When you tell someone with an eating disorder that they are fat,
We will not hear you right away.
We are far too busy warding off our own voices
Cupping our ears to block out the screams
Telling us vile things, disgusting things
About how we look, how we are.
When you tell someone with an eating disorder that they are fat,
You make a choice to further advance this gnawing disease
Because days later, what you said begins to sink in.
It tears our flesh apart with knives
Leaving the splinters of bones exposed
Leaving the bloodstains on the carpet
Leaving us empty, messy.
When you tell someone with an eating disorder that they are fat,
Your words are not harmless.
They permeate my pores
Submerge my body in deep pools of sweat
I no longer have control over my thoughts
Your words are triggers
They are a loaded gun pointed at my temple
And as the bullet penetrates the surface of my skin
I give in, solemnly throwing my hands in the air.
When you tell someone recovering from an eating disorder that they are fat,
You allow the illness to take control.
It still ebbs and flows in waves
Pulling us out and tempting our unconscious desires
Then leaving us gasping.
This phrase gives immense power to the tide
And these words allow it to drown us.
When you tell someone recovering from an eating disorder that they are fat,
That is not the adjective we hear
We hear "worthless," "ugly," "horrible," "better off dead"
Because "fat" is still equated with those things in our minds.
The sickness is still a little monster who hides in the crevices of our brains
She is always there and the more your environment and the people in it feed her
The more aggressive she becomes.
When you tell someone who has recovered from an eating disorder that they are fat,
Do not believe the lie that we are okay with it.
I still have triggers that send me spinning out of control
And steadying myself is incredibly painful.
It is an acquired skill
But just because I have it in my toolbox of coping mechanisms
Does not mean it is easily accessible.
When you tell someone who has recovered from an eating disorder that they are fat,
Their body still feels its effects
Like an electric fence
Sending fields of shocks to each and every corner of my being.
Sadly, I have scars all over my body
I have etched that word on my skin
And etched the names of the people who said it
In my bones.
The walls of my body know who you are.
When you tell someone who has recovered from an eating disorder that they are fat,
We beg you to
Please, be careful with your words
They are not harmless
They are not inane.
We have overcome a vice
An addiction
A disease.
Please try to be proud of us
Rather than rip our progress
Right out of our hands.
For my father