me, moon, a 13 year old young boy who ate happily and had eyes filled with love and dreams,
had stretch marks.
me, moon, knew they were there but started feeling ashamed when someone pointed them out.
me, moon, a almost 17 year old boy who now passes on dinner and lunch and breakfast.
i ate two rice cakes a day and feeling the lemon water i religiously drank make it's way down my throat, splashing around in my stomach made the corners of lips turn upwards.
me and food have never held hands.
we never closed our eyes at the delight of the smells of cake and food made by my mother.
for when i was hungry,
i remembered my mother telling me how thin i look and how pretty i looked.
i wanted that all the time.
so,
me, moon, doesn't give into food.

some people are born anxious
a tidal pool of dry-heave and spider bones
a conundrum whirlwind of seared tongue not tasting anything for days
i think there's a nausea that hides under my shirt sleeves
there's an unproven cluster of nervous cells waiting for my elbows to
suddenly start fidgeting
a dehydrated vocabulary of what to say
and is it appropriate to say it
autumn is forever around here

I'm just attempting to manage my emotions,
I'm doing the best I can,
Mostly I think I'm doing very ******* well,
Or maybe I just want all these "professionals" to be wrong.

Occasionally I stop and remember:
"Of course they're right Chloe,
How can you possibly say you don't have deep psychological issues right now?"
But since these dissociative symptoms have started:
I've felt amazing mentally.

I must admit that before that,
I felt pretty bad - bad enough to actually admit and ask for help,
But doesn't that show how I'm "dealing with it",
I don't like people telling me my body's dealing with my psychological feelings physically,
I express myself all the **** time,
And they don't know anything!

I'm sick of the psychoanalysis,
And then them claiming they don't psychoanalyse
On that website they keep telling me to revisit.
They seem to think if you talk about your problems -
They just disappear!
And if you educate yourself on conversion disorders -
The symptoms will finally go away!
I could go through that website,
A thousand times and I will still
Remain to have spasms, tremors
And weakness.

I am managing my thoughts and feelings at the moment,
But that doesn't help me manage my physical symptoms:
They are literally debilitating and unmanageable,
Only they tell me I need to "accept it",
This whole poem is showcasing me doing exactly that.
As many times as I deny thinking that this is a functional illness,
I match referring to it as just that.

It's funny that I write so much,
And almost worship the skill
Yet I haven't felt the need to write about what's been happening for months now.
The reason I finally am in this moment,
Was actually because
I think I'm starting to feel things again,
And now I'm wondering if I've been pushing all of it back,
Which is exactly what they want to hear,
So they can say "your body's expressing it because your mind can't manage it, you need to express and deal with this."
You know what?
I really do wonder what the hell they think that "coping" is!

Maybe they would just say,
I'm avoiding my feelings and memories right now,
By coming to my notes section to seek some peace,
As what they would like to think of as a facade,
All comes crumbling down.

The waves of intensity belong to me,
And as much as I don't always enjoy them,
You can leave them all alone because they're mine,
And you can't tell me how or if I'm handling them properly.
Sometimes I just feel like this is who I am,
This is what I'm prone to,
And if you want me to just get over it then fine,
I didn't seek you out in the first place
So if you want to think that I'm over it,
Then that's okay with me.

Chaos walked into my life
Threatening me with a knife
I had no choice but to fight
To take control, and make it right.

Little did I know that I wasn't in control
That something else was controlling my soul
My enemy has changed into something I lust
To be thin, I must

My enemy is the number on the scale
As he is ruling and I am in jail
I am conflicted about its reign
Cause we have the same goal and the same name

Say hello to your new friend
That is called
Anorexia Nervosa.
Rigid are her ways,
Viscious her thoughts,
Endless commitment.

i hate the way my stomach feels when it’s literally caving into itself, you know? like when you got suppppper close to your first kiss at church camp the year before your grandma died? and then it felt the same way the year she did die and you let that 22 year old feel you up on your first kiss even though you were only 12. sort of like the time you had your first true heart break, you know when he showed you what it was like to not be taken advantage of, and then time that he did take advantage of you? or the time he cheated? or how the night your soul broke because of it and your mom and sisters literally held you down and wept the whole time, begging you to not do this to yourself. you know the build up and drop you get doing a new drug for the first time, and then the 1000th?

yeah it honestly makes me sick, and it’s not just my stomach that’s affected.