I march along the pavement
Feeling incredibly lonely
Although I am not alone
I have my demons with me
Depression draped like a scarf
Resting over my eyes
I cannot see
Through it's myriad of lies
Anxiety whispering
Softly In my ear
You're not good enough
You don't belong here
My BDD stops me
At every mirror I pass by
I have to meet the standards
Of my demons perfectionist eye
I walk along shrouded
In my invisible darkness
You look at me and see a normal girl
You'd never guess I carry all this

I think you might have serious psychological issues.
A combination of PTSD and BDD,
resulting in an extreme form of misandry,
which you compensate for by completely disrespecting your own body.
With masochism as a defense mechanism,
and danger as stress relief;
your personal well-being is so far down on your list that it turns my stomach just thinking about it.
You're some kind of crazy and it makes me feel kind of sick.
How's that for a diagnosis?

I tried to make it easy for myself. To give it up. I used to sit around pick at my food, and wonder how many pounds I would need to lose. I had a goal set in my mind. I wasn't ready to stop. It was becoming my time. All the constant compliments on my weight, didn't care if I saw the light of day, as long I was skinny, I was happy. I was pretty.


Now the world's a pretty ****** up place. But when you have BDD you think you're a disgrace. I pushed and pulled and tried to mold my body, into something I wasn't. That's not even the ****** part. I used to take the pills, chug the water. Was ashamed to call myself my parent's daughter. I was praying for something to come. And while it seems real dumb because according to you I'm pretty, I don't see what you see. Me calling myself fat wasn't for attention. It was a call for help. I just wanted to mention that starving yourself won't get the job done, and if you think it will, it'll harm you a ton. So please stay beautiful the way you are. And don't lose that precious beat in your heart. You're the only you there'll ever be. I love you for you. I just don't love me for me.

Butchers used to hang their pigs (ham) by the tendons (strings) in the back of the knee. The Hamstrings are actually 3 different muscles that work together to extend the hip    and flex the knee.
Basically the hamstrings most important job is to make sure your leg doesn’t fly off your body when you run.
Yes, Found words with capitals. Then there are cheeestrings which i find taste of  nothing
in particular.
He was not tongue tied in the medical sesnse, he stammered and was bullied over it. While
I stood by with love and embarrasment .
We have since learned a thing or more.
Then there is the thread to consider,                             yet I understand that some use thorns.
Stories continue of bound feet and
crippling
people.
He suggested that body dysmorhia may be at the heart of things.                                           bdd.
I fear he may be right.

Research Albino.

sbm.

The doctors say you have a diagnosis
That your diagnosis is anorexia nervosa.
What the heck are they talking about?
Maybe I should listen to them, I don’t know, I’m so full of self doubt.

I thought I knew myself so well
They say you lose yourself and identity in the process
What process?
Of trying to be thin?  
You don’t know who you are.
You should've known that, can’t you tell by your scar?

Still don’t believe your diagnosis? You’re in denial!
Why can’t you see this? It’s not healthy to be running mile by mile
What about the mini diagnoses in the process?
What about the OCD, BDD, PTSD, oh!  don’t forget about the osteopenia…
This disease isn’t what you wanted? Why? You’ve heard the glamour in the media.

What’s that you say? You want to stop?
You can’t stop now, keep going, you’re making jaws drop
Wait… this isn’t what you wanted.
You hate attention.
Take each day as learning a new lesson.
You’re gone, it’s taken over.

Machines are beeping, bags attached with long tubes.. Why aren’t I happy?
Your blood pressure has dropped, and your heart rate reached 43 today too, congratulations! That’s nothing new.
Doctors say living like this, you have a few years left.
Of course that’s what happens when you’re playing with death.
All because you don’t think your beautiful.
Now you're stuck here, laying blankly in a hospital bed.
After all it’s your fault, you believed it, when they said you’re better off dead.

As your mind races, you channel that little girl you used to be.
White blonde hair, big blue eyes, you were happy, nothing else mattered.
Playing, running in dress up clothes, singing Disney songs, running to mom and dad.
It was the best life a little girl could have!
The only thing you needed to worry about was the paint and how you felt the colour.
Why did that little ever deserve this pain and torture?
It’s time to wake up from this living horror.

Lifeless, depressed, but still fake smiles show through, this is an allusion.
Soon this disease became the only thing you knew.
Your smile was beautiful, your hair was long,
This is a facade.
Your game of Russian roulette is like holding a lightning rod.

As you grow older, the memories, statements, and voices will soon fade.
You learned something new through your hospitalization.
Time to create more life worth living moments, those are here to stay.
The bullying, your ex boyfriend, your grandpa's death, it all doesn’t define you.
Remember facts about yourself, your own personal characteristics, that’s what people find interesting.
They don’t notice or see the aspects you find belittling.

Your vision of a sea of white still has time to change
Save yourself now before you make others live a life of pain
After all, your identity is not your diagnosis.
If you just focus,
You have the power to change...everything...

Could I be more?

If the grips of anxiety didn’t choke me until I feel constantly on my last breath
If PTSD didn’t rid me of sleep
If sadness didn’t settle in my bones and weigh my body down
If BDD didn’t starve me figuratively and literally

Could I be more?