#edrecovery
I love baking,
But I only allow myself the pleasure of making,
And let everyone else do the tasting.
Jan 16, 2025
Jan 16, 2025 at 5:53 PM UTC
There are brief, shining moments
When I exist only for
Myself
When my words aren’t rearranged for anyone’s comfort
And my face isn’t composed for anyone’s enjoyment
And my body is just
My own
I have never belonged to myself
I grew up passed from
Judgment to judgment
Eyes raking me at every turn
So I would sit
Every day
In front of the mirror
And pick myself apart for the world’s consumption
Everyone has always taken what they wanted
I have driven myself insane
Trying to keep fragments of my own
To just hold on to the feeling of being mine
But I have never known how to be that way
And I will give everything I have
Until I have nothing
Oct 1, 2022
Oct 1, 2022 at 12:42 PM UTC
"Your hair will fall out"
"You'll faint and pass out"
"Why must you hurt yourself?"
I don't mean to, I swear
I try to recover
Each time I fail
Skin and bones are what I desire
At least that's what my mind tells me
As my body is starving, fading away
Recovery is hard
Relapse is familiar
My eating disorder is killing me
Sep 23, 2021
Sep 23, 2021 at 11:40 PM UTC
Across the table
my grandpa asks me why
i don't eat cinnamon toast crunch anymore.
The last time i saw them
i loved it so much
that he tried it, and got hooked
but now i don't touch it.
And i don't know how to tell him
why,
how to tell him
that the thought of all that sugar
paralyzes me.
So i just sit with my corn flakes,
avoid his eyes
and hope he doesn't notice
how desperately i wish i could eat it.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 11:47 PM UTC
i once took shame in this struggle.
closed blinds,
empty body
'nobody needs to know'
believing myself to be a burden, i buried myself.
i spent years decomposing,
cold and unrecognizable.
a fossil of my former self.
but now i hold the shovel
and free myself from this earthen cage.
i am beginning to understand that there is beauty in asking for help,
and i have planted the seeds of self love.
watch as they grow roots and blossom
-here's to a fresh start
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 11:50 AM UTC
sometimes, i miss being sick.
i miss the feeling of my sharp ankles on the cold scale. the scale has been hidden from my judgemental eyes.
i miss the automatic caloric calculator, the blinding neon-sign. it's still there, always and impossible to ignore, like television subtitles. but i eat anyway.
i miss the feeling of my jeans becoming baggier around pencil legs. yesterday i had to go to american eagle to buy the same pair of ripped jeans, two sizes larger than what i was a year ago.
i miss the blue polka-dot Tupperware in the farthest corner of my closet that i used to erase the shame of feeling full. i can't have containers anywhere in my bedroom.
i miss the feeling of drinking so much water that my body becomes a shallow pool that my insides float in. i have a limit on the amount of fluids i can consume in a day.
i miss walking into a meal knowing exactly how to eliminate all of it, without question. now when i do behaviors i feel the shame of my whole family in my chest.
i miss karaoke nights. i can't sing any of the songs i did in the hospital. it just feels wrong.
i miss sitting in a circle of other sick girls and forgetting, for a moment. they're in different places all over the world, enjoying life as recovered anorexics.
i miss staying up late talking to my roommate and questioning whether recovery is worth it, or even possible. she's in california with her girlfriend, enjoying being alive.
i miss licking salt of ice cubes. everything is locked into safes.
but mostly, i miss you. you're gone.
.
Jan 6, 2020
Jan 6, 2020 at 1:54 PM UTC
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...
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
the days you spend
no longer feeling the familiar ache in your chest
noticing how at ease you feel
wondering how long this feeling has been here but you were too unaware to notice
grateful
but confused
is it my time to feel good?
is it my time to bloom and flourish?
you can't help but latch onto the piece of you that wants the illness
but even so
you choose each day to take steps forward so you can ensure that tomorrow
you will wake up
and you will no longer feel the familiar ache in your chest
Dec 24, 2017
Dec 24, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
Weekly goals written on the board
share one common thread of hope: that we would live another day, another week.
Faces of worry, guilt, and shame are universal as we verbally state where we want to see ourselves in seven days time.
"Purge free for at least one day."
"Refrain as much as I can from body checking."
"Get in at least 3 meals a day."
"Find and use positive coping mechanisms."
"Affirm myself three times for every one time that I say something horrible about myself."
While it is easy to write these hope-filled words on a board, the actual challenge is staying true to them.
Hours of therapy can only make us aware of the areas in our life that need healing.
The healing process, however, lays in our own frail, cold hands.
Living a life married to ones eating disorder is a life lived in a mirror covered box with no apparent way out.
But mirrors lie.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
150: "I've never had a fat girlfriend" your now ex-boyfriend explains when questioned about the reason why he said the two of you just won't work. He tells you that "he thinks you're cute, but would be much cuter if you lost a few pounds". His words echo in your brain until eventually insults are the only thing you can force yourself to swallow.
120: Everyone is congratulating you on your extraordinary weight loss, they all want to know your secrets. You don't tell them that every night you're on your knees worshipping the toilet bowl. That the only chocolate you've tasted in months is the chalky, sweetness of the laxatives that you take like a daily vitamin. That you don't allow yourself food until the emptiness inside you threatens to steal your consciousness. Instead, you smile and say "must be good genes".
90: You get into a fight with your mother after she tries to force you to eat dinner with your family. You ate yesterday, this will throw off all the goals you've been striving towards. You no longer know how to survive if you're not destroying yourself in the process.
90: You run into your ex boyfriend at the local Walmart with his new girlfriend. She's heavier than you are, but her eyes still shine like lighthouses, he hasn't gotten to her yet. You try to telepathically tell her to run, to leave while she's still whole, but you know the message gets lost on its way. So you settle for a smile, and a compliment to the figure she still has.
120: It's so hard to live in a society where perfection is unattainable but at the same time required... However, it's not impossible. You are already in recovery, you've made it through the hardest part. It's so much better to be full of food than full of empty wishes.
150: Your new girlfriend whines about how jealous she is of your curves, compares your body to that of an ancient goddess. You hesitantly accept the compliment, still not comfortable with imagining your body as anything other than the curse he made you think it was. Darling, your body is not the curse, your body is the blessing... I'm glad you've finally started treating it as such.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
I blame it on my period, but it's my own lack of self control
I'm trying to get better, so it should start getting easier, shouldn't it?
But that's not how it works, no, not at all.
You still spend every single day consuming calories and wanting to explode.
You may not explode as often any more, but you still loosen your cannons daily.
You try to get buy with just one meal, but that turns into a full fledged feast.
You eat and you eat until you can't anymore, then goto the toilet and let some bombs explode.
But since you're getting better, you don't use up all of your ammo
You leave it hidden away, adding on some extra armor.
Then you wake up, see what all the violence caused you to gain
And you just feel like **** because you no longer come out on top every day.
You're losing battles left and right; and the saddest thing is, you're losing to your own mind.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
Sweet girl
there is no need to sit in defeat
for you were made to run
not only the race of life but the long distance of forgiveness
Sweet girl
this is not all that there is to your life
the door you choose is but a choice
the correct answer not always in view
Sweet girl
life is full, overflowing with second chances
third chances, forth chances,
the number does not matter
Sweet girl
this is your chance
to love with every fiber of your being
for the reward far outweighs the regret
Sweet girl
I will be here for you
to show you what recovery looks like
as it is better to enter with a friend
And Sweet girl
please remember whose you are
as that is what helps us live everyday
remember the battle is not against flesh and blood
Be gentle with yourself
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
Recovery
A long road
Tough, but
Worth traveling.
Even the worst days in recovery are better than the best days encompassed in an eating disorder.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
She stared at her thighs,
Tears streaming her face,
Wanting to hide,
In an isolated place.
Fatter and fatter,
They grew and grew,
Before her eyes,
Yet nobody knew.
The pain she felt,
As she watched her reflection,
Searching around her,
Wanting protection.
Her heart starts to bleed,
And her bones start to wither,
Her skin loses colour,
She continues to shiver.
The person inside her,
Causing these thoughts,
Distort her reality,
And need to be caught.
She has an illness,
A serious one too,
So please don't ignore it,
Cause next could be you.
So let's raise awareness,
Of these devils inside,
Let's hunt them down,
Leaving nowhere to hide.
Reach out your hand,
Come on, speak out,
We will beat this together,
Lets scream and shout--
To victory at last!
Its been a long time coming,
So many lost lives,
But we're no longer running.
E.M Pearson
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
**** this constant pointless battle
Because all that i ever hear
No matter what i'm doing right or wrong is:
Stupid coward weak and selfish
And at least while i surrendered to the obsession
With ribs and love and hope, perfection
There was a way to win.
But **** this endless battle
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC