If you look closely

You will see

The cracks and fault lines

That comprise me

From the outside, to the unattuned eye

I look like a normal vase,

For the glue is now dry.

Truth be told

I was smashed

Obliterated

Pieces essential to my core

Strewn haphazardly across the floor.

But thanks to those that saw me,

And a little internal conviction.

My pieces have been collected

My old form resurrected.

Thanks to a little glue

I appear to be almost brand new.

But don't be deceived

For what you perceive

Should not be completely believed.

For the vase is very fragile,

Not to be toyed with.

Not a player's game.

Please don't mishandle me,

And resurface days of misery.

You saw my bracelet
Asked what it said
I felt a bit embarrassed
I think my face turned red.

"My story isn't over yet"
I sheepishly replied
"There's a semicolon too"
A piece inside of me died.

Mental health awareness,
I tried to explain
Yet I be you wondered
If I was truly sane

It might turn you away
I don't know what you'd say
If you knew the real me
What I struggle with each day

It will forever be a factor
When I meet someone new
I'm prepared for the worst,
Most don't know what to do.

Will he understand?
Most probably not.
He'll probably think I'm crazy
I get that a lot

I'll see where this goes
Won't let my hopes rise too high
I may have scared him off,
Always prepared for good bye

Breathtaking views
of undisturbed nature.
This is where my heart lies.

The lapping of the water
The cool gentle breeze
As the dock creaks and sways.
I am content.

Barefoot in the grass
The cool earth beneath my feet
The smell of the air is rustic and sweet
Frogs hop away
Your step they hope to beat
This is where my heart lies.

Breakfast on the deck
Sun shines in your face
Skin warm and bright
Your senses filled with grace.

Pitter pattering in the kitchen
Laughter abounds
Friends and family come together
Peace is found
This is where my heart lies.

As I stare at the bay
Stress and concerns float away
A dip in the water
Or a paddle too
Ventures you into the never ending blue.

As the sun sets
and crickets chirp
The stars appear
Lighting the sky
This is where my heart lies.

Crackles from the fire
Music resonates in the air
Stories that inspire
Friends and family that care.

This place is special
Wondrous and enchanted
Magic all around,
Absorbing nature's sounds.

This is where my heart lies.

I am not adequate
I'm never enough
For my own expectations
Which are incredibly tough

My imperfections and flaws
Are pointed out, for sure
Mental slave drivers don't pause
From their enduring hurt

Yet these expectations are invented by me
Nobody else says I'm not enough
From this mental state, I'd like to be free
I'm tired of this self-battering stuff

I was lost
Didn't know how to be found
And then you came
And turned my life a bit around

Messaging you
Brought joy to my day
Light to my eyes
Sadness melted away

Flirty remarks
Danced in my head
My hopes grew
My heart wasn't dead

A couple of dates
Went very well
I had a feeling
I was "under your spell"

Pause.

The messages stop coming
What did I do?
How could this go wrong
This is just so new?

My mind had planned
Well in advance
That you would probably
Give me a chance

Alas I was wrong
I pushed you away
Nobody to blame
but my own foul play

And now your silence
Stabs my gentle heart
This wonderful future
Brutally torn apart

I wish I understood
Your lack of replies
Forever left
With a multitude of whys

Today I was told.

I don't know who I am.

An absurd remark?

Perhaps.

Or a sad realization.

A slave to the grades.

"Do that for your resumé!"

Try harder, you must be the best.

Perfect, perfect.

From school to work to food consumption,

the slave driver in my head allows no interruption.

And what has this created?  What is this Frankenstein?

A girl involved in so much, yet without her own mind.

What are her passions?  What gives her real joy?

What's hidden behind that achievement ploy?

For now, there's no answer.

She's perfectionism's fine dancer.

Yet with some searching and fun,

The puppet show may finally be done.

I have an infection
I can't tolerate imperfection.

I've lived with it for so long,
But now I'm caught up in its throng

In elementary,
I cried when I got a B

In high school I took control,
And now I'm paying its toll.

Worrying, studying, crying,
As I feel the inside of me dying

Concerned about that extra mark
I ruminate on one percent in the dark

My self worth is tied to each grade,
97.5% and I am dismayed

This feeling's not right
Towards myself I feel spite,

I need to learn to be free
To reduce this anxiety

My thought patterns need to rearrange
With hard work and time I have no choice but to
change

If she's not attaining the highest grades,
Nor feel like her body is adequate,

Then what is she?

Don't ask the voices in her head
As her thoughts are filled with poison and lead
Because they perceive
That if she can't achieve

She's better off never leaving her bed

She stares at her reflection.
Recognizes her distorted perception.

Evil whispers fill her head
Self criticism is the only part that wants to be fed.

She's made huge leaps, fought her way,
And continues fighting for recovery to stay.

I fear failure

A fear so strong it almost stops me in my tracks.

"Don't write that test, you surely won't pass"

Does that make sense? Well let's see.

My high school average was 97.3

I don't slack off, I surely work hard.

Then why is it that self doubt relentlessly bombards?

Negative thought patterns have played in my mind

So long my self confidence is difficult to find.

It has built up walls, making me believe I can't succeed.

But I am armed with my bulldozer, I want to be freed.

The demons are cackling
My self confidence is crackling

Weighing
     down
       my
         heart.

My disobedience they mock,
These imperfections are a shock.

As they shatter me apart.

Trying so hard to excel,
to be dropped in a well

What is any of this for?

To wallow in error,
Reignites the horrible terror.

Really, you should accomplish more.

They whisper negativity,
Prey on my insecurities,
Diminish my abilities,

A never ending cycle of not being good enough.
Not measuring up.

Perpetual exhaustion.
Perpetual dissatisfaction.
Perpetual degradation.

To fight this fight
To win this war
I must stay strong.
Let the positivity roar.

1...2...3...4
I don't want to be underweight anymore.
My intention was never to go this far you see
But overactive self criticism got the best of me.
Determined to gain life back.
But sometimes put off track
by the illusion of control from my perfectionist mind
I sometimes find myself in a bind
My mind at war
What for?
The voice is not a choice
But recovery is
Constantly resisting the urge to restrict
So I will no longer look sick
Life is tough.
Life is rough.
But if a group of small people can change how I see
I can learn to accept just being me.

Perfectionism's fine dancer
I am no more

That is not what I was put on this earth for

I am not here
to ace every test,
to always get 100,
to always be the best.

I am here to experience
Life's ups and downs
To fall flat on my face
To fall ******* the ground

To make mistakes
But still learn
To discover who I really am
For that I truly yearn

Life is not linear
It should not be overthought
Trying to perfect it
Your brain starts to rot

Depression sinks in
Lose yourself in a fog
Lose joy, lose yourself
in a suffocating smog.

Alas I surrender
I shall fight no more
A world with so much to find
So much more to explore.

Dear 17 year-old Laura,

Don't worry so much about being perfect
Don't push yourself to get the highest marks you can get

You certainly don't have to do it all
You deserve a break, even if it's small

You're beautiful
I know you may not think that but it certainly is true
Inside and out
Beautiful, that's you

Ignore the imperfections you see in the mirror
For only you are able to see
The "too big stomach" and "jiggly thighs"
You're gorgeous as can be

I know you're scared to graduate
You became comfortable in high school,
But the world is so much bigger,
Adventure awaits you

Please don't think that you're ugly
Boys will come and go
Focus on liking yourself
Though that's hard, I know

The summer did flash by for you
University hit you hard
Please don't be mad at yourself
For all your "unsightly lard"

You became ill and that's okay
None of this was your choice
It's not your fault you spiraled down
From listening to that voice

The hardest months of your life thus far
You sadly had to endure
Because you couldn't forgive yourself
Mental illness is a blur

Shame and stigma rotted your mind
Made you think this was your volition
Like someone gets cancer, you became sick
Becoming mentally ill wasn't a mission

Your life will slowly rebuild
The future will have ups and downs,
You should be incredibly proud of what you survived
Continue to fight those sounds

Perfect.
Is unattainable.
Or so I am told.
Then why was 100
Written in bold?
On my high school report card.

Courses I tried to perfect
Taking on every extra opportunity
to raise that mark higher
accepting nothing less than one followed by two zeroes

And this, I was able to achieve
In many courses, which you may not believe
Praise, cheers, congratulations
Nobody could see the underlying complications
Not even me.

Because getting one hundred
Or slightly more
Is all that prevented my mind
From beginning to roar

Because I don't make stupid mistakes
Those I'm not allowed
Losing marks is forbidden
Or my mind becomes loud

Imperfection is intolerable.
At the sight of a mark off
My mind tumbles and swirls
How could you do that?
How do you expect to survive in this world?
Unacceptable.

In high school I attempted to fix it,
Many times being successful
But that is not how university works.
And what if those tainted expectations
Find a new muse?

Self destruction.

For the anger over percentages
Turned into anger at my body.
How I looked
It never really mattered.
I knew I wasn't particularly pretty.
For the first time in Gr. 12
I stared at my mirror
After make up and hair products
Thought
Wow, if I try I can be pretty.

If I try I can make this failure go away
One more pound and I'll be okay
No fat, no wrinkles
Nothing to remind me of the
Never-ending sensation of not being good enough.

Little did I know
That means not existing.

Through hell and back
Make it to university
Now I'm on track
But wait
Perfectionism lays awake
Right behind my back
And it's ruining me.

Verbalizing my struggles
I've been told
"You don't need to get perfect"
But that voice in my head is old

It can't go away with one person's advice
Or yoga session
Or exercise
Or learning it spits out plenty of lies.

Never
Feeling
Good Enough.

Attending university is painful
But apparently it's the only cure
Avoidance isn't the answer.

But what does that mean?
Hm let me see.
One mark off here?
Work harder.  
Devote more time to studying.  
You must do better.
Mistakes are unacceptable.
You are so stupid.
Unacceptable.
Worthless.

A never ending CD playing in my mind.

I hope that my experiences
Can help someone else
That others won't feel so alone
That I can learn to accept myself.
And find a kinder voice
That is my own.

In a flash,
the thoughts come back -
"you're fat".

Why?

This illogical phrase used to put me in a haze, made me a slave, to its demands I'd cave.

Broken.

My stomach feels bigger, so do my legs, does my face look fatter? Maybe it's what you ate. You need to fix it, or I will berate.

Watch it.

Weight gain not acceptable, definitely not allowed, do you really want to look like a cow? Punish yourself, less in, more out, look at you, you're just becoming more stout.

Silence.

These feelings are feelings, these thoughts aren't true. All they want is for madness to ensue.

Triggered by perceptions, automatic and vile, deeply convincing, at least for a while.

Now, deep down, I know the truth. I'm healthy and active, no more to do. Fluctuations are normal, restriction is a trap. These thoughts and worries are a big load of crap.

I'll move my attention, to more important things. The blueness of the sky, the joys of spring.

Growth.

Feel my hair in the breeze, hiking in the trees, laughing with friends, around food more at ease.

Triumph.

These hands tell a story
A story of the unknown
Of a girl who tried to **** herself
Bury herself under a stone.

On the outside they appear thin,
Veiny and scarred.
A relic of the old days.
When times were very hard.

When restriction was the answer.
Ruled her thoughts and mind.
Shriveling away was the solution.
A disappearance of a kind.

Others just see thin hands
But for her memories burn from the past
The view of these emaciated hands
Remind her of how she almost couldn't last

Recovery on her fingertips
A war fought in her mind.
These hands are a painful reminder
Of the past she's trying to leave behind

A documentary watched
Displaying the lives of the broken
The tortured

We are able to understand physical abuse
But mental abuse,
Is pushed to the side

And so the mentally ill ride this never-ending tide
Of stigma, misunderstanding, misinterpretation

You broke your leg? Get a cast at the doctor's.
You have a sore throat?  A quick strep test will work.
A voice in my head tells me I'm not good enough and shouldn't eat....

Asking an average person gives you the average answer,
What? How can you not eat? That makes no sense.
And thus you're pushed behind a fence.
Dealing with your thoughts and flaws internally
As you fade for what seems like the rest of eternity

For most, it's impossible to comprehend
How one could hate themselves so much
That they'd rather be thin, or smart, or pretty,
or else have their life end.

Depression, schizophrenia, anorexia nervosa
Bipolar disorder, bulimia, obsessive compulsive disorder.
Diseases of the mind
Cures which dedicated people are trying to find.

Yet until then they live with these conditions
And people's misconceptions

But if just one person lends a listening ear
A non-judgmental interaction,
They can provide help to many far and near.

Imagine a voice.

The voice of negativity.

Sitting prettily in the back of your head.

Judging your every move.

Your every inclination.

You got one wrong on a test?
You ******* up.
How could you be so dumb?
Try harder next time.

You had a treat?
Who says you deserve that?
Certainly not I.
You lazy, fat, sloth.

Is that your reflection in the mirror?
Now isn't that terrifying?
That acne, that hair.
Yikes.

I run amok in your mind.

I control your every last move.

Just try to escape my wrath.

You blubbering, bumbling fool.

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.

Ed is beckoning me.

You could be lighter, thinner, better.
Feel those powerful bones.
Feel the control, the achievement.
This body is yours to hone.

No fat jiggling on your body
Firm skin and muscle is all
Feeling wispy, light and airy
Wonderful and small.

I just want to be thinner.

---

Girls across the world wishing for this
As they scroll through unlimited feeds
Young and impressionable
Fairly easy to do
Just don't eat.

But it can become an obsession,
Always wanting more
Always an imperfection to fix
Just another pound more

Diet, diet, diet.
Eat this, not that.
No carbs, no sugar, no processed food.
Keto helps get rid of fat.
The messages are relentless
They're everywhere we look.
We are so obsessed with our bodies
Diet culture has us hooked.

I worry about the younger generation
More exposure to images of thin
Sharing tips for what to eat in a day
Eating bread considered a sin.

That path leads to destruction.
A trap that holds you tight.
Where your world revolves around food and exercise
Though you feel depressed and lose sight.
Something you can't snap out of
Will almost take your life
As anxiety and depression consume you
But you just can't take one more bite.

We need to start glorifying balance
More images of normal people.
Rewire the way we think about food and exercise
Something more in the middle.

I'll continue to not listen to my thoughts
Though some days they scream very loud.
I don't need to be smaller.
I need to raise my voice and be proud

I don't know who I am.

This may sound strange,
but it's how I feel
many 20 somethings
know this feeling is real

"This is normal"
"You're not alone"
But this lack of identity
Makes me feel thrown

For years I was the "smart one"
Strove for the highest grades
Lost that identity for a bit
Momentarily lived in the shade

I reclaimed that feeling in first year
Academically, feeling strong
But wanting to excel was challenging
Anxiety and depression tagged along

I excelled for four years to leave options
Working myself to the bone
Hoping my hard work would mean something
My path forward would be shown

But now I'm left with burn out.

It leaves me at a crossroads
Not sure which path to take
Not confident in myself
Or the changes I hope to make

Building a live worth living
Is more challenging than you make think
When you're used to craving excellence
Anything less feels like an empty link

I have to find a way forward
To make sense of all that is
Accept that life isn't always fun
But know that doesn't mean my life is done.

I want to be an optimist
In a world that's sad and cruel
Find where I truly belong
Hope will be my tool.

She helped me when I was entangled in the thorns of the dreaded disease,

But it has come back to take away her peace.

I stare at each picture, bathing suit clad,
And see nothing but the evil monster, grinning and mad.

Because when I look at those photos I see nothing but the disorder

The internal torment, anguish, self-battering thoughts
That cause your self confidence and self worth to rot

That ***** and **** at each slight imperfection
That promise to point you in the proper direction

That monster, so sly, so cunning, so persuasive
But also terribly, horribly invasive

For if you let your guard down after the first fight
It will come back to prove its might

This monster can’t be killed from a therapy session
This form of attack only diminishes its aggression

But the monster lays waiting in the dark
And takes advantage of any self deprecating spark
Until it can attack like a mighty white shark.

This monster tries to take the lives of many.

Including my own.

But I will not let it destroy the friends close to my heart
The monster’s reappearance signals me to do my part

To slay the beast, relentlessly work till it’s dead
Otherwise all it takes is a self critical thought to be fed

A comparison, picture, reminder of its deceiving phrases
Fighting this monster is the only way to cure the hazes

If I told you

My past

Would you run and hide?

People tell me to wait

But, now I think it's your time to decide

Will you understand my struggles?

Probably not, I fear,

Those piercing thoughts that ******* me

When I'm standing before a mirror

I also fear

My fragility

The delicateness of my mental state

For if this goes much further

And I reveal my true state,

It's better for you to run now

Than wade too deep, then escape.

She thought she had it all figured out.
Biology and psychology, with no doubts.

But alas
Her greatest fear
Became a reality
In third year

Trying to change
the meds she was on
Sent her in a spiral
Her personality was gone.

Crumbling into tears
Each and every day
Not understanding
How things could turn out this way

The world seemed dull
Full of despair
She couldn't concentrate
Every breath a gasp for air

She questioned the point
of university at all
Questioned her program
Her world became small

Thankfully her parents
Lent a caring hand
They were the only ones
Who could sort of understand

Things are improving
Slowly I'm afraid
Still questioning her program
And the decisions she has made.

Veering off the pursuit of perfection
One goal still in mind
To make it through undergrad
Further aspirations left behind.

Before the illness descended on my brain
I never felt particularly insane

Eating disorders are not all about wanting to be thin
The pain is much deeper and emerges from within

Your self concept is shattered.

I don't think others understand
What it takes to recover, to escape quicksand.

Eating disorder thoughts are rotten and cruel
They convince you that you are a complete fool

They spit negativity into your head
You believe your thoughts, tears are shed.

Your appearance in the mirror you continue to hate
Vile thoughts continue to berate

Try living with that constant dread
Like walking around with a boulder on your head

At some points wishing you'd be better off

...

Recovery.

Congrats! You've gained weight!
Your physical health has returned, look at that heart rate.

But I gained more than I wanted to gain.
My mind is spinning, the thoughts are insane.

My mind is battling a war each day.
As I try to go to school, be a human, be okay.

The strength and will to do that is intense.
To live with your mind continually on a fence.

To have restriction sit in the back of your mind.
As you try to keep up with school and not get behind.

It is not a choice.
The voice.
Is not a choice.

But recovery is.

To try to live how I want to live.

If you come across someone battling this fight
Commend them on their courage and might.

Be their support.
Even though you may not understand.
Lend a listening ear or a helping hand.

Be the difference in their day.
Help stop their thought spiral, remind them they're okay

Anything you say
Makes a difference.
Acceptance
Love
Care
Makes a difference

Love and care will fuel their fight
To know their thoughts are not right.

Being goal oriented
Is a good trait
But what if that goal
Is to control my weight?

In high school I strove
For each course to have a perfect grade
But in university that's tough
The perfectionism monster emerged from the shade.

The reflection in the mirror
Was its next victim to attack
You really don't look good enough
But losing weight is a hack.

Your grades might not be good enough
But at least you're not fat
Perfect your food intake
You can always excel at that.

I can do what others can't
Resist the temptation of food
Yet this mindset only gets me so far
Into the abyss goes my mood.

At first I feel powerful
Mighty and strong
"I'm better than others"
But this doesn't last long.

Because perfectionism takes over
The bully gets loud
One break of the rules
And I'm no longer proud.

I'm controlled.
Living inside my head.
Trying to enjoy life.
When I beat myself up for eating bread.

That's not life.
That's being a prisoner of your mind
A mindset that put me
One year behind.

Yet it's tempting to return to.
When you feel empty inside
When you're so upset with yourself
Not eating gives you pride.

Disappear.
Don't take up too much space
You're too needy, not worthy,
You can't even look at your face.

...

Yet deep down inside I know I'm not alone
I have friends and family that care
Who will help me defeat the bully
Pull me out of despair

I'm learning
Getting better at managing the voices in my head
So I can live life
Eat that piece of bread

It's a tug of war
But I'm learning it's okay
To not be perfect
To know I am worthy either way

Learning to control the expectations
To not have to turn to body control
To be at piece with my mind
And nourish my soul.

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.

Today I've decided just to be me
Today I've decided to not care what others see

I don't want to be on the pursuit
Of pretty or thin,
I'd rather be on the pursuit,
Of the girl that lies within.

This may not be easy
In fact, it's very tough
Thanks to media and advertisements,
but now I've had enough.

Lose weight, get longer lashes,
Make your body flawless and pretty.
But we fail to idealize individuality,
Instead label imperfections, what a pity.

So now I'll take a stand,
against the companies that push their brand.

I don't need their things to be happy,
for they promote false goals.

I need to learn to accept being me
Without caring what my internal critics,
or others
see.

Illness

May begin with the letter I,

Yet many illnesses

Are unseen to the attentive eye

The demons are on replay today

Circling through my mind.

I’m trying to tell them they’re not telling the truth

Yet somehow, it’s hard to find

The words to say back to them

As they batter me inside

One glimpse at a mirror is all they need

To crush my soul and pride.

You’re fat, you’re ugly, you’re worthless

As though my appearance is the epitome

Of my future destiny

As though it matters how I look.

I try to be strong, to fight their throng,

of never ending bashes,

yet sometimes I am prone to crashes,

where tears fall from my lashes

and I feel as though I’ve been reduced to ashes.

But I must fight, I must continue on.

For an ending isn’t the solution.

No matter how much I want to curl up in a ball

And hide from all

I can’t be small, I must stand tall.

You’re not a burden, you’re a human,

With so much more to you than looks and appearance.

So fight the urge to restrict
This is the real Laura’s edict.

Imagine opening your eyes in the morning
Yawning at the start of a new day

Birds chirp and the sun shines into your bedroom
As you begin to gain consciousness, you may think
"I'm excited to go to school today" or
"Work will be interesting"

But in my mind the bully steps onto the stage
Get moving, start doing, it endlessly berates
Sleeping in isn't an option today

What I should do is based on my thought out inadequacies
Too fat, too lazy, the gym is where you'll go
But I'm trying to exercise for wellness
Where's the distinction? I don't know.

You didn't accomplish much yesterday
Not enough was done
You should have been studying more
In my mind these thoughts run

You are not good enough
Endlessly on repeat
Overthinking everything
Sensitive to everything I eat.

Intense, strong emotions
cloud my mind
The bully in my head
Is never very kind.

"Just don't listen to it"
"You know that's not true"
But it's so natural and automatic
For years it's told me what to do

This same drive propelled me
To excel in school
To be athletic and involved
It was a useful tool

Before Gr. 12 it wasn't so harsh all the time
When it became more malicious
I am not so sure
I endlessly compare myself to everyone I encounter

So balance is what I'm trying to find
Its inclinations I'm trying to endure

---------------------------------------------------------­---------------

Each day a war
Each day a battle
Some are better than others
I'm striving for equilibrium
And to make peace with the bully

Demonizing the bully is not effective
Nor is dismissing its thoughts
Because bullies have their own muddled pasts
I believe my bully is a little girl that is fraught

She's trying to keep me in line
Aware of the passing of time
Anxious about what's to come
Believes in control, well at least some

I have always worried about the future
Unsure of what lies there
Control is an attempt to ensure success
In a world that is uncertain and unfair

I busy myself in an attempt to distract
But I get so busy I throw myself off track
Forget to focus on what I have learned
To recognize I needn't be so concerned

It seems as I cycle through periods of stress
When my mood and my mind are more of a mess
When my coping methods may not be the best
But rest assured I'm trying, I'm trying on this quest

The surface you see may not really be me
I try to put on a brave face
Decisions, the future, which were terrifying to me
I'm now living through, to discover who I'll be

Before I go to bed
With the bully still in my head
What quiets her is utter exhaustion
But what sustains me is an ember of hope
That what I've endured can help others
All I want to do is help others
And make a difference in someone else's life
To assist them in alleviating parts of their strife

I look in the mirror,
and what do I see?
An overweight girl
Staring back at me.

A girl who has truly let herself go
Who's allowed her body to grow and grow.

But wait, hold on,
my mind is sick,
It persistently insists
that my thighs are too thick.

That picks out things it knows it can fix.

At a cost.

I can't listen to that voice
No matter how much it yells.
I need to make peace with myself,
get out of its spells.

I will achieve balance
I'll fight for recovery to stay
I'm not turning back
From that position, I won't sway.

Scrolling through old pictures,
I come across the photos
That show a timeline of my descent into madness

As mental illness ravaged every single part of me
Stole my personality
My laugh
My smile
The very essence of my being.

Most will say
"It was just a phase"
But that torment
That mental and physical pain
Wanting to disappear
The horror of looking into the mirror and not recognizing yourself
Not knowing what was going on
And not being sure you could stop it.

When your worst enemy lies within you,
How can you attack it, without hurting yourself?
Perhaps that is why mental illness is so tough to overcome.
You can't just snap out of it.

I shed tears for how sick I was
How inconsolable
How dark days turned into darker nights
Where nothing mattered
Nothing had purpose
I was less valuable than the air I breathed.

But I'm grateful for those that stuck by me
That believed in me
That picked me up when I fell down
For I didn't disappear into the abyss

I was propped back up on my own two feet
Prepared for battle
Prepared to change
Prepared to do whatever it took to survive.

Fought through university
Fought to make new friends
To NOT be defined by my invisible illness

I soldiered on.
Now I'm up against the hardest part of the battle.
Accepting myself for who I am.

And I will continue to fight.
For surrendering is abandoning the very essence of my being
My soul will not bear a white flag.

I know I've gained weight
Not too too much.
Enough for me to notice
To pick apart and ****
Cry tears of failure,
I'm a body positive fraud.

I finally liked my body
Didn't hate all that I see
But now that that is gone,
I can only blame me.

Is this me or the "illness"?
That I don't know
I really want to fix this
Don't want to grow and grow
But therapy's taught me different
Can't listen to that voice
The one that screams and yells,
"THIS WAS ALL YOUR CHOICE
You're fat, lazy, inadequate,
what the hell have you done,
you'll grow and grow forever,
weight gain never done."

Part of me wants to listen
Part of me wants to fight
Part of me wants to give up
I'm tired of this smite.

My obsession with idealized perfection
is an infection
that's leading me in the wrong direction.

Perfect is non-existent.
But our culture still wants us to strive
Make money off our insecurities
Profits they want to drive

I'm going to practice acceptance
Less attention to this societal mess
I've more to do than look perfect.
Going to just do my best
to be a person of value
kind, caring and strong.
That is what's been best for me
Truly all along

The old me is buried deep inside.
The bubbly, hyper, carefree parts of me have faded and disappeared.
Replaced by a demon whispering in my ear.

No longer can I look at food without calculating if it's safe to eat
My mind may tell me to not have it, but I have to accept it's okay to have a treat.
I no longer crave candy, chocolate or chips
The taste of anything too sweet is like poison on my lips.

"Don't think about it"
Excellent advice
If I could turn that voice off
That would be quite nice.

You cannot choose how your mind thinks
How it initially reacts
How in the mirror all I can see
Is layers of never ending fat

How others see the good in me
But I can only perceive my flaws
No matter how well I've done
It just doesn't seem good enough

Each activity I partake in is well overthought
Should I go out tonight? I have to study.
Productivity ties me in a knot.

There's always something I could be doing
Guilt consumes me if I'm not doing it.
But where to draw the line you see
When others have a similar, but not disordered, mindset.

Balance?
What is balance?
Others do it so naturally.
I have to schedule "fun time" and "time for me"

But the monsters of guilt taunt me
Along with Mr. Anxiety
Perfectionism erodes me
Being alive is tough you see.

I fight.
You do not see my battles.
Yet I fight every single day.
Some are better than others,
Some days the voices aren't quite as loud.

I'm never fine
Or truly okay
But I'm learning to accept that.

I can't let these things define my day.
I think I'm learning how to handle them.
So I'm sorry if my perfect exterior has been crumbled.
Or if you feel sorry for me.

But the last thing I want to be is a burden.




The more I learn
The more I can thrive.
So I can feel like I'm truly alive.
For I can't be fixed by a magic pill
Or immediately stop the voices out of pure will.

But I am strong.
I am persevering.
I hope through my struggle
I can help others
Gain vitality

My mind is filled with noise.

Sometimes the sounds of music,
Symphonies and orchestras.

But other times the sounds of failure.
Lack of accomplishment.

There are times when my mind is so intent
That I ensure my eating habits are not bent.

That I don't overeat, overindulge or have a treat.
Eat ice cream, and you will surely feel the heat.

The wrath of negative thoughts as they endlessly grow,
My mood dips into a bottomless low.

It's been a long battle, "I should be over it by now"
But sometimes those thoughts insist I'm a cow

I'll continue to fight to change my mind
And change its noise to a more melodic kind.

I have to stop hating myself
To stop trying to be the best
To put this internal war to rest.

I make big, unfortunate mistakes,
But that doesn't mean I can put on the brakes.

Because I can't be perfect.
I can't ruminate on every grade
And allow myself to slowly degrade.

My body is not a statue to perfect and mold.
I must fight Ed, stand up and be bold.

These intense feelings of pain
Cause me to wane.

I have to keep up the fight,
And use positivity and determined might.

This illness is a monger
Its pain I can take no longer

It almost took my life away
But from now on I'm here to stay

For I will fight its terrible wrath
And continue paving my own path

Because I am stronger than its grip
Its disguised poison I'll no longer sip.

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.

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.

I wish I could say
That I don't struggle every day

But most days I do.

For the negativity in my mind
Usually puts me in a bind

For a moment or two.

I constantly fight
To be cheerful and bright

Because deep down that's me.

I'll continue the crusade
Till these thoughts start to fade

And shape who I'll be.

The cold handles of the kitchen cabinets dig into her thinly covered back.  Sobs emerge from her unnaturally cold, tired body.  
Yawns interrupt her cries for understanding, as she is unable to deal with the extreme exhaustion.  
Why her?  
Why has she allowed the drive for perfection to infiltrate her vessel?  Why did she give into society’s insecure perception of beauty, instead of building her own self confidence and decisions about appearance herself?
Her inability to cope with a growing, changing body.  
That’s what drove her to insanity and perfection in food intake.

Now she sits on the kitchen floor, pondering her downfall.  
The veins clearly visible in her hands.  
Her hands creepily thin.  
She can feel it all over her body, the thin layer of protection she has.  She’s horribly ashamed of the way she looks.  
She knows she’s too thin, but struggles to conquer her disordered thinking patterns and perfectionistic thoughts she has carried for so long about food.  
All the hate she harboured for her “fat” body, has transferred to her thin body.  
She’s ashamed beyond belief of the way she looks.  
She doesn’t want to be seen in a bathing suit.  
She still refuses to look into a mirror.  
She let something as simple and insignificant as food take over her life and shrivel her very being.  

She doesn’t even know who she is.

Anxiety
A cloud of fear, bewilderment, and terror
Clouds my mind.

Yet even clouds bring much needed rain.
And anxiety leaves me with nothing but pain.

Rain nourishes the ground upon which it falls,
Anxiety suffocates my brain and sets up walls

It blocks my rational thinking,
Makes me feel as though I am sinking

Rain cycles from the ground to the sky,
But in my anxiety I simply lie

She finishes writing the test
Thankful her anxious brain can rest

But the test isn't actually done,
As students discuss the answers to number one.

They compare solutions,
go over the questions they found tough,
The girl wishes she could plug her ears,
But the students haven't had enough.

As they talk they realize they got some wrong,
But take it lightly in stride,
They do not know that if the girl joined in,
it'd crush her soul and pride.

Because it starts the criticism rolling,
Bashes her left and right,
"How could you get such an easy question wrong?
You're anything but bright"

"Try harder next time,
come on, I'm sure you can do better.
You need to do well, idiot,
A is the golden letter"

Others wonder why she doesn't join in
On the post-test debates,
If only they knew the anxiety and sadness it brought her,
Her mind, how it self-berates.

The girl is working to quiet the noise,
To silence the negative notions,
But until then don't discuss too much in her presence,
Step by step, she's setting positivity in motion.

They whisper in my ear
Preying on a fear

A fear of not measuring up.

Listen to me, they say
Your failures will go away

You'll be special and exalted

They tell me I'll be amazing,
better than my peers
For restriction is an achievement
Regardless of the tears

Hunger is control
Control is the answer
Nobody understands you anyways,
Listen to the internal master

Remember how you hated yourself?
Despised your reflection in the mirror?
At least when you were sad
Your "perfect body" brought you cheer.

Yet despite these promising phrases
I know the impending hazes

So I will fight this easy path
And free myself from this wrath

For I am special in my own right
because I have something to give
I can help others
I choose to live

She presses her bony back up against the wall and crouches into a ball.

The pain she feels inside is too horrible to hide.

Everyone can see it, she’s ashamed of how she looks.

But the illness wails on.

It tells her she’s not smart enough.

Not good enough to be loved.

You? You’re a sick freak, how could anyone like you?

You made a mistake? Now wallow in regret as it gnaws at your very core.

A year ago there certainly is nothing you wanted more.

Than to be a bit lighter, like those other girls.

Like the athletic girl you used to be.

No more sweets, no more food luxuries.

Perpetual restriction is the key.

At first, others commented on the body she attained.

Until she continued on and on, until barely anything remained.

Desperate for some help, she held on for dear life.

As her parents endlessly convinced her, in the future there’d be less strife.

She lived as a zombie for months and months on end.

Restriction, self hatred, and hopelessness, filled the thoughts in her head.

You ate a bit of dessert?  You broke your cardinal rule.

All you wanted is to lose some weight, but look at you, you fool.

Now she lives with the constant reminders, of the horror that occurred.

Her hair, thin and brittle, dry as straw.

Her skin, yellowed and bruised, scarred from the pain within.

Her all too thin appearance, makes her not want to be touched.

She fears intimacy, and letting others feel her cold hands.

Yet when she goes to eat, that demon is stuck on replay.

Remember how you hated yourself?  Don’t ***** up your intake.

A loss of control is a loss of self worth.  Which you barely have anyways.

Perfect your food intake and you can escape that dreadful regret.

You’re broken, so broken.

Yet out of the sobs and trembling, the girl utters a phrase

“My strength emanates from my cracks, which will cover them

and cure my haze”

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.

These moments always bring her dread
For they arouse the negativity in her head.

To most kids, they sit and anxiously wait,
While she awaits her most feared fate

Papers passed about by the teacher.
Students scramble to get their grade.
She sits there, wishing the moment would pass.
Wishing she could simply fade.

The verdict's in, the marks are out,
Kids discuss and compare.
They ask her what she got,
She wishes she were anywhere but there.

She sneaks a peak at the paper,
Immediate thoughts cloud her brain
Students desperately want to know,
She braces for the impending pain.

"I beat her, I beat her!"
A few students cry
Others beam at their amazing feat.
As the girl feels her insides die.

"You're an idiot, how could you get those wrong?"
The mockery arises in her head.
She hates herself more than you'll ever know,
A few of her tears are painfully shed.

Her faults are pointed out by others,
As they celebrate their victory,
And her internal demons hiss at her,
From criticism, she is never free.

These instances may seem short-lived,
The pain will surely pass,
But these cracks in her self confidence
Caused it to shatter into broken glass.

A dagger was stabbed into her heart
Words are deadlier than weapons

With each and every crude remark
Her mind slips and fades into the dark

When will you understand
That your words burn like searing beach sand

To them , I shall not listen anymore
Today I close that condescending door.