No more anorexia

 Why do I feel guilty

For wanting to take my life back

You’ve once cred every inch of my body

Like an addict in crack. 

Every vein and every tissue

Screams that I need you 

My mind goes into panic, overdrive

At the thiugh of not having. You. 

It’s somewhat ironic?

Seeejng as you have almost killed me

Taken away every thing I care about

Replaced it with your empty lies and broken promises 

And I just went along with it

Desperate for the pain to ease, thinking you’d have the answers. 

You don’t. You’re a liar and a cheat

And the only thing I feel guilty for is

Not seeing your deceit. 

F uk you anorexia

And all the damage you’ve caused 

I’m getting my life back

Fionas life, of which you’re invited for no more. 

 My world is tinted with rituals and rules

Arbitrary numbers and constraints that confuse

Other may look at me with bewilderment wnd worry

I wish I could explain what it’s like to live in this flurry

Of things that rationally I know do not matter

How many times I touch the light switch or 

Or what times I can drink water. 

I wish there was a way of explaining the torment when

I even consider opposing the voices

The panic, distress and anxiety that swirls around inside

Simply at the idea of making different choices. 

Because that’s what it is to others - a choice

It is just an arbitrary number

Just a four or a five

It’s just a light switch

Or an apple

Or a walk or a drive. 

I can’t explain, so I shan’t

But hear me when I say

I’d do anything to be free from the rules

To live a different pathway. 

Why?

 Why do I feel guilty

for simply sitting down 

Why am I overwhelmed with panic

For letting the nurses help?

Why does this illness make me despise myself

for simply being alive.

Why does it want to reduce me to less than a skeleton

barely even alive. 

Why does the voice in my head

Scream and shout and cry

simply because I am trying to 

keep myself alive. 

Why is this illness in my life?

Why won't the voice get out of my head?

Why can't it leave me for just a minute?

Why does it want me dead? 

Comfort

The truth is,

there is comfort in being unwell. 

That I think it is what I deserve 

to toil in this hell. 

Anorexia conspires and makes you believe 

that when your body holds up,

everyone will think you are healed.

How can I admit that I am scared

Of the voice in my head being louder

but my body looking better

That the body malfunctioning is easier to understand 

it takes less explanantion 

and people hold your hand. 

My mind scares me

a deep vortex of things I do not know

I am afraid to be me wholefully

So instead, I simply plateau. 

I'm going to get better

 Anorexia

I’m tired of your lies

I’m tired of your life

I’m tired of obeying you and conforming to your ties. 

I’m tired of your false promises, 

They take more from me each day. 

I’m tired of your threats and anger 

And tired of your constant dismay. 

I want to turn to you and say shut up

But I am still scared

Why though? What can you do?

The damage you have already reaped I fear cannot be repaired. 

I want to be free, I want to be Fiona

I want to find a way of living in this world 

I want to be at liberty to discover 

Who Fiona is and what she likes

What she wants and her forsights. 

I want to experience the world without anxiety and fear

Perpetuated by your insatiable requests and demands

Without wanting to disappear. 

I know this won’t be easy and

You’ll try to make me feel bad

But I’ll hold the people who love me close and remind myself

It’s a good thing when you’re mad. 

It means I’m moving away from you

It means I’m winning. 

And that is the ultimate goal now,

It’s time for us to reach out ending.

A puppet on strings

 I feel so powerless against your demands

Like a puppet on strings

You pull and I raise both hands

Your voice holds such power

Installing so much fear and force 

Your screams only get louder and louder

And my lonely voice runs coarse. 

You both terrify me and appeal

How can I explain?

I hate you but I can’t live without you

I attempt to refrain 

From being your puppet, your willing servant

Because it makes others sad when you take over the real Fiona, make her redundant

And because deep down I know that

You only cause me pain

That you have stolen my life and caused such disdain. 

And yet here you still are pulling the strings

And here I still am, obeying like a dog on a leash

And I’m exhausted of this and I’m exhausted of fighting you

I’m exhausted of the illness and 

I want out of the battle now. 

I'm not doing so good

 Everyone tells me how well I am doing 

Bravo, well done, you're one of our best patients.

Taking her feed

sitting in bed

clearly she's fine

level in the head. 

I wish I could communicate 

the storm deep inside

that is raging and warring and causing so much riptide.

That is tearing me apart

and shouting me down

the guilt erupting from every inch of my body and brain

and you look at me and

say well done

and I attempt to refrain

from shouting, screaming at the top of my lungs

this is painful and it hurts. 

And I want it to stop. 

I am not okay, 

I'm not going well,

I am trapped in a hell, condemned. 

 What if

the sickness isn't the scary part

the healing is. 

Facing all the things that blurred into the background

whilst I ran myself into the ground and 

starved my mind to the point of dumb found.

What if people look at me differently 

what if they expect more and 

ask for more and 

what if I am not enough

What if they call my bluff?

Because I don't feel strong enough

I don't feel worthy

I don't feel important

or able

or competent.

I feel like an imposter

like I walk around this world in shoes that do not fit

I don't feel worthy

of taking up space

of having a voice

I don't feel I should have a place. 

There is a safty in sickness

because nothing really matters

It is easier to worry about your blood sugars

and declining weight

and clothes hanging looser and

foods becoming scarier

than to admit you don't feel enough.

Admit you are scared 

of falling

and failing

and people seeing through the mask. 

Perfectionsim

 A smudge on the paper means starting again

The smallest of errors meas a failure to my name

A minor lapse in judgment means overthinking for days

A waver in the image I strive to show means others will see me in dismay.

Perfectionism is so much more than A*'s in tests

It is a cruel, constant voice of criticism 

And fear of discontent.

It is panic and control and trying to hold up the image of coping 

When underneath I am exhausted, lacking, I am falling. 

My body isn't doing so good

 Crash calls and 

Panicked nurses

Doctors rushing in and 

worried words are corresponded.

Blood sugars crashing

blood pressure in my boots

heart rate slowing too fast

and pain from my head to my foot. 

They say this isn't about weight gain

just about keeping me alive 

I wish anorexia's voice would ease

I wish I could make it through the night. 

Two sides of my brain

 I go from

Hating my body and the feeling of food

Wanting to be empty and clean and cleansed 

To feeling so I’ll and tired and cold

And craving recovery and all that it holds. 

In a war where two sides of my brain

Want the complete opposite and I try to contain

The shouting and whispering of each strong side

In hope that one day they will calm and subside. 

It’s exhausting being caught in the to and the fro

I want more than anything to be free to let go. 

I know it’s not simple, living with this illness 

Beyond that thiugh, it’s confusing for me, let alone onlookers. 

Sat here in hospital, ng up my nose

Desperately lonely, sad and confined 

I want nothing more than my life back and fun

I’m tired of injections and feeds and blood tests

I’m so tired of anorexia

So why can’t it rest? 

I don't want to be an issue

 Scared to take up space

I don't want to be an issue

don't want to be seen as a problem 

or have needs to attend to.

I don't want to cause a pain

or say the wrong thing

or ask for something that is tricky

or make something out of nothing.

I don't want to be in others heads

take up their time

or in their world

Do you know understand why it feels easier

to simply vanish out of sight?

If I don't have needs

then I'm not a problem

If I am not even here

You won't need to worry about me withering at the bottom.

I don't want to take up space 

I don't feel worth of doing so

I want to not be here

I want to disappear. 

Two sides of the same mind

 Trying to marry two half’s of my mind

One half is angry and the other is tired

One half screams loudly and shouts and is strong

The other urges and pleads me to stop. 

One half is vindictive, brutal and harsh

It twists things and blurs things and makes me feel lost

The other side is weaker, though I know it’s words are truer 

The other side begs me, please fiona, anorexia is trying to kill you. 

Anorexia tells me I’m better now

That this nutrition I don’t need

Anorexia tells me to push people away

To resent them

Lose myself further in the abyss. 

The quiet rational side of me begs me to hear

The doctors that tell me my bloods still hold fear

That to catch an infection right now would be dangerous 

And that bm’s that drop every hour makes them nervous

That I need ECG’s because they fear my heart crashing

That I need to be careful right now, my body is lacking. 

The quiet voice of fiona sings softly throughout the day

Attempting to fragment the anger anorexia displays 

To try to make through the torment and worry

In hope that one day, I will be free from this bully. 

But it’s hard when two sides feel so opposing

When both feel so real

And so imposing. 

What happened?

 What happened to my life?

What happened to Fiona?

6 months ago I was eating donuts

and now I'm fighting over my blood sugar. 

6 months ago I was at university 

and seeing my friends

I was walking my puppy dog and 

going out for lunches

shopping and laughing

going to the beach and playing with mum in the sands.

6 months ago I was cooking with Dad and cuddling my dog 

I was eating biscoff by the jar and

getting lost in the London smog.

I look in the mirror now

at the stranger who stares back

a shell of a person

controlled, tormented

lost in the black. 

The distraction

 Something that people don't realise about anorexia is that

It is so far away from being about food

food is a distraction, a ditherance, an entirely logical and understandable struggle

for someone on the outside

But we know deep within that

the food is merely the band aid

that behind every skipped meal and snack is

a tsunami of insecurities.

People look at a thin girl not eating and wish she'd stop reading magazines

they'd say 'why does she want to look like Kim Kardashian'?

She's only skin deep.

The irony in what you're saying is stark,

the food is only skin deep

It's a defense, a weapon

to hide what is underneath. 

Healing is scary

 How can I admit

That I don’t want to par take in life right now

That the pressure and constraints of everyday

Feel like twisting and turning in my stomach and head

And that I look at other people who laugh and smile

And feel nothing but confused as to how they seem to feel so at ease

Because this world overwhelms me

And I cannot find the balance

I can’t seem to slow down and calm the unrest

And everytime it leads to such distress 

And I want to say that I am tired, tired of trying to fit in

Constantly trying to please and appease. 

How can I admit that sometimes it is easier

To simply withdraw

To give myself over to an illness

That I know wants to steal my soul. 

How can I admit that I want that emptiness

Because it feels calmer than the war

That the numb, quiet, self destruction feels safer

Than this world, than people, and correlating uproar. 

Maybe I'm not well

 I think I'm okay

until I need to move

And I have no strength

until I need to stand up

but gravity holds it's defence.

Until I start choking

with no muscle to cough

Until I can't wash myself

Or dress myself

Or stand for more than a few minutes

Until I pass out again, cold. 

Anorexia's power to deceive me

Is rifer than I ever knew

Maybe I'm not all okay

Maybe I'm not well

Maybe I'm starting to see anorexia through and through. 

Just eat...

 Backed into a corner

Locked in a cage

There’s no room for light

No space to feel

A pressure on my chest

I begin to suffocate. 

I can’t pinpoint when anorexias hold

Became overbearing, overwhelming and filled with contradiction. 

I can’t pinpoint when my mind started to blur and race

Simply at the thought of nutrition. 

People must look at me and question my hazy mind

It’s so damn simple, isn’t it? Just eat and drink and anorexia will be left behind. 

I look at them with desperation and agony 

There are no words to fully explain

How I understand how damn simple it is

Yet the act of doing so is a far away dream. 

I’m stuck, lost and unhappy

I’m frozen, paralytic in fear 

I can’t think, even attempt to rationalise 

With the harrowing voices of anorexia. 

Just eat they say. Just drink. 

Like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

I back further into a corner, unable to begin to explain

This is the farthest thing from a choice

The power anorexia holds is too strong and I cannot refrain

From cowering down

Obeying commands

Exhausted and defeated

It’s won the war again. 

NG feeds

 Skin crawling

Stomach clenching

Thoughts racing 

Heart pounding 

Ensure filling me up to the brim

Every inch of my body screams yes

My mind screams no even louder

I'm at war with what i know i need versus

What feels so terrifying 

Someone help me

This battle is exhausting 

Help me, leave me alone

Backed into a corner, 

No place to go

Nothing feels right anymore

I’m caught in the go and fro

The argument in my head is deafeningly loud

The voice of anorexia feels like a pressure in my throat 

A paralysis in my body to do the simplest thing

Rational and logic feel like far away dreams

All I can do is find small specks of hope, and cling. 

I don’t know when food became so terrifying

The idea of nutrition scaring me more than the reality of anorexia

I don’t know when the line was crossed past the point of return 

I don’t know how to stop the fire that anorexia burns. 

Determination

 Anorexia

You snuck your claws in when I was unaware

Posing as my friend, as an aid to help me

Pretending that you really care. 

The last two years have been hard, and that’s an understatement. 

And as much as I remained resilient through the darkness 

It seems I tired, and my awareness of your tricks faltered, in fighting you I became complacent. 

You danced unto my head with sunshine and rainbows

Offering me peace from anxiety, distractions from the world and ways to cope. 

I didn’t see you, for what you were. 

My strength was wavering, and all it took was one misjudgment and 

You latched on and held me captive

Faster than I dare consider. 

I found myself at the bottom of a dark hole

Before I even realised I had tripped. 

I fear that, despite me fighting you with everything I have

Your talons and mind games have taken hold too quick. 

My head has been reorganised 

My values feel skewed 

And most worryingly

You did this to me in full view. 

I’m at a point in the crossroads where I need to pause

Try to appreciate what you have done,

And try to figure a way of reclaiming what is not yours. 

My life is so full of things that I love

Hugo, university, my family and friends, future and career…

These are what I value and I know when enough is enough, I know which way I need to steer. 

I’d be lying to say I feel strong all the time, I question is anyone does. 

And the truth of it is I feel tired. 

But here’s when I take stock and appreciate why I feel that,

And most importantly, start to navigate a way out. 

I’ve fought you for many years, a battle I wouldn’t wish in anyone

And there have been highs and lows, successes and lapses

Moments of utter joy and freedom, and some collapses. 

But most importantly, I have learnt along the way, I’ve grown and matured, and started to become someone I’m proud of

Someone away from your idea of who I should be

A fiona with fire in her belly and kindness in her voice

A fiona who is strongn, insightful, who believes in change and stands back up everytime you belittle me and try to find fault. 

I’m fighting the battle right now, and I will defeat you

I will help fiona become strong again and 

Ensure you never have a chance to play your games

I have mum and dad by my sides and

My puppies I’m holding close. 

I have my sisters and my friends and

Many many people who remind me my true purpose. 

I have a team who are fighting for me and 

I have a stubborness to succeed. 

So anorexia, you may have snuck your claws in but 

I won’t stop fighting you til I’m freed. 

Anorexia... it's not a choice

 To the people that think anorexia is a choice

Oh I wish you were right. 

I wish I could simply dip in and out of this beast however I pleased 

I wish I could live life without a doubt. 

There is no choice to this pain, 

No ache for the suffering it induces. 

Little understanding of why it chose me, or why it won’t let go

And all you think is it’s my choice, my lies or excuses. 

The pain of anorexia is far from a choice. 

Do you know what it’s like to be unable to let yourself stop? 

To stop and rest, breath and feel okay?

To attempt to sit down for a measly hour

And be consumed by anxiety more exhausting than being active, and still feel the eating disorders dismay?

Do you know what it’s like to see people around you

Eating food without a second thought. 

The jealously erupting inside of me, crying

Why cannot I just simply eat like that

Why can I not block the voice, 

Why can’t I just EAT

Why can’t I just rest

Why why why can’t I just be well. 

I'm tired

 There’s a hundred thousand million things I want to say

I want to scream, shout and cry

But my voice is muffled, my thoughts blurred

We are left in a deafening silence, no matter how hard I try.

 

I want to say i'm exhausted, exhausted of this illness and this fight

I want to say i'm so deeply ashamed, disappointed, infuriated.

I want to express how much distress I feel with myself, for not being who I wanted myself to be

I want to cower in a corner and hide away from who I am, and my reality.

 

I still don’t understand why this illness chose me,

Why it nestled into my brain all those years ago.

I’m exasperated with the strength it holds

Sometimes I feel that no matter how much I try to break free, it'll always have me, it’s power and reign

It’ll never never let go. 

 

It breaks my heart, watching the world go by

The world that both terrifies but excites me.

The world I should in part of, living, free

The world that feels like a far away dream, a distant reality. 

I am at such incongruence with myself, so far away from fiona

And her future

Disconnected from her goals, dreams and hopes

Seemingly lost in a vortex of meaningless numbers, rituals and pain

Wondering why and how I’ve fallen so hard, 

In a worser place than I’d ever dare disclose. 

I never wanted this, any of it

I am so tired of being so stuck in this war

I’m tired of fighting, pleading and begging this illness to let me go

I just want it to be over.