The Pretty Ones.

feelgrafix.com

The pretty ones,

With gorgeous souls,

All these girls,

So beautiful. 

Anorexia has a type. 

She haunts the girls

With intelligence,

With compassionate hearts,

And sensitive souls. 

Anorexia lies in wait,

Then slowly she makes herself known.  

She whispers the words

That are poison to their entire being,

So that they feel like empty shells

Walking through life,

Controlled and handcuffed

To this ugly shadow

That follows their every waking moment. 

The pretty ones 

Have pain in their eyes,

If you look too close

You will see deep sadness there.

They carry these chains

Wherever they go,

Slowly they become 

Accustomed to the heaviness,

That follows behind with 

Each step they take.  

The pretty ones,

They are held captive,

Slaves to this disease. 

They believe the lies,

And so it feels natural 

To follow anorexia's commands. 

Peace is impossible. 

For every moment,

Every breath,

Feels like shame. 

Guilt plagues their every move,

They are resigned to their post in life,

Prisoner to a disease 

So few will understand. 

And so the loneliness sets in. 

She hides away,

She ignores the ringing of her phone. 

Hiding, 

Chest pounding,

When there is a knock at her door. 

She holds so much shame,

That it feels easier to hide away.  

Somedays she might briefly see 

A pretty girl in the mirror,

But anorexia will not allow 

This moment to last. 

Glimpses of the truth,

Last for but a second,

Until she remembers the chains

Tied to her ankles,

Each step heavy and loud,

Her legs feel like tree stumps,

So much heaviness upon her limbs.

She sees them watching her. 

They must think she is disgusting too. 

Why must they stare,

Do they hear the sounds from 

The bathroom stall?

Do they see her splash her face 

To rid her eyes of the tears that appear

From forcing food up her throat?

If I had one wish,

I would take their pain away. 

I would carry the burden 

Of anorexia for all these girls. 

To set them free,

Would make my suffering 

Feel worthwhile. 

I pray for them to see their beauty,

I long for them to know their worth. 

Dear God,

If I can lighten their burden in any way,

Please show me how. 

My suffering can not be in vain. 

So even while the chains 

Are tied to my own limbs,

I will gladly carry more,

If even one burden

Will leave just one soul. 

The chains feel lighter now. 

I am not the girl I was

Two months ago. 

I feel braver,

More free. 

The chains remain,

But they are lighter somehow. 

Perhaps all my wishes 

On dandelions have been heard. 

Perhaps God is lifting my burden

So that I can someday 

Have the capacity to help

The pretty ones to see

Just how beautiful they are

From my eyes. 

For you.

I love you

Yet I unconsciously used you. 

My heart aches with regret. 

Instead of being grateful 

For hours of freedom,

I used the time to be without food. 

Why do we hurt the ones we love the most. 

Why does anorexia seek to destroy me

And my relationships. 

For with anorexia in my soul,

I can not truly love or be loved. 

I become a slave to her

And I hurt you

By hurting myself. 

I finally had freedom

To be with you

Without restrictions

Or nurses watching over. 

I messed up. 

I did not eat. 

I gave in 

To the selfish voice inside my head. 

I can't lose you

As I've lost so much 

Because of her. 

Please forgive my actions

And know that I was operating

Under the control  

Of something that I must defy now. 

You deserve a fully present partner. 

I told you I would get better for you. 

And I failed this weekend. 

My heart aches. 

My spirit cringes. 

Recovery will be the hardest thing I've ever done. 

But losing you would be the hardest thing I ever lost. 

I know what true love means now. 

It's loving me when I am blind 

And can not see what is in front of my face. 

It is trusting in you

When my mind won't stop its chatter. 

True love is letting go

Of what is holding me back

Even when the shackles drag behind 

My feet. 

Someday they will fall off 

But only if I let go

And be strong for you. 

The ocean.

_{www.onegreenplanet.org}

Baggy clothing,

The only thing keeping me sane right now. 

It's hard.

I can hardly bring myself to write. 

I'm scared of the words that form

When my mind is in this place. 

I am pained by so much heaviness. 

No one told me

That all this effort 

Leads to so much discomfort. 

I knew it would be hard,

But this is more than I wanted 

To know or to feel. 

I miss the emptiness.

I truly do. 

I hate to confess my weakness, 

But I am unable to pretend. 

I am close to tears

At any given moment,

That I hear the voice

That follows me throughout each day. 

I feel the tightness

Of bracelets on my wrist. 

I feel the outline of denim

Hugging tightly to my hips.  

Why do I care so much,

I wonder.

Is thinness worth this much to me?

Think of all the people 

Rooting for me,

Praying that I win this fight. 

I feel selfish. 

I feel ashamed. 

Honesty is hard for me today. 

It's easier to sit in silence

Without putting words to a page. 

But it's also more difficult 

To pretend that

I don't exist,

That I don't feel,

Or have my name 

On a hospital wristband

That digs into my skin. 

I'm not giving up. 

Or giving in. 

But I do feel afraid. 

Afraid 

That I am weaker than this voice. 

Yesterday we imagined that our mind

Is the depth of the ocean. 

It is peaceful and quiet there. 

The thoughts that enter the silence,

Are just sharp reminders

Of a life destroying disease. 

The thoughts are not me. 

The thoughts are a lie. 

I'm trying to be the depths of the ocean

And not the ugly words

That enter. 

It's calm and beautiful 

At the bottom of this ocean.

Fish don't feel their weight

Or stare into mirrors. 

They dance in the water,

Unaware of the space that they inhabit.

They just exist 

In happy surrender,

Surrender to the life

That they were given. 

I long to be the depth of the ocean.

I long to just be..

Like the fish 

With no judgment,

No pain,

No fear. 

Just peaceful. 

Just quiet. 

Just calm. 

Confessions.

I read an old journal entry, 

From the second day I slept in a hospital bed. 

I can't deny that some twisted part of me, 

That anorexic, self deprecating part of me,

Longs to be back in that moment. 

Because this moment hurts. 

This moment pains me. 

I feel that the weight of the world

Is in the pit of my stomach.

I long to crawl out of my skin. 

I ask God why I have to feel this way. 

Why do I hate my body in its nourished state. 

I don't understand why recovery has to be this hard. 

I am pleading with God to lighten this burden. 

I feel so much guilt

For calling my mom in these moments of heartache. 

She can't rescue me from this heaviness I feel. 

So why do I call?

Why do I have this need to hear her voice,

When I know she can't make everything okay. 

I gave in to anorexia these past few days. 

I purged. 

I ate. 

I purged again. 

And yet it only caused me more pain. 

The heaviness feels more unbearable now. 

Anorexia lies.

Bulimia lies. 

The heaviness can not be lifted by giving into this disease. 

God, please forgive me for losing my way. 

With all the frustration I felt over locked bathroom doors and suspicious nurses,

I need this control again. 

I'm not able to tell my psychiatrist just yet. 

I'm not ready to purge my soul

Of this guilt just yet. 

I need to turn this around before I can confess. 

A girl from the program passed away. 

She was known by many girls here. 

It makes the dangers of this disease feel so real. 

Anorexia kills. 

Bulimia kills. 

We are playing Russian roulette with our bodies. 

Dear Father,

Please grace me with some release from this prison. 

The burden feels too cruel. 

No one should have to feel so much disgust for their physical being. 

I pray that I can lighten my burdens. 

If I keep writing,

If I confess my weakness,

I can move forward,

Rather than allowing my behaviours to have power over today and tomorrow. 

I may have fallen,

But I will crawl back up this valley. 

I will taste the softness of sunlight again.

I just need to believe. 

I just need to trust. 

Imagine.

_{www.notable-quotes.com}

I observe myself,

From above and not from within. 

I'm gazing at the girl inhabiting my body. 

She wrings her fingers, 

She taps her feet,

And grinds her teeth. 

I can see the anxiety 

Overtaking her body. 

I tell her that it's going to be okay. 

She has gained weight,

But she is still thin.

She is still the same person,

Only with a healthier body,

One that is not in danger of falling apart. 

Anorexia has been inhabiting 

my mind for too long.

I can not trust her perception,

For what I see through anorexia's lens, 

is false. 

Logically my weight is still low. 

But to anorexia, 

Logic means nothing. 

Anorexia thrives on misperceptions and lies. 

She warps all mirrors,

And tricks her victims into believing 

That they are worthless if they aren't 

On a fast decline towards death.

I watch myself from above.

I see my foot tapping more slowly,

My breathing eases into regularity,

As I begin to see the truth. 

Listening to anorexia these past few days

Has only brought me pain. 

I have forgotten that 

I am so much more

than a number on the scale 

or the size of my clothing. 

I was so caught up in grieving her,

That I forgot to live. 

Anorexia thrives in darkness.

She hates the white glow of hope. 

She fears all things that diminish her ability to survive. 

Anorexia is greedy,

She likes to have me all to herself. 

She wants me to wander alone,

Irritated by the chatter of people around me.

She loves it when I avoid eye contact,

She thrives on a mind that plots sneaky ways to self destruct. 

Anorexia loves it when I'm held so captive,

That I begin to obey commands. 

Restrict.

Take diet pills. 

Take laxatives.

Go up and down those ugly hospital stairs twenty times. 

Today, I can distinguish anorexia from reality. 

Today I am defiantly arguing anorexia's insults. 

Today I took the elevator,

And ignored the desire to retreat within myself. 

I did not crawl into my cocoon,

Instead I stepped outside.

I allowed myself to breathe the air,

To nourish my body,

To believe that I am worthy to dance in the rain.

I am so much more than a disease.

I am so much braver than anorexia ever could be. 

Imagine how much better life could be if I left anorexia behind, 

What could happen if I ignored her ugly cries of desperation,

And decided to live.

Imagine how it would be to be free. 

Imagine.

This disease.

_{Clayzmama.com}

It feels like I've been awakened from a dream.

I am in a body that I do not recognize, 

With a brain that feels so much the same.

I quickly circle my wrist with my fingers. 

I feel for my hip bones,

But they are covered in a layer of flesh.

I can hardly stand to be awake right now. 

I want to fall back asleep,

Back into my dreams,

Where I was still thin and my bones 

Jutted out reassuringly. 

Anorexia is ever present. 

I no longer receive grave looks of concern,

No one fears that I will slip away,

But my mind is still spinning

Around and around in dizzying circles. 

This is my fate it seems. 

To be victim of relentless disease,

That so few understand,

That not only destroys your body,

But also your mind. 

It distorts your thoughts 

So that you fear health 

And worship sharp edges. 

None of it makes sense,

But your disease doesn't care. 

They tell you it gets easier 

When your body is at a healthy weight,

Your brain supposedly becomes healthy too.

I'm still waiting,

Still not quite there,

But if it's true,

If this burden becomes lighter...

I can barely imagine

A life without this heaviness. 

My shorts are digging painfully

Into my skin. 

They fit. 

But anorexia says they're too tight,

She tells me it was better when they were hanging off my bones,

She taunts me with every glance in the mirror. 

This voice,

This disease,

Wants me dead. 

This program,

This food,

This weight gain,

Wants anorexia dead. 

I want her to leave my body 

And exit my mind. 

I need patience

And prayers

I need love and support

Because this place I'm in,

Feels like pergatory. 

Somewhere between sick and well. 

With a healing body,

And a mind that is rebelling. 

Dear God,

How much more suffering

Must I endure,

To get to the other side?

Will I ever smile again?

Right now all I feel is pain. 

Forgive me for my ingratitude. 

I am blessed to be here,

In treatment,

But I can not pretend

That I am happy or free. 

The fat overwhelms me. 

Dear Lord,

Give me strength

And even one moment,

One breath of peace,

To remind me that it is possible,

To be free

Inside my mind 

And within this body. 

The irony of anorexia

The world carries on without us. 

We become self centered here,

Cocooned in a place where crying at the dinner table is business as usual.

So when you arrive for a visit,

Your bad mood is upsetting.

I wasn't prepared for this.

Today was supposed to be fun and perfect. 

When so much control is taken from us,

little things,

like fresh air, 

sour gumballs, 

and feeling normal for a few hours,

becomes hugely important in our minds.

We might forget to ask how you are holding up. 

I'm sorry if you think that I don't care. 

I'm sorry I've worried you.

I'm sorry that the stresses of life

are very real to you now,

and you are struggling too. 

Just in different ways. 

Please don't hide your pain from me.

Yes, 4F4 is my world now,

And I'm sorry that I vent to you. 

I want to hear about your pain too.

Human suffering happens on so many levels.

Tell me about your pain.

I want to be here for you,

as you've been for me.

The irony is that we don't

want to be a burden, 

We don't want to be selfish,

So we go deeper,

finding ways to be perfect by being thin.

Being thin was supposed to make you love me more. 

And yet anorexia lied,

You didn't love me more when I was at my thinnest. 

Instead I became more of a burden.

Please forgive me for the messed up nature of anorexia. 

In reality,

we feel very very deeply,

and this is why we often turn to our disorder

to numb the pain and hide from our fears.

So we do come off as selfish and self centered. 

But we don't mean to tell you that your life is less important than ours.

We just got things majorly mixed up,

by trying to fix everything,

with the avoidance of food

and the number on the scale. 

I hope one day I can be okay with myself enough,

not to need anorexia

to keep me safe from rejection,

Because with anorexia,

we are in no danger of rejection, 

for we have already rejected ourselves. 

        *****************************

I breathe in slowly. Food is life. I exhale, take another breath. Food is life. And that's the problem. When you're alive, people can hurt you. It's easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It's easier to lock everybody out.

But it's a lie.

Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls

It's not about the ensure.

I'm struggling.  

It literally hurts to eat sometimes. 

Today I sobbed over ensure. 

It's so irrational and I'm aware of this logically,

but anorexia isn't rational. 

She has rules and ideas,

about what is and is not acceptable. 

I went into full meltdown mode. 

I had to retreat to my room after half a bottle,

Wiped the mascara running down my face,

and tried again. 

The tears fell. Again. 

But I finished the damn bottle. 

And then ran back to my room,

letting the tears sink into my pillow. 

I hate crying in the dining room. 

I'm worried that I'll trigger someone. 

And it's embarrassing.

And the more you try to hold it in,

the more the tears flow.

I can still feel the thick liquid,

lingering in my throat. 

Anorexia is hating it. 

I keep seeing the numbers,

on the side of the bottle.

I so desperately want to purge. 

But I won't. 

And I can't. 

I can not allow my disordered thoughts,

to direct my behaviour right now.

It's getting harder with every day

the number goes up on the scale.

I want to flee my body. 

I don't want to do this anymore.

My brain is tired from trying

so so hard...

to hold it together all day. 

But the tears were a welcome release. 

I can only run from my emotions 

For so  long before they overwhelm me. 

This has been an important reminder,

My thought distortions

are still alive and well.

I've been sick too long,

to expect to be over the small things,

after six weeks of treatment.

Last week I overheard a nurse say, 

She was very sick when she came here. 

It felt strange to hear. 

I felt like she was saying, 

"She's fine now. "

I wanted to say,

I'm doing better,

I've gained some weight,

But I'm still sick. 

Still struggling. 

And it's going to have to be okay for now. 

I'm still fighting this disease. 

But I will not give up this time. 

life with anorexia is harder than this,

lonelier than this. 

Recovery hurts like hell,

But I'm around people who get it.

My lovely roommate Emma 

gave me the kindest hug 

and the nicest "I love you". 

It's so nice to have your feelings 

validated sometimes,

Because to someone

without an eating disorder,

Ensure plus would not result in,

full blown meltdown. 

I realize that there are people 

starving in this big world of ours. 

But this does not make the 

pain of anorexia go away. 

It may sound selfish and indulgent,

But...

Please remember,

This isn't really about food.

It's about so much more.

Our eating disorders 

become our safety nets.

And when all our usual comforts...

Our diet pills,

Our calorie calculators,

Our scales,

Our rituals,

when they are all removed,

we feel naked,

exposed,

alone.  

I will always be grateful for this place. 

Despite how much I hate the ensure,

seeing the kind eyes of the other girls,

really touched me.

These girls understand that

it's not about the ensure.

They understand the 

deep seated pain in my heart.

We are united in this battle. 

Thank you.

Today. 

I am indescribably sad. 

It hurts. 

A visceral state of sadness. 

This is the grief of saying goodbye  

to anorexia,

It feels surreal,

That I'm spending my summer in the hospital. 

I allowed anorexia to take over,

dictating my thoughts

and my actions. 

To the point that I nearly gave her my soul. 

My heart feels broken. 

I have never learned to love myself.

I have spent years and years,

Loathing my body,

Trapped beneath a thick layer of shame.

I sought out love from men,

Men that loved me for a time,

Until I could no longer hide 

the shadow following close behind. 

I organized my life in compartments

of thinness. 

I used to long to go back to before,

To a time when I was thin enough. 

But I forget that there never is a thin enough. 

I proved that this year. 

I also proved that 

there is no happiness there. 

Anorexia can only 

glamourize your perception

for so long,

Until you see and feel

the sharp edges of bones,

and realize that you still feel unworthy. 

Today I admittedly

miss the scary days

towards what could have been my end,

I wanted to go back there. 

To be in that emaciated body again.

To feel the weakness in my bones. 

To imagine my muscles wasting away. 

To wonder how far I could push

My body to the edge. 

It's completely illogical

To long to go back there.

Nothing about anorexia is logical.

She distorts our perception

And warps our memories. 

So I continue to grieve her,

Despite the hardship she has caused,

Because at least it was a hardship

I was accustomed to. 

I miss the emptiness. 

I'm so tired of carrying secrets. 

The shame has nearly killed me. 

I feel so much sadness,

and right now the best I can do is cry

and later ask for an extra yellow pill. 

I feel the prayers 

Deep in my soul,

And know that I am loved

by so many amazing people,

That believe in me.

I will continue my grieving,

Knowing that eventually,

I will get to the other side,

And fly away free from this prison. 

I will never be able to express

the gratitude I feel,

for those who have loved me

and prayed for me,

when I couldn't do so for myself.