid. 
I can never go back there,
If I truly choose life,
I can never go back there. 
I have two options today. 
Or the path I took before,
The one that carried me
On a slow descent to death. 

I'm in shock 
It seems. 
I forgot this place. 
And now I'm home.
I'm lying in a room
Haunted by the memory,
The horrific pain,
Of those last days. 
I look in the mirror
And then look at the photos
And I am so afraid. 

I can't go back there. 
I have two very different paths to choose. 
One is life. 
The other death. 
I forgot for a moment,
During those boring,
Long and dragging 
days in the hospital,
How incredibly 
I was to be saved. 

Dear God,
Give me strength. 
Show me the determination
I need right now,
Please slay the ghost
Of anorexia 
So I can move forward 
Toward a future 
That is bright 
And full of promise. 

Help me to have compassion
For that sick girl
I was,
And for the recovering
One that I am today. 

Thursday, 18 August 2016



The days are long. 
I am now trying to maintain this weight. 
No longer meant to be gaining. 
Instead I must learn 
That this number on the scale...
These jeans that will not fit,
If I dared tried them on,
Is okay. 

It's healthy, 
they say. 
As if the words do anything more
than make me cringe. 
Healthy has never been the goal. 
Whisper thin so that no one 
Could ever say that
I take up too much space. 

The heaviness feels unbearable. 
It truly feels like my heart is sinking 
With the weight of my body. 

Once again,
I find myself wishing,
To see my bones protrude. 
I glamorize the past 
As if I was happy
At that place. 

These days are hard. 
They are long. 
They hurt my heart,
And my soul cries out 
To be heard. 

I need a hug,
A strong embrace. 
A hand held tightly,
In your own. 
Please wrap your arms
Around me
Without boundaries
That must be maintained. 

These sterile white walls,
These fluorescent lights,
The nurses that guard the trays 
Before meals,
They all serve to make me feel alone. 
A patient. 
A number. 
A last name on a chart. 

I've been struggling 
More than I thought I would. 
Being housed in this body 
Still feels so foreign and strange. 

Once again,
I find solace in knowing 
That prayers have been sent up for me,
Prayers to help set me free.
Free of this disease. 

My body is healing,
It is nourished and full.
My mind has yet to catch up,
Please send up more prayers.
This journey is long,
And my heart is aching 
To be healed.