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.