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theia-gwen
theia-gwen
American “Hatred is so much closer to love than indifference.” Marya Hornbacher
I ate too much for breakfast today And lunch was spent wondering if I should slip away Wondering if I should go back for seconds **** it, why not? My feet jiggled nervously under the table Trying to think of an excuse to leave Trying to figure out how much the barbeque chicken pizza would hurt on the way back up Trying to figure out how much I’d regret it Trying to figure out if my body was okay My self esteem balloons up and down Somedays I look in the mirror and like what I see, Think I look cute and quirky in my glasses and skirt, Think my body is almost okay And then like black crossing over to white, like a light switch flipped on No inbetween All of the sudden I am ugly My body takes up too much space Loving myself, loving this body seem like an impossible feat The little critic in my head is back And he wants to move back in, I’m not cured Recovery is not about loving your body Recovery is accepting it I’m still working on that The calculator in my head wakes up, Regenerates every time I’m around food My hands still hover over the diet soda before forcing myself to pick something that scares me more I still have to bargain in my brain Eat a salad so I can eat ice cream and cookies Skip lunch so I can have a big dinner Strip naked in front of a full mirror, Watch my body standing up, bending over, sitting Grabbing, pinching, prodding, poking Surveying this piece of meat This thing This body That I know I need to be kind to I weighed myself for the first time in almost a year My toe lingered over the cold surface of a scale Like a child about to dip his feet into water I knew standing on that scale could drag me under And I did it anyway Loving myself is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done When self hatred has been tamped into my soul When my eating disorder was the only thing I good at This secret lover, the most attentive one you could have Took my hand and showed me how an empty stomach could feel like love My eating disorder was my best friend, The abusive relationship I kept going back to, The most interesting thing about me, The thing that was killing me Having an eating disorder is easy; Allowing yourself to slip into a disease out of your control Having someone else make all your decisions Your life reduces itself to the numbers on the scale The slipping numbers on the scale assure me that everything is alright But I can’t live like that Having an eating disorder is easy; Recovery is hard
0
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
Slam Poem #2
I ate too much for breakfast today And lunch was spent wondering if I should slip away Wondering if I should go back for seconds **** it, why not? My feet jiggled nervously under the table Trying to think of an excuse to leave Trying to figure out how much the barbeque chicken pizza would hurt on the way back up Trying to figure out how much I’d regret it Trying to figure out if my body was okay My self esteem balloons up and down Somedays I look in the mirror and like what I see, Think I look cute and quirky in my glasses and skirt, Think my body is almost okay And then like black crossing over to white, like a light switch flipped on No inbetween All of the sudden I am ugly My body takes up too much space Loving myself, loving this body seem like an impossible feat The little critic in my head is back And he wants to move back in, I’m not cured Recovery is not about loving your body Recovery is accepting it I’m still working on that The calculator in my head wakes up, Regenerates every time I’m around food My hands still hover over the diet soda before forcing myself to pick something that scares me more I still have to bargain in my brain Eat a salad so I can eat ice cream and cookies Skip lunch so I can have a big dinner Strip naked in front of a full mirror, Watch my body standing up, bending over, sitting Grabbing, pinching, prodding, poking Surveying this piece of meat This thing This body That I know I need to be kind to I weighed myself for the first time in almost a year My toe lingered over the cold surface of a scale Like a child about to dip his feet into water I knew standing on that scale could drag me under And I did it anyway Loving myself is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done When self hatred has been tamped into my soul When my eating disorder was the only thing I good at This secret lover, the most attentive one you could have Took my hand and showed me how an empty stomach could feel like love My eating disorder was my best friend, The abusive relationship I kept going back to, The most interesting thing about me, The thing that was killing me Having an eating disorder is easy; Allowing yourself to slip into a disease out of your control Having someone else make all your decisions Your life reduces itself to the numbers on the scale The slipping numbers on the scale assure me that everything is alright But I can’t live like that Having an eating disorder is easy; Recovery is hard
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59
The day you left me was the day the world flipped upside down It was the day we hit absolute zero, The day there were no wars, no conflict, no death The day you left me Was the day everything I thought was impossible happened You were the nerd, the perfectionist Always memorizing facts of the arcane Leaching Wikipedia articles for all they had Too busy with science to prioritize matters of the heart And I was too busy dissecting muffins, picturing my bones as a perfect xylophone Imagining myself shrinking and shrinking until I was as hallow as I felt You wanted a science experiment so bad, too bad you never realized you were dating one You’ll never know how much I loved you There are archives, poems stashed away of our love Snapshots that force me back to the days when you loved me too When a writer falls in love with you, you can never die You will live on in the words I wrote, spend years in a dusty box tucked in the attic But you will never be gone And I will never forget And you’ll never know how much I miss you Oh, God, I miss you I wish I’d told you I loved you more I wish I’d counted all your freckles I wish I’d made the time spent with you count You told me you still wanted to be friends But how am I supposed to be friends with someone whose lips are still stamped on my brain? How am I supposed to be friends with the person who I thought would be my beginning and end? How am I supposed to get over you? I miss you so much But I also miss the feeling of hunger, I miss sneaking off to the bathroom to rid myself of guilt, I miss the sadness that was so strong I couldn’t tell where I ended and it began I can’t hurt myself anymore My hands are as red with guilt as yours are I chose depression over you Every time I canceled plans, Every time I pushed you away, Every time I hid inside myself I made you a third wheel in your own relationship, Took the hand of depression while you watched on Forced you to see our inside jokes Paraded my infidelity in front of you I have other loves now I am head over heels in love with the human brain I’m not much for flirting But talk to me about the self-fulfilling prophecies and cognitive dissonance and I will fill your mind from dawn till dusk And I am in love with words With flipping through the pages of a book and knowing there’s a story there With the greeting of warm papers from the printer and the click of my keyboard as I fill up empty space with life Would I be alive to enjoy these things if it wasn’t for you? I don’t know But I am not obligated to take your outstretched offer of friendship If I have learned anything in recovery it’s that I need to put myself first I don’t owe you any friendship just so you can feel better for breaking my heart So If I can’t be your girlfriend and I can’t be your friend I guess that makes me nothing at all
0
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
Slam Poem
The day you left me was the day the world flipped upside down It was the day we hit absolute zero, The day there were no wars, no conflict, no death The day you left me Was the day everything I thought was impossible happened You were the nerd, the perfectionist Always memorizing facts of the arcane Leaching Wikipedia articles for all they had Too busy with science to prioritize matters of the heart And I was too busy dissecting muffins, picturing my bones as a perfect xylophone Imagining myself shrinking and shrinking until I was as hallow as I felt You wanted a science experiment so bad, too bad you never realized you were dating one You’ll never know how much I loved you There are archives, poems stashed away of our love Snapshots that force me back to the days when you loved me too When a writer falls in love with you, you can never die You will live on in the words I wrote, spend years in a dusty box tucked in the attic But you will never be gone And I will never forget And you’ll never know how much I miss you Oh, God, I miss you I wish I’d told you I loved you more I wish I’d counted all your freckles I wish I’d made the time spent with you count You told me you still wanted to be friends But how am I supposed to be friends with someone whose lips are still stamped on my brain? How am I supposed to be friends with the person who I thought would be my beginning and end? How am I supposed to get over you? I miss you so much But I also miss the feeling of hunger, I miss sneaking off to the bathroom to rid myself of guilt, I miss the sadness that was so strong I couldn’t tell where I ended and it began I can’t hurt myself anymore My hands are as red with guilt as yours are I chose depression over you Every time I canceled plans, Every time I pushed you away, Every time I hid inside myself I made you a third wheel in your own relationship, Took the hand of depression while you watched on Forced you to see our inside jokes Paraded my infidelity in front of you I have other loves now I am head over heels in love with the human brain I’m not much for flirting But talk to me about the self-fulfilling prophecies and cognitive dissonance and I will fill your mind from dawn till dusk And I am in love with words With flipping through the pages of a book and knowing there’s a story there With the greeting of warm papers from the printer and the click of my keyboard as I fill up empty space with life Would I be alive to enjoy these things if it wasn’t for you? I don’t know But I am not obligated to take your outstretched offer of friendship If I have learned anything in recovery it’s that I need to put myself first I don’t owe you any friendship just so you can feel better for breaking my heart So If I can’t be your girlfriend and I can’t be your friend I guess that makes me nothing at all
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54
Anorexia was the most attentive Girlfriend anyone could ask for And I fell hard for her I fell for for 500 calories a day, The sense of control it gave me Compliments from girls I'd never talked to before Doctors so pleased that I was finally "healthy" That feeling, Of stepping on the scale And realizing that I took up less space Than when I'd stepped on the day before The feeling of water hitting an empty stomach The hunger pangs That secretly thrilled me The thrill of the lies The ones that became ever so easy To slip off my tongue The thrill of a secret love affair with death I fell for an abuser I fell... Literally Bruises lined my body From bumping into walls Because my body was so Malnourished I couldn't Walk down a hallway Fell down a rabbit hole- Fell down into a world I couldn't escape- Thigh gaps, thinspiration, tips and tricks to Hide this wonderland in your head Walking headfirst into Anorexia was like walking Into a haunted house It's fun and exhilarating at first It's a game, it's harmless And then you realize that the doors Are barred and it dawns on you That ringing the doorbell of death Was not the best idea I am a study in skinny does not make you happy The 5 pounds you wanted to lose Turns to 10 Turns to 20 Turns to... I am a study in Every inch of your body being a warzone Of standing in front of a mirror Seeing nothing but a piece of meat Taking up too much space I am a study in calculation I am a study in lying I am a study in not dead, but not alive I am a study in starvation I am a study in falling out of love
0
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
I fell out of love
Anorexia was the most attentive Girlfriend anyone could ask for And I fell hard for her I fell for for 500 calories a day, The sense of control it gave me Compliments from girls I'd never talked to before Doctors so pleased that I was finally "healthy" That feeling, Of stepping on the scale And realizing that I took up less space Than when I'd stepped on the day before The feeling of water hitting an empty stomach The hunger pangs That secretly thrilled me The thrill of the lies The ones that became ever so easy To slip off my tongue The thrill of a secret love affair with death I fell for an abuser I fell... Literally Bruises lined my body From bumping into walls Because my body was so Malnourished I couldn't Walk down a hallway Fell down a rabbit hole- Fell down into a world I couldn't escape- Thigh gaps, thinspiration, tips and tricks to Hide this wonderland in your head Walking headfirst into Anorexia was like walking Into a haunted house It's fun and exhilarating at first It's a game, it's harmless And then you realize that the doors Are barred and it dawns on you That ringing the doorbell of death Was not the best idea I am a study in skinny does not make you happy The 5 pounds you wanted to lose Turns to 10 Turns to 20 Turns to... I am a study in Every inch of your body being a warzone Of standing in front of a mirror Seeing nothing but a piece of meat Taking up too much space I am a study in calculation I am a study in lying I am a study in not dead, but not alive I am a study in starvation I am a study in falling out of love
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53
I swear on my grave That this will be the last time I write a poem about you I swear that this Will be my final release Me letting your memory go Let some other girl spend nights thinking about you I swear to myself That this stream on consciousness Placed on paper will be the last time I waste words on you I swear to you that this Is the end of my feelings That that pang of sadness That twist of the knife will go away I swear to Gods that I don't believe in That I will use this as an opportunity To learn to love myself and not Some boy who will give it all away I swear to everyone that I won't look through the poetry I wrote about you, the words you stole from me The time I wasted, stringing words together about your smile I can swear all I like But here I am, crying at 10:07 Writing yet another poem about you I swear that I'm a liar
0
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
I Swear
People always tell you that it can get better What they neglect to tell you is how much worse it gets Before the better part comes In every eating disorder novel, You can always perfectly pinpoint the moment The protagonists steps over the line of unwell Into well This whole 'recovery' deal sounded good enough at first I get to eat Luna Bars, I have positive quotes all over the place, I meditate and do yoga all day, I somehow reach the a level of Enlightenment Usually reserved for Buddhist monks And I don't have to live with a ******* eating disorder anymore I bought a recovery journal To talk back to my mental illness But so far my depression has taken control of the pen I bought a adult coloring book To help me de-stress But I still only want to color a river on my wrists a crimson color I keep thinking there's a way to be a functional bulimic Or even better, a functional anorectic A way that I can be recovered and enlightened and normal And still dissect each and every meal As if I was dealing with something ***** and impure Is it still recovery if I can't fight the voices in my head? Is if still recovery if I don't even try? Is it still recovery if I still can't look in the mirror, want the outside to mirror the chaos inside, crave sunken cheeks and fallen out hair That I want to preform a vanishing act right before your eyes See my skin cave in, bones protruding I used to think that eating disorders were about beauty But now I realize they're about pain And perfection and punishment And I had to live through it to see that I seem to never be able to do anything right And my eating disorder was supposed to remedy that I was good at self destruction I was good at sitting at dinner, sipping diet coke Feeling oh, so superior and smiling brightly As I said that I'd already eaten And begged my stomach pains not to betray me then But now I've failed at having an eating disorder And at not having an eating disorder And I can't live anymore in this shade of gray Coloring everything and ruling my thoughts I don't want to be in "recovery" I want to be recovered Because no one tells you How you'll cry through every single meal How you'll see yourself grow in the mirror and not know What's real and what's not No one tells you That an eating disorder never goes away That you'll never diet again That trying to lose weight in recovery isn't a good idea The worst thing about an eating disorder Is that there is no such thing as abstinence Recovery is not one decision It is a decision you will have to make Every time you find yourself looking down at a plate And at first, you'll have to pray to the gods For indulging in the sins of being a human But someday, maybe someday Those prayers will go somewhere else
0
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
"Recovery"
People always tell you that it can get better What they neglect to tell you is how much worse it gets Before the better part comes In every eating disorder novel, You can always perfectly pinpoint the moment The protagonists steps over the line of unwell Into well This whole 'recovery' deal sounded good enough at first I get to eat Luna Bars, I have positive quotes all over the place, I meditate and do yoga all day, I somehow reach the a level of Enlightenment Usually reserved for Buddhist monks And I don't have to live with a ******* eating disorder anymore I bought a recovery journal To talk back to my mental illness But so far my depression has taken control of the pen I bought a adult coloring book To help me de-stress But I still only want to color a river on my wrists a crimson color I keep thinking there's a way to be a functional bulimic Or even better, a functional anorectic A way that I can be recovered and enlightened and normal And still dissect each and every meal As if I was dealing with something ***** and impure Is it still recovery if I can't fight the voices in my head? Is if still recovery if I don't even try? Is it still recovery if I still can't look in the mirror, want the outside to mirror the chaos inside, crave sunken cheeks and fallen out hair That I want to preform a vanishing act right before your eyes See my skin cave in, bones protruding I used to think that eating disorders were about beauty But now I realize they're about pain And perfection and punishment And I had to live through it to see that I seem to never be able to do anything right And my eating disorder was supposed to remedy that I was good at self destruction I was good at sitting at dinner, sipping diet coke Feeling oh, so superior and smiling brightly As I said that I'd already eaten And begged my stomach pains not to betray me then But now I've failed at having an eating disorder And at not having an eating disorder And I can't live anymore in this shade of gray Coloring everything and ruling my thoughts I don't want to be in "recovery" I want to be recovered Because no one tells you How you'll cry through every single meal How you'll see yourself grow in the mirror and not know What's real and what's not No one tells you That an eating disorder never goes away That you'll never diet again That trying to lose weight in recovery isn't a good idea The worst thing about an eating disorder Is that there is no such thing as abstinence Recovery is not one decision It is a decision you will have to make Every time you find yourself looking down at a plate And at first, you'll have to pray to the gods For indulging in the sins of being a human But someday, maybe someday Those prayers will go somewhere else
Continue reading...
66
1. I'm sorry I'll never be able to have dinner with your family, that I'll never be able to sit down to a meal that your mother cooked, hold your hand under the table, and feel like an insider. I'll always decline to stay for dinner because I know that the anxiety over eating, over saying the wrong things would get to me and the plate set in front of me would feel like a mountain to be climbed, a spotlight exposing the fact that I am a fraud and I'm sorry for that. 2. I'll never grow out of it. I've grown into it. The lines between It and I have become hazy and some days I don't know who I am. Some days I'm going to be a ***** some days I'm going to withdraw, some days I'm going to need you to hold me and kiss me. Some days I'll let you see the most vulnerable parts of me and other days you're not going to recognize the girl you fell in love with. 3. I'm addicted to my eating disorder. I need the control, the pain, the punishment. The feeling of my bones under my skin keeps me going, the promise of tomorrow. 4. They say it's love when he's the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of before you go to bed. But my weight is always at the forefront, perpetually waiting for morning to come so I can drag myself out of bed, weigh myself and wait for the day that I feel satisfied and I know it shouldn't be this way. 5. I love you more than I hate myself. 6. I will never leave you here by yourself. It doesn't matter what I feel, I will never leave you wondering why. I can hurt myself, but I could never hurt you like that. 7.   I know you're trying to understand what I'm dealing with, but I honestly don't understand it myself. 8. I'm sorry that we'll never be able to order pizza and cuddle while watching Doctor Who, I'm sorry you'll never treat me to a fancy restaurant, I'm sorry I don't know why you love me, I'm sorry I'll skip out on doing things just because I don't want to confront food, I'm sorry I'll never go trick or treating with you, I'm sorry my problems are affecting our relationship. I'm sorry that I've made it personal. I'm sorry that I've put a face to the words 'eating disorder,' I'm sorry that it's a face that you love.
0
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
Things I Want You To Know
1. I'm sorry I'll never be able to have dinner with your family, that I'll never be able to sit down to a meal that your mother cooked, hold your hand under the table, and feel like an insider. I'll always decline to stay for dinner because I know that the anxiety over eating, over saying the wrong things would get to me and the plate set in front of me would feel like a mountain to be climbed, a spotlight exposing the fact that I am a fraud and I'm sorry for that. 2. I'll never grow out of it. I've grown into it. The lines between It and I have become hazy and some days I don't know who I am. Some days I'm going to be a ***** some days I'm going to withdraw, some days I'm going to need you to hold me and kiss me. Some days I'll let you see the most vulnerable parts of me and other days you're not going to recognize the girl you fell in love with. 3. I'm addicted to my eating disorder. I need the control, the pain, the punishment. The feeling of my bones under my skin keeps me going, the promise of tomorrow. 4. They say it's love when he's the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of before you go to bed. But my weight is always at the forefront, perpetually waiting for morning to come so I can drag myself out of bed, weigh myself and wait for the day that I feel satisfied and I know it shouldn't be this way. 5. I love you more than I hate myself. 6. I will never leave you here by yourself. It doesn't matter what I feel, I will never leave you wondering why. I can hurt myself, but I could never hurt you like that. 7.   I know you're trying to understand what I'm dealing with, but I honestly don't understand it myself. 8. I'm sorry that we'll never be able to order pizza and cuddle while watching Doctor Who, I'm sorry you'll never treat me to a fancy restaurant, I'm sorry I don't know why you love me, I'm sorry I'll skip out on doing things just because I don't want to confront food, I'm sorry I'll never go trick or treating with you, I'm sorry my problems are affecting our relationship. I'm sorry that I've made it personal. I'm sorry that I've put a face to the words 'eating disorder,' I'm sorry that it's a face that you love.
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16
It began when I skipped lunch When snacks became meals And food became calories I stopped standing and began to kneel It started with pictures on blogs Collar bones, thigh gap, dead eyes Worshiping goddesses who never eat Whose smoke curls as easy as their lies It was about being weightless Being skinny, being happy To wither and fold into myself "Somebody please look at me!" Now my eyes are heavy I have to hug the wall to get anywhere Colorful bruises bloom on my legs The room's spinning, black spots everywhere I'm like Atlas, holding up my world With shaky hands, bloods spattering everywhere Step by step I keep moving, it's never enough I'm killing myself over what size clothes I wear Two years ago I wanted this Asking Google a list of excuses not to eat Now I think I'm dying, looking up heart arrhythmias Because I can't follow a single beat
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Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
Atlas
I sit in a flimsy plastic chair that squeaks at the slightest movement, Ana stands because it burns more calories and says I should do the same My arms are folded over my chest, slouching and brooding The bracelet Ana bought me sounds like shackles when I move The wedding band on my finger weights more than I do "Why are you here today?" Our therapist asks "She's been cheating on me with that **** Mia!" Ana yells "I already told you it didn't mean anything. We were broken up then." My explanation makes her angrier though and she snaps, "You just can't handle commitment!" I've heard her use this voice multiple times and a list of all the insult circumnavigates my brain *Stupid Ugly Worthless Never good enough Unlovable Pathetic Fat Fat FAT* "You call this uncommitted?" I point to my stomach which growls on cue Our therapist asks how long we've been together I say over 2 years Ana says we've been together my whole life I tell him she's abusive "It doesn't look like she's done that much damage" He notes When the hours up Ana walks to the door I tell her I just need a minute I turn to our therapist who's already packing up "Please help me. I need to get our of this relationship now!" He ***** his head up as if it's the simplest answer in the world, "Then why don't you just eat?"
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Couples Therapy With Ana
Secrets spill from your lips In hiccuped slurry speech That night you learned the most important lessons Teachers never teach You're on the fence But you always tumble in an empty bottle Trapped on all four sides Looking up at the light, legs weak and wobbly And those lines you stood by Those boundaries began to blur All that you believed in Every bridge you charred and burned Did you find the answers Laced within those pills? This self medication will make you numb To what you must rebuild
0
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
Red Plastic Cup
Excuses, excuses- They run through my mind The circumstances aren't right I'll do it next time The time was running low The sand slipping away So I told you I loved you In the last days of May You told me you felt the same Though it didn't show The entire summer you left me Feeling weary and hallow I waited for you To sit down and stay Tomorrow, tomorrow But never today
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
Tomorrow