Please do not tell me you understand
Until you have been molested on one occasion
And assaulted on another
By people you trusted dearly.

Please do not tell me you have felt my pain
If you have not lost six people whom you loved
Over the course of a year
Not to mention
Nearly every one was a sudden loss
And you never even got to say goodbye.

Please do not say that you get it
If you have never seen your family and best friends
Grapple with questions that you cannot answer
And you are hurting too
But you are forced into this limbo
Where you cannot grieve aloud.

Please do not say you have been sad like me
Because you have never been depressed.
You have never taken a knife to your dense skin
Or a handful of pills at the worst of it.
I feel better now
But mental illness does not simply dissipate in a few years.

Please don't tell me that you have felt uncomfortable with your body too
You are beautiful and thin
And I understand that is no reason not to have insecurities
But unless you have made yourself throw up
Multiple times a day
And people did not believe you when you finally had the courage to say
"I have an eating disorder"
You can never get it.

Please don't tell me I can just diet if I try hard enough
It isn't that easy.
Bulimia is not merely about weight
But about self-image, control
And a toxic relationship with food.
Not to mention
My parents did everything in their power
To avoid dealing with my problem.
Have you ever felt that way?

Please, don't speak
I'll tell you my story.
Please,
Just listen.