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. 

We are the paradoxes- poem

We have stripped rooms

But full minds 

We rattle when we walk

With full medication charts 

We hear voices so loud

Yet ours are so hushed 

Voices dampened with bad experiences

We are withdrawn, afar, hold mistrust. 

We are the silent sufferers 

But can’t stay quiet for long

We are the quietest of them all

Until we hit breaking point. 

We are the shaken cans of soda

The pressure cookers hitting their limit

We are the victims of this cruel evil illness

 We are the puzzles with pieces that don’t fit. 

We are the compassionate yet self abusive

We value honesty and trust 

And yet have said every single array of lies and excuses. 

We are the numbers to the government 

Being told to value ourselves as people 

We live in a violent paradox 

Where merely surviving feels unmanageable. 

With the soul of a five year old, but the bones of an eighty year old. 

We are the trapped, 

Searching for freedom

In an illness that comes with the biggest catch of all.  

To be free and happy and seemingly ‘okay’ 

You have to surrender your soul.