Recovery is a tightrope - poem

You say I’m irrational, I am rigid and still poorly

And I know i still cannot trust myself wholefully 

and I consistently get it wrong... I’m sorry. 

I’m balancing a tightrope that is wobbling in the wind

One I’ve been navigating for quite some time, 

It takes all my effort to stay on this road, in the correct mind

And I panicked as I realised... this tightrope I balance, where does it go? 

This panic this fear, how can I know? 

It’s all so new, so untrodden and fresh 

It’s change from the patterns that almost lead me to death. 

So I know it’s important I stay upright 

And I know when I balance it brings others delight 

So I’m trying, Gosh I’m trying to hold my balance

But sometimes it’s windy, and I can’t keep treading along it, for merely standing still in these winds is an awful challenge. 

Backward is terrifying, like a black hole that chases me 

And I know I don’t want to go back there, 

And that fear makes me flee. 

But when I panic and rush, I take too longer strides

In an attempt to never go backwards, or get it wrong 

To not be lured back to the false promises it provides 

The panic, the rush, it causes me to fall

To trip on this thin wire, 

I lose time to the downfall. 

I couldn’t tell you what scares me more

The black hole chasing me

The fear of getting it wrong

The panic I am falling backwards 

That the darkness will be life long. 

Or the tightrope I tread, not knowing where it leads 

Where each day I navigate a new step

And the ground wobbles underneath. 

Where there is no predictability 

Or routine that shows me how. 

Like finding my way through the fog

And the black hole calling and causing distress anyhow. 

My knees are bent to give me stability

Because there’s a storm that’s rocking the rope

I’m grabbing on with both hands right now 

Trying to keep calm and afloat. 

Because there is of course my other biggest fear

And that’s what keeps me going. 

Is the fear that my hands slip and I loose my footing

And I completly fall off this tightrope. 

My ending foregoing. 

The power of ED - poem

It’s unrelenting 

A constant trail of abusive and scrutiny 

Mocking all that’s wrong with you 

It puts you down brutally 

It twists all the words you hear everyday

The voices your trusted, it turns them to dismay

Words of encouragement are pressures you can’t live up to

The slightest wrong look is a failure that defines you. 

How can I get you to see the confusion

How could I explain the unrelenting noise in my mind

How could I help you understand the exhaustion

How I am feeling so bruised and confined.

Hospital is scary and it holds bad times 

It can be damaging and unsupportive and I fear for my vulnerable mind. 

It can equally help me, support me in some way, it breaks up the responsibility

And sometimes I need that little extra help when it’s al feeling so loud and scary. 

But what’s hard to understand is the microscope you are under 

That I’ve been under for such a long time. 

On one shoulder is ED whispering and egging you on, pressuring, controlling, taking up all your time. 

And the other is a voice of instruction and robustness, a voice that you’ve been told you must rely. 

The noise that is created, the argument, the commands

Both sides hold their reasons and it feels like trying to calm the strongest contestation. 

Do I trust my thoughts and where they lead me

Am I doing what’s right or 

Am I being deceiving? 

The abundance of knowledge I’ve gained through the years 

Is like a bible of guidance and yet it installs so much fear. 

It’s tiring, and I feel lost 

So much noise from so many different sources 

How can I navigate the way forward? 

How can I hold my nerve when all sides hold such forces? 

I’m putty in your hands

I feel like putty in your hands

Moulded and contorted to how you want me to be 

Pressed into the space you want me to fit

Folded and made into something I’m not

Like a wrong shaped piece of origami. 

Like a puppet on strings, you call and I come

It seems no matter how empty you leave me everytime it goes wrong

I can’t help but believe that you might’ve changed this time 

You tell me that coming back to you means I’m strong. 

You tell me I’m pretty and worth it, that you’re willing to put up with me because you care 

Well your fist speaks otherwise, the bruises that appear. 

Your words are twisting my mind and turning my thoughts dark

And the lines are ever frequent that trace my wrists. 

They say, you chose me because I was vulnerable 

And I wouldn’t be able to say no

They say you knew every move you made

That you will use me and then leave me alone. 

DISCHARGE! - poem & writing

There was once a girl

Who was so scared, lost and confused 

A shell of a person, barely surviving 

Caught in a cycle so vicious, she was exhausted and bruised. 

Shipped and passed around from hospital to hospital 

She seemed unreachable, her life ending at just 19 seemed probable. 

Health deteriorating, She lay awake at night 

Counting her slowing heart beats 

Her aching body, cramping, shouting, crying 

Begging to hold on, warning her she was dying. 

She stumbled through each day getting weaker and weaker,

Not only physically but her mind too

She was falling, she was dying. 

She resigned her life to the illnesses that would kill her 

She hated herself so much 

She wanted nothing more than to disappear. 

She wept into her pillow at night 

And hid away in her room

She was in so much mental pain that she turned it in on herself 

She punished hererlf, tore herself down; 

Was so harsh and violent, self- depreciating, self abusive,

But outwardly was silent. 

She starved herself, And took blades to her skin

She tried to end her life

Because she couldn’t cope with the pain within. 

She hit rock bottom, only for the ground to collapse beneath her

She fell so far down the rabbit hole that she couldn’t believe there was a way up, she couldn’t believe it could ever get better. 

That girl is me, and I am proud to say

I am here today, able to tell my story,

Of the times I felt so whrenchingly hopeless, so pained, angry, lost and alone, sad and terrified 

But here today because,

Despite it all, I did survive. 

I’m the girl that fought the demons she swore had won

That needed a little bit of help to see the fire hadn’t gone out, maybe just dimmed in the storm. 

But a lot of hard work and patience 

Meant the single lasting flame stood strong in the gales

And with a lot of dedication, the fire started to warm again, the light started to glow

And I began to see it was worth it, even if it felt slow. 

I’m the girl that got back up 

Everytime I fell over. 

I’m the girl that kept reminding herself to hold on, 

Because this pain couldn’t last forever 

I had to learn how to stand again, on my own two feet 

And brace myself for the next hit. I had to learn that yes the storm will hit,

But I cannot quit. 

I’m the girl that was once so lost

So quiet, scared and hidden 

That now laughs, and smiles

That now has a vision. 

I want the days to be longer 

And the nights oh so starry. 

I want the sun to shine, the leaves to rust

I want the snow to fall, to accumulate in drifts. 

I want to dream in wanderlust. 

I want to meet more people 

And explore more places 

I want to live in this world 

To live, not just survive 

After all these years of not even living

I’ve been revived. 

I’m the girl that was told I would never get better 

The girl that was signed off as chronic. 

I’m the girl that was turned away by help

For being too complex, too chaotic. 

I’m also the girl that never stopped fighting 

No matter what my illnesses told me

No matter how torn down I felt

Because I wanted to be free. 

And I kept going, no matter the cards I was dealt. 

I’m the girl, that is not supposed to be here. 

But I stand here today, strong, alive

And ready to take on the world 

Because despite all the odds,

I did survive. 

Well, here we are. Twenty nine months later. Two years and 6 months later... 

The whole of this admission has been an absolute rollercoaster, but I am a completly different person to the shell of a girl that was dragged trough those doors all that time ago. Apart from the fact I’ve come away with a slight Scottish twang of an accent, 2 tattoos and 8 piercings... I am actually a person now. I’ve sat through the toughest therapy sessions, I’ve poured my heart out. I’ve felt vulnerable, I’ve had to let down my walls I had up so fixed against the world, and although it was a little forced at times, I learnt to give up my eating disorder. Go against it’s awful lies, orders and commands. 

I nearly lost my life to anorexia, multiple times. I was 19 when I was sectioned and I honestly wanted to die. It terrifies me that I was in such an awful place, and that I had resigned myself to my eating disorder.  I solely wanted to disappear. I fought everyone and anyone that tried to help me, it was the scariest and most confusing time of my life. Well, thank god I survived, thank god I got such incredible support and although it has taken ALONG time... I have finally made it to a point where I am able to be discharged from inpatient hospital treatment! 

I still have along way to go, and I’m aware this is where the hard work really begins. But I have fought for my life back, a real life now. For the first time in years, I feel free, because I AM! 

I’m falling - poem

You ask me how I’m feeling

What’s happening in my head 

How can I explain

That I’m holding on by a thread

That every minute feels like an hour

And yet the days are flying by

I spend each waking moment

Waiting for the day to pass by. 

You ask me if I’m okay, and I smile and say fine

And I feel a stab of frustration 

That I am still lying. 

I wish I could say help me

I’m getting sucked in again

The badness in me is overwhelming

And I can’t help but give in. 

The urges are too strong 

The emotions are so intense 

I don’t seem to be able to handle this life

Even the smallest of challenges seem immense. 

How can I explain that I feel like I’m back at square one 

That I’m having to merely remind myself to breathe again 

That all the things I fought so hard to overcome

Have slowly snuck their way back in. 

How do I admit I’ve fallen

That I’ve failed yet again

The cycle continues to rage on

And I feel resigned to give in. 

How can I explain the irrational logic

Of my mind, thoughts and behaviour 

How can I admit that despite all my hard work

Anorexia still feels safer. 

I didn’t mean for this to happen 

I tried to stay strong

But the truth is I’m falling

I haven’t been as okay a I’ve been pretending 

Maybe this was fate along. 

You ask me how I’m feeling - poem

You ask me how I’m feeling

What’s happening in my head 

How can I explain

That I’m holding on by a thread

That every minute feels like an hour

And yet the days are flying by

I spend each waking moment

Waiting for the day to pass by. 

You ask me if I’m okay, and I smile and say fine

And I feel a stab of frustration 

That I am still lying. 

I wish I could say help me

I’m getting sucked in again

The badness in me is overwhelming

And I can’t help but give in. 

The urges are too strong 

The emotions are so intense 

I don’t seem to be able to handle this life

Even the smallest of challenges seem immense. 

How can I explain that I feel like I’m back at square one 

That I’m having to merely remind myself to breathe again 

That all the things I fought so hard to overcome

Have slowly snuck their way back in. 

How do I admit I’ve fallen

That I’ve failed yet again

The cycle continues to rage on

And I feel resigned to give in. 

How can I explain the irrational logic

Of my mind, thoughts and behaviour 

How can I admit that despite all my hard work

Anorexia still feels safer. 

I didn’t mean for this to happen 

I tried to stay strong

But the truth is I’m falling

I haven’t been as okay a I’ve been pretending 

Maybe this was fate along. 

The blurred lines

I don’t know. 

I don’t know when the width of my thighs 

Became more important than the breadth of my smile

And the 10 extra calories swapped the shine in my eyes

With tear filled hatred and anger

When my glowing face changed to a tear stained surface

So grey, dry, and cold. 

I can’t tell you when I stopped giving a damn if I survived

I no longer ache to grow old. 

I cant pinpoint when my existence became robotic 

And my mind filled with more numbers than a mathematician. 

I don’t know when emotions became so painful and intense

When I started to find comfort and control in making the decisions

Of how to be calmer

How to feel safe

How to control

Any more obstacles I might face. 

I don’t know when this happened

But I fell before I tripped. 

Surrounded by the same 4 walls that have haunted me for over four years

When all I wanted to do was be at peace. 

We luv win an eternal paradox - poem

We live in an eternal paradox. 

Where genuine happiness is often only felt due to going through a great deal of pain 

And you feel greatful for spontaneous adventures only once you’ve been driven crazy with the mundane. 

Where safety can only be so treasured  after feeling so scared 

And do you want to be your own person, an individual, after being so harshly compared. 

When you meet the most beautiful souls in the most difficult situations

When and find laughter only through tears. 

And be able to see how brave you are once you’ve faced your biggest fears. 

When you experience the comfort of home and familiarity 

Only after a great deal of time spent away and instability. 

When you touch fingertips with death, where you fight back to revive

In order to never go a day where you’re not thankful you’re alive. 

Where the things that could cause us to die 

Are the things that make us feel alive 

And only when you’re living being treated in special circumstances, do you wish to be merely seen as just a human. 

Freedom - poem

Freedom. 

What is freedom? 

It’s not situational 

It’s not about having

The paperwork to say 

You’re allowed out for a few hours in the day. 

Freedom is laughing 

It’s running around the park

Freedom is feeling 

Like a child again at heart. 

Freedom is drinking cocktails at 3pm

And eating chocolate buttons because you can. 

Freedom is being able to be spontaneous, not always having a precise plan. 

Freedom is being able to hear your own voice

Beneath your eating disorders seemingly unrelenting call. 

Freedom is photos of you smiling and laughing, having fun and being daft 

it’s not forced or posed, it’s captured, its moments in time

That could never be recreated 

And aren’t formulated from the past

They’re memory making, they’re real living, they’re giving you the chance to feel... 

freedom isn’t a word or position, it’s something you work so hard to make real. 

You see, you could gain freedom from hospitals, or sections or restrictions

You could gain the permission to do an activity you want

But true freedom, it comes from within

When you give yourself permission to breathe again

When you don’t give the voice in your head the power to control you

When you find yourself in darkness, and light sparklers

When you feel lonely and let yourself be with others. 

When you sleep through the night and laugh through the day,

When you can be with others, or by yourself, and be assured that actually, 

you really are okay. 

Freedom is laughing, smiling, being happy

But also crying, feeling low and that’s okay. 

It’s being you, wholeheartedly you

How do I explain what I don’t understand? - poem

How do I explain what I don’t understand? 

How can I help you see what I believe to be reality? 

How can I make you understand that I don’t feel I have a choice 

When it orders, I obey, I react on command. 

How can I show you what I see

And explain how o feel 

How this world feels so big and scary 

And I feel so small. 

How can I say that I am lost, scared, vulnerable and confused 

That the war in my head is so vicious and I’m in the cross fire feeling bruised. 

How can I show you that I am trying, my god am I trying. 

But it’s not enough. 

Because I’m falling. 

How can I say I’m sorry that I haven’t worked it out yet 

That there’s no clear question so I can even begin to fathom an answer. 

How can I say I’m sorry for struggling

And that I’m as frustrated as you. 

How can I admit that my mind isn’t as healed

As people wish it was. 

That the wounds still run deep and are aching

And I’m limping around at a loss. 

How can I show you how much I am trying, with the full knowledge that it’s not good enough. 

How can I appease you and the voice in my mind? 

How do I find some calm, some quiet 

By only causing minimal harm. 

How do I explain that I am tired, so fucking tired of this fight. 

That I feel so much anger at myself and the world 

That I’m still desperately searching for the light 

How can I excuse my slip ups 

If I’m ever going to get this right? 

How do I make it okay again

How do I remain polite? 

When my whole mind and body is feeling so intensely 

All these things that make no sense

That ignite such a vicious war in my mind

That I block and numb and suppress all through the day 

But the demons are hiding in the dark,they come out to haunt me at night. 

How do I say I mean what I preach

And that I want to get better 

It’s just not as simple as

Just choosing to get there. 

It’s very urge that runs through you

It’s your survival instincts kicking in

It’s confusing and exhausting 

And I know it’s the easy option to just give in. 

But please understand 

What I struggle to explain

I am trying my hardest 

But I fear I do have the strength 

To pull myself back out of it again.