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slr Sep 2019
i finally lost [some of] it
but 15 isn't enough
i want 115
i want to shrink away
into nothingness
i want to stop feeling
all of this pain
i don't want to keep doing this
and losing it is the easiest way
i've struggled with eating disorders for a while now. and i can feel myself going back to old, toxic habits. but, i don't want to stop it. because maybe if i plunge in headfirst, he will come back to me.
Arden Sep 2019
I don't have an eating disorder
But
I eat one meal a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
I cant eat more than 700 calories a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
I have to skateboard at least 5 hours a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
If I don't know how many calories is in something I can't eat it
Floor Sep 2019
I'm scared that I'll **** up
I'm scared that people won't accept the real me, the person with scars and a history full of pain and abuse
I'm scared that I'll throw my life away by dreaming too much
And I'm scared that I'll not dream enough
I'm scared that i will forever be scared
Trapped in my anxiety and shame
I'm scared that I won't be enough
I'm scared to lose my family and friends
I'm scared to lose my mind
I'm so close to losing my mind
I'm scared that I'll cut too deep
And I'm scared that I'll never cut deep enough
I'm scared of living
I'm scared of myself
I'm scared
Lydeen Aug 2019
How
Counting
Saving
Stashing.

How many will work?

Or! Maybe I can
disassemble
my Pencil Sharpener.

Or better yet,

Knit a long,
Skinny,
Scarf.

Where to hang it though?

Perhaps I could take a
Too Hot
Bath,

And sit till it's cold.

Maybe...
Weigh myself,
Until I'm satisfied

That'd do it too.
If you get all of this sorry lol but I bet almost everyone does on here
Cole Aug 2019
My best friend is anorexic.
So I feel it is my job,
To make sure she eats once or twice a day.
Sometimes she gets upset with me.
So I listen to her words.
"She is skinnier than me"
"I'm pretty fat"
I roll my eyes and disagree.
She tells me she is right.
But the fear I have is there.
She won't listen to my words.
Almost eighteen and ninety pounds.
I'm scared that she will die.
I wrap my fingers around her arm,
And tell her I am scared.
She says she's fine and rolls her eyes.
It's not that she doesn't care.
I know deep down she fears.
She'll die from her self torture.
But I see where she comes from.
I understand the choices.
I'm little hypocritical.
I don't eat, and force her to.
I know that she sees that.
They say nothing, I am fine.
It's not like I am her.

-3nwlry
This is actually about my best friend.
Floor Aug 2019
eating is torture
eating is a total nightmare
I’m torn between needing the food because I’m starving and being horrified of the food coming inside of my body and making me feel full
The feeling of the food inside of my stomach is absolutely terrifying
I’m the puppet of my anorexia
I’m terrified of getting away with not eating, but there’s a bigger part that praises me when I get away with not eating
I’m never gonna make it easy for them, because of the terror
Eating makes me so ******* scared
I don’t want to gain weight, I’m already fat
The people around me are lying, telling me I am too skinny
Or is it my head that’s lying to me?
Why do I see a fat person in the mirror when I look at myself
I eat less than a 100 calories each day
I need a minimum of 2000
How is it that I’m still so fat?
Eating is horrifying to me
My parents think I do it to control them, but that’s such a lie
I do it because I’m genuinely scared to eat
I fear eating and I fear food
I fear getting my stomach full and I fear getting fat
I don’t know how to overcome this fear
I’m working so hard and no one sees it
kain Aug 2019
This is selfish
And I know
I know
I always do
But that doesn't stop me
From self absorbed thoughts
Then panicking
When I notice
Then slicing open
My thighs
Bleeding out
My lies
It's such a vicious cycle
And it's only
The start
I won't say
That I'm not ashamed
Of the things I've done
Of the person
I've become
But I also can't say
That I didn't want this
That I didn't
Ask for this
Because I did
And I deserve it
I don't remember a time
When things weren't wrong
It's the subtleties
The little things
I looked up
On my first phone
The pinching
The picking
The restricting
I was only eleven then
I made friends
I shouldn't have
I opened my arms
To the whole world
And it rushed in
Too fast
I wasn't ready
I know that now
But I asked for it
And I can't change
The past
The first time
My mother told me
She was worried
I wondered why
I was always
The one who worried
The one who noticed
The anguished faces
Who pressed her ear
To the bathroom door
And heard the muttered
Conversations
About things
And how they go wrong
And always
It seemed
I was the heart of it all
So I was scared
I wanted to change
I haven't known a day
Without shame
In at least five years now
That's an awfully
Long time
To survive
In the wild
Menacing darkness
Just a child
A babe in the woods
How would you feel
If that babe knew
About the monsters
The creatures of the deep
All the bad things
That most people
Run from
And she took them
With a scream
That was me
I was lost
I still am
To some degree
There are scars
That will never fade
But it was all
For a rush
That highlight
Starstruck
Moonlit night
When I cried
For so long
Because I couldn't have him
Or her
Or them
Or anyone
In particular
And it all climaxed
Again and again
There doesn't seem
To be an end
Just more walls
In my twisting maze
Every time
I see a light
It turns out
It's just a phase
An illusion
A ghost
Of something I never had
Maybe if she hadn't died
Maybe if they'd never fought
Maybe if I'd been a
Better child
None of this
Would've happened
There must be
Another world
Where I find happiness
But that's not mine
That's not me
I'm the timeline
That everyone is glad
They don't belong to
I'm the mess
The perfect tragedy
My parents
What do they even
Think of me
I can imagine that
Hospital fees
Add up pretty quick
And with all that I've done
I'm not worth
What I cost
I'm just a mess
A disaster of a girl
I was never meant to be born
But he died
Instead
And here I am
Dying for the light
But unwilling
To venture out
I guess I'm
Sick and twisted
In a number of ways
But more than anything
I'm scared
And I'm not enough
I'm not skinny
Like I was
I can barely show
My face in public
I can't wear shorts
Except around the house
And I hate myself
So much
Most of the time
That dying often seems
Like the only answer
I'll never stop coming back to
So yeah
My depression
So big and ugly
I'm unable
To untangle
Its reflection from mine
We're so
Intertwined
I've been here for so long
It's grown around me
It's a dying tree
And I am dying with it
To anyone who has made it this far: thank you. This is barely a poem, more like some catharsis I've needed for a while. If you read that all... thank you. Thank you. You know more than everyone, pretty much. Thank you for listening. You don't have to give me a single thought. Just knowing that you've heard, and you've seen what I've done, and I'm still alive despite a witness to the **** I've created and destroyed... that is enough. It's worth more than any comment or like or repost. Don't worry about those things. If anyone gets this far, you've done enough.
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