Relapse

‘You spent along time in the bathroom’ 

Said mum

‘I’m not feeling too good, my tummy hurts a lot and my hands feel numb’

I cast my eyes downward as I know it’s self inflicted 

I swear I am okay, and hope my mum will be uplifted. 

I’m doing okay I promise 

I need abit more space 

To prove to myself I can do this 

With not too much hast. 

I push them away again, I push everyone out

No one can know the cliff I have fallen off of, they can’t even doubt. 

‘You’ve been out a lot today fi, are you okay

I feel like I’ve barely seen you recently

Is there anything you want to say?’ 

No mum I promise, dad I am fine

A stab presses my stomach, for me lying is a crime. 

My therapist, dietician and psychiatrist 

Social workers and more

They know something doesn’t add up

But my deceit wins the war. 

I’m wrapped up in layers on layers 

Shaking by the fire 

Nothing will warm this empty house I live in

This so called body, draped in attire. 

I’m okay, I promise I’m managing on the whole

I have my blips and bad days but I’m not poorly anymore. 

My bedroom has become darker, the drawers are locked with secrets 

My pencil sharpeners aren’t one anymore

And the pills are my weakness. 

My journal entities are shorter 

The same few words over and recall

Of tiredness, emptiness and hopelessness

Of how I just cannot do it anymore.