Loneliness is a feeling
That encompasses my very being.

Nobody really cares
It doesn't matter if I'm here or there.

Don't worry your family
"You're in school, you're fine"

But this isn't okay.
I don't want to feel this way day after day.

Connect with a friend, reach out for support
But silence has blocked me, built a secure fort.

I'm tired of being hopelessly alone.

Second year started
And so did her second round of battles.

Her struggles with the voice in her mind amplified
Walking around campus terrified
Alone.

This creeping sense she wasn't okay
Slipped more into her mind each and every day
But I'm supposed to be better, what can I say?
Silence engulfed her.

Reaching out seemed like reaching across a chasm.

That voice is relentless, it never stops.
Anxiety and depression come out on top.
Controlled by her disordered mind.

On the outside, "I'm fine"
Her weight hasn't plummeted so she's fine.
She's fine.

Walking on a fine line.
Between two walls closing in.
Remnants of an eating disorder on one side and anxiety on the other
Threatening to crush her.

Yet no matter how far the chasm may seem,
it's another illusion my brain just perceives
Help is all around.
There is no shame.
Asking for help won't taint your name.

Reach.
No matter how far your arm has to stretch you will find something to grasp.
Helping hands to push the walls apart.
Helping hands so your life doesn't seem so dark.
Helping words to counter that voice.

A second year started wrong,
yet it's never too late to turn things around.
To diminish that voice until it's just a faint sound.

A second chance to grow.

The minute I set foot in that room
A feeling fills me with doom and gloom
The thoughts begin

The very act of being present in class
I'm immediately in competition with everyone.

The prof speaks
I am weak
Look at all of those smarter people around you
Why can't you be like them?

I don't understand these automatic inclinations
That tear me apart
That make me fear and despise school
That make my heart beat fast and want to run out of class
That make me feel like an absolute fool.

These feelings were constant in first year.
Yet I ignored them, endured the pain.
Hoping from perseverance there would be something I could gain.

I discovered that I still did well.
I did excel,
WHAT THE HELL.

I don't understand how someone who is so anxious and lacks so much self esteem can do well.

But why don't I feel any different?

My mind is constantly lying to me
I'm exhausted from the disordered thoughts.

I don't want to be a victim of my mind.
My self confidence must become more defined.

I still remember that day
Visiting home after being away.

Rushing into the bathroom
Staring at the mirror
Not recognizing my appearance
Seeing a girl crippled with fear.

That horror.
I shall never forget
I cannot forget.
Then why do I still listen?

Today I stand in the mirror.
The thoughts circle in my head.
You're ugly, fat and stupid.
I don't think you deserve to be fed.

I wish I understood the neural circuitry
that initiated these thoughts
Wish I knew when my self esteem
Was clearly, fatally, shot

Or did it ever exist? Maybe not.
For as long as I can remember
Pretty?
I am not.

Avoiding mirrors
Holding back tears
Acceptance of the inevitable, ugly truth.

Other people are liked,
I'm a freak.
A geek
Not chic.

I wish I began working on this back then
To not have it stab me again and again

But the past is the past
I can only improve now
I want to rewire my brain,
But the question is how?

Home.
A comforting place to be.
For me?
A place where I can't control what I eat.
Where anxiety grows and encompasses all.
Where my mind tries to determine if I can eat anything at all.
Perfect.
This meal isn't perfect, that meal isn't perfect, can I eat any of it?
This is wrong, so horribly wrong.  Too many carbs, unsaturated fats.
No junk food, no pizza, no desserts, none of that.
But why?
Why does my mind insist all of it's bad.
As though avoiding cake should make me ecstatically glad.
As though proving my control makes me a better person?
Better person?
All it makes me is mad.
Yet these thoughts don't stop.
Even though they're not true.
If I can't succeed at this,
then at least I have food.
But wait!
An accomplishment, that it is not
Because when you get good at it your brain starts to rot
If that isn't the answer, then tell me what is?
See, that's the problem.
There isn't.
Life has no right or wrong, each decision is one decision.
Extremes are not good.
Restriction is not an accomplishment.
Control is not necessary.
Then why do I crave it?
I crave rules, regulations, please tell me what to do.
I want to be perfect.
And as long as I desire this,
the real me,
whoever that is
wherever she is,
to her prison she is doomed.

Wispy thin hair atop her head
Her mind berating her for eating that bread
Eating disorders are not glamorous.

Progress is made
The number creeps up as she's weighed
But she is not cured.

Thin hands, thin feet
Her mind telling her she's too fat to eat
Recovery is not linear.

For recovery she has worked so hard
Yet her mind is focused on her unsightly lard
When will this preoccupation end?

The accomplishment of restriction
Satisfies a distorted internal conviction
Which must be put to rest.


I have to fight to not believe
What I think I perceive
I can't go back down that disastrous path again.

Diagnosed with an illness
Recovery in sight
Diagnosed with an ailment
Be prepared to fight.

I'll be over it
In hopefully just a year
But that's not how mental illness works,
Not at all my dear.

A beast chronic in nature
Ready to attack
The first experience with the beast
Won't be your only setback.

It takes time to heal
To learn to cope and live
Recovery is exhausting
When you give all you can give.

But dear you'll be inspired
By tiny moments each day
When joy and gratitude fill you,
The beast is kept at bay.

Continue to fight for those moments
Your medicine is positive thought
Use the strength and skills you've acquired
The beast is discouraged by battles well fought.