Though I'm better and I will not recede to that dark place,
My mind is not without doubt.
Anxiety fills this mind and my eyes lock on the parts of my body I could do without.
I don't often like how I look,
Though I don't hate what I see.
(I may never be a fan, but that's something for another day.)
My little voices like to point out all of my insecurities--

Yes, this mind is filled with doubt.
Family and friends chitter and laugh--
"What do you mean? Stop being a pout!"
They don't see what I see
In the end, that's not a bad thing
But still--this mind is full of doubt.

My stomach isn't flat enough.
My skin isn't smooth enough.
My hair is too dull.
My chin has a bit too much fluff.
I weigh too much, I'm obnoxious,
Nothing I say will ever stop my ugliness.

This mind isn't without doubt.
I will try as hard as I possibly can  
I will overcome this.
I'm strong enough. I am.
But please, for now--understand.
This mind is full of doubt.
I sometimes forget how worthy I am.