Dear Body,

I am sorry
for the pain
I've put you through.

The problem never really was you.

The problem was my goal for perfection.

Be perfect or be nothing.

Doesn't make much sense.
Yet this thought made my life very intense.

I hated you deeply all of grade twelve
In dieting and restricting I began to delve

Desperately trying to diminish you.

Sadly it worked, and you became hurt.

Yet even when I was scarily thin
I never loved the skin I was in

Recovery was hard, but I did gain weight.
But relapse was my impending fate.

I loved feeling accomplished watching the number go down
But my mood and personality fatally drowned.

Who did I become?

My low mood drove me to change my ways
To try to brighten all the darker days

I regained weight.

Eating disorders are not all about weight
Or body image.

They're about repairing your relationship with yourself.

I tortured my body to achieve a goal
Hoping it would make me feel more whole.

And now here I am.

Still fighting.
Fighting to ignore the thoughts in my head
That tell me to hurt you again.

But you don't deserve that
You're worth so much more
Being perfect isn't what you were given to me for.

I am worth so much more than a number on a scale.

I must ignore the thoughts in my head
And treat my body with some respect.

Nourish and care for it, it's the only one I've got
Let media and culture's images brutally rot.
Have my drive for perfection no longer be a thought.
Accept myself and explore a lot.

Depression is going outside
and seeing the sun shining brightly
but still only feeling rain.

Depression is standing in a room
with bullets flying in every direction
and being without a shield.

Depression is wearing a muzzle
blocking you from thinking you're
good enough to speak and ask for help.

Depression is smeared makeup mixed with tears
Depression is giving up on makeup and your appearance altogether
Depression is hiding behind a painted on smile that masks how you truly feel
Depression is losing the ability to love yourself, and then losing yourself
Depression is what takes over your heart, life and mind
Depression is being alone at 4 am and the only friend you have is the sharp silver thing hidden away from prying eyes
Depression is the satisfaction as the water becomes slowly tinted with crimson
Depression is the the darkness of your heart and the ruby red life leaking out of your wrist swirling together
Depression is wondering why your life has to be covered with the cloud of blackness
Depression is trying to hold on to that last bit of hope when you know, deep down, that there is none left
Depression is hiding in the bathroom and crying for no reason
Depression is feeling helpless when they take your blades and you resort to any form of pain you can get
Depression is needing that tangible feeling, because this **** isn't gonna just stay in your mind
Depression is feeling like everything is against you
Depression is feeling like nothing
Depression is feeling nothing

i am trying to cut myself out of this body.

Black umbrellas crowd and cover
crying family and broken lovers
they gather to mourn their dearly departed
they gather to finish what merely was started

"He was brave and he knew how to care"
"He listened to me, he was always there"
a gap between life and love and death
has stolen a bit of everyone's breath

Don't cry for him, he's doing well
everyone knows he is not in hell
But still the heartsick mourners cry
"Why God Why was it him and not I?"

God. How am I still not okay?

God. It's been so long.

God. I'm so tired of life right now.

God. What happened to me?

I was such a nice kid.
I was calm all the time.
Mature for my age,
Little but so lively.

I was so helpful.
So loyal.
I always supported my trust.
But I never really spoke my mind.

I was shy.
I was small.
I never stood up for my feelings
I never stood up for myself.

And now I'm older.
I realize I don't need support.
I need myself.
I need confidence.

Speaking your mind is not wrong.
Standing up for your feelings isn't rude.
Standing up for yourself isn't mean.
Saying what you feel doesn't make you imperfect.

No one's perfect. Not even them.
The ones you hate for being so amazing.
Maybe she has anxiety.
Maybe his mom is alcoholic.

No one has a perfect life.
There's not one perfect family in the world.
There is not a person in the world who's perfect.
There's not a person who doesn't have one bit of strife.

But just because you aren't perfect.
Doesn't make you less worth it.
You're amazing.
You're still charming, kind, and strong.

You're just more experienced.
You just understand some more things now.

And maybe, just maybe,
You just aren't as shy anymore.