I'm not yours anymore.

This is for that thing the doctors call Eating Disorder
                Anorexia Nervosa
That voice that pretends to be your friend
And promises to be with you till the very end
 
It lurks inside the pages of a magazine
Airbrushed dolls and fake promises
That make you feel inferior, less than you are

…LESS than perfect.

 
It hides in the fairytales we were promised in our youth
That one day all of the hurt we have gone through
Would lead us to a Happily Ever After

…but then they told us to grow up

 
It waits for the times that you’ve fallen short
The could-have-been’s, should-have

…tried harder

 
This thing, this voice,     this LIE
Tells us that if we obey
All of the pain will go away
 
It told me I could be perfect
And worthy of love… if I listened
Then it told me I was dirty
And worthless and less than.
 
It told me that it could help me
It came in and filled the spaces left empty
As long as it was mine… or maybe I was it’s
Those empty spaces and broken pieces
Didn’t seem to matter anymore
 
Each day grew worse as I grew thinner
It told me that I was only as good as a number
 
I’d look in the mirror,
Salty water rushed down my face
Because it told me I was a fat and ugly disgrace
I took up too much space.
 
This selfish monster told me
That God didn’t care enough to finish when he made me
And that all of the imperfections it found
Were there BECAUSE I was too ruined
Too bad to be completed
 
Like one of those countless projects started

And then discarded

Instead of loving every curve
Every, lump, every freckle, every scar
Every tear and every silly laugh
Instead of loving the feelings I get
When I rest my delicate fingers on my heart
And feel the life beat on inside me

…even when it feels like I’ve turned to stone

Instead of LOVING all that I’ve loved
And believing that I matter…
 
I was told to run away
And be anywhere but the body I was trapped in
 
What’s saddest of all,
Is that I am and I was never alone
Teens, adults, mothers, sisters
Grandmothers, daughters, wives, friends…
CHILDREN…
Little girls in grade school
Are learning to hate their bodies
And even hate the person on the inside
As well as the God that so carefully made them
Everyone is striving to be someone else
No one believes they are beautiful anymore
It’s tragic.
What are we willing to do to change?
Diseases take so many too soon
But this disease doesn’t have to.
 
It doesn’t deserve those spaces inside me
That are patiently waiting for good things to fill
It doesn’t deserve a seat at the table
After all, who is paying the bill?
It doesn’t deserve to write on my body
With a few sharp blades and some diet pills
I can’t say that Anorexia will never show its ugly face

It will come sometimes…

In the magazines, the fairytales, and the times we fall

Just to remind me of where I came from
And that I never want to go back.
 
Without me to call its own
This monster has one less prey
Life has more meaning than words on stone
“I’m sorry it ended this way”
Without me to fill it’s need
There is one more life that got away
 
Because I have plans
Plans to finally be heard
Plans to help those who are insecure
Because of whatever voices are talking to them
I’ve been there, I’ve heard it too
But I am done listening to you.
You, “ana,”  are not allowed here
You pretended to be my friend
Then my life, you tried to end
 
I am greater than you
I am stronger than the web of lies you’ve spun
You are just a thought
Your time has come and gone
                                                                               
You made food the enemy
You made me hate myself
I am done with you
I have better things to do.

On Religion

Lord I lift Your name on High
Lord I love to sing Your praises
I'm so glad You're in my life
I'm so glad You came to save us
You came from Heaven to Earth to show the way
From the Earth to the cross, my debt to pay
From the cross to the grave, from the grave to the sky
Lord I lift your name on High

When I was younger I was taught that there was a God who was always watching over me, everything I did, everything I thought, even the things I didn't know about... He did.  I believed with all my heart, I laid in my bed every night and imagined the ceiling opening up and seeing the dark sky painted with stars, I closed my eyes and thought of all I wanted God to know so He could hear me.  I praised Him for being there for so many people.  "Dear God, are you listening?  I need your help; You see there is a lot going on down here on Earth, the world seems to be falling apart.  I want to pray for peace, God.  Can you help?  I know you are up there with all of the Angels, can you send one to watch over me?"  Then I thought of my Grandmother, who was an Angel before I was born, I said, "Grandma, if you can hear me, will you be my Guardian Angel if God is too busy?"

I don't know how, but at some point I gave up.  My nights turned into me running emergency drills in my head and sleeping with a baseball bat and my dearest possessions, Special Bear.  Just in case there was a robbery or a kidnapping or a fire... I was 8 when I started worrying about these things.

Bad things kept happening, I prayed but I didn't believe anymore; I didn't believe that a "God" would have a "perfect plan" for a little girl to see a world the way she did.  'He's not there, He doesn't care about me, He left me alone.'  Then I became angry, but I was never given the chance to be angry at the people who hurt me, no, I let them take all of my power; I turned that anger into hate- self hate.  "Why would God (if He really exists) do this to me?  Why would He do this... I must be bad.  I must deserve this.  I must be punished."  I tried to take control of something so I controlled the dirty, rotten, bad feelings inside me.  I thought I could be clean if I didn't put bad things in me... bad things, bad things like food.

Now why would a religion make someone feel so inferior?  When God forgot about me I felt like I was nothing, like I wasn't even human because "Jesus LOVES the little children, all the children of the world."  But Jesus didn't love me enough to keep me safe, so therefore...  This THING that is meant to give people hope and healing was making me feel worthless. Jesus died on the cross for our sins "Please God, forgive them, for they know not what they've done."  I didn't want to forgive because to me that meant forgetting and I wouldn't let that happen.  Why have these horrible things been forgiven, justified?  It just doesn't seem right.  I felt betrayed and invalidated by the very POWER that was supposed to save me.

Years past of thinking and feeling like this.  Several miserable years.  Still sometimes I couldn't handle Earth on my own and I cried for help... nothing.  A few weeks ago my psychiatrist wanted me to try a "Christian Renewal" Eating Disorders program.  I laughed and said "no" I refused.  A week past and I saw her again even more dead than I was before, she sat in her office with me for well over an hour as I built up the courage to call.  I was being admitted the next day.  When I got there I was set on not changing.  The Eating Disorder had filled the holes that were left when God forgot me.  The Eating Disorder was always there... but it wanted to kill me.  There was chapel morning and evening, 7 days a week.  The first several days I stayed in my room, then one morning my therapist came up and said that she thought I should go, so I walked that direction and sat in the hall and listened.  The Chaplin was talking about how "God loves you no matter what, and He has always been there, He has felt your pain and taken your pain for you." I thought and thought and thought... I thought that something had to change or I was going to die.  So that night I walked in and sat in the back, I allowed myself to take it all in.  I kept going, thinking that if I try hard enough to believe than a miracle will happen.  I'll get better.

One day the Chaplin preached about how you have to have FAITH, you have to believe with your heart that He will heal you and you will be healed.  I spent my second weekend there in the chapel just thinking, trying to make amends and put the pieces back together.  I thought I was making progress and that God really was with me all along, because if he wasn't, than I would surely be dead.  Much worse could have happened, maybe those things happened because people have free-will.  Maybe He has a purpose for me and I had to know what it felt like to be there so that I could help someone else.  I believed and I cried and I prayed and asked for forgiveness because I just wanted to be at peace.  Then Monday came and we got a call from the Insurance company that I was being kicked out that Friday.  Why?  Sabotage.  This is my LIFE, this is not a game of cards.  How could you kick me out of the hospital?  Every time... everytime.

I don't know why but I kept walking into chapel every day and every night.  I worked so hard to be ready to leave early.  All of those fears of abandonment were resurfacing, but the Chaplin told me that God wanted me to forgive the past... look forward, because living in the past is like driving a car backwards; that is not what cars are made for. 

Here I am, day one of my New Beginning.  It's been rough, but I know that it will be worth it.  I have a purpose, and that purpose is not to be fertilizer. 

What I learned

A few weeks ago, maybe a month ago I went "off the deep end."  I fell into the eating disorder harder and faster than I ever have.  Everything came back and completely took control of my life.  All of the bad memories, impulses, self-destruction, self-hate- it was all louder than ever.  I don't know how I managed to fall so hard so fast, and I don't think I really expected it either, but for a solid week at least I was convinced I wouldn't make it to see another sunrise or sunset.  I had been convinced by these voices inside my head that food was toxic and food wanted to kill me.  I was sure that this place called Earth wasn't for me and that I should run away and never return.  I almost did.  My psych, PCP, and therapist were very worried but I refused to open my eyes and see it.  They asked me to go to Brookhaven several times and I kept saying "no."  I had heard things about Brookhaven... not good things.  The eating disorder program is 21 days, "that is not enough to change me; I'll never get better in 21 days."  Friday, August 9th, after every other option was exhausted and I was sure I was as good as gone I drove myself to Brookhaven and checked myself in.  I walked past the Behavioral Health patients, drug addicts, suicidal, homicidal, hallucinatory, schizophrenic, alcoholic, depressed... I thought, "did they send me to the wrong floor?"  I was terrified.  The first thing they did after checking me in was stick a feeding tube up my nose.  Then they left me in my room to cry for hours until I fell asleep.  The weekend was awful, I didn't eat or really go to groups.  I was going through diet pill detox so I slept most of the time.  Finally Monday came and things started to make sense.  My brain started thinking right thanks to the liter of Ensure Plus they were giving me every night through my tube.  I got to know the two other girls that were there for the eating disorder program.  We became sisters very quickly.  Then I met the therapist Vickie, and the dietician Valerie... They helped me grow so much and learn so much about myself.  Vickie knew what she was talking about and she knew what was going on inside my mind, she could be so serious and loving and supportive, and she was also comical and graceful and trustworthy.  She helped me get my power back.
Food doesn't deserve my power
The number on the scale doesn't deserve my power
The people who have hurt me do not deserve my power
The past does not define me
I am more than an eating disorder; than a number; than a disease; than a label
I am worthy of living a life without those voices that tell me I can't
I have good qualities
I have dreams and ambitions
I want to be a play therapist
That scale won't get me anywhere but dead.  Then the people who need me will be cheated by this disease.
After 14 days my insurance refused to pay so I had to leave.  I feel like they sabotaged me because I was getting better but I was convinced that three weeks wouldn't save me, so how would two weeks?  I begged to stay, this place that I didn't want to ever go to was changing my life, and then I was being kicked out.  I found out 5 days before discharge that I was leaving early.  I had to complete two weeks of work in one week of time.  My tube feedings were moved to the day so I could be supervised because I was messing with it at night.  The tube was pulled out two days before discharge and I had to drink the liter of Ensure Plus orally.  Now that I'm home I can't afford that, that is four cans a day and 6 cans is about $12.  I spent $130 on groceries and protein supplements today.  I have never even spent half that much on groceries.  I'm really scared I won't be able to keep this up though.  This morning I woke up and thought, "it would be so easy to go back to ed today..." I want to make it until I see my therapist on Monday though, and I know that Vickie and Valerie are rooting for me.  It sucks that I had bonded so much with them and now I never get to see them again.  I didn't even get three weeks.  Just another slap in the face.  But Vickie told me to eat a piece of pineapple upside down cake at 5 o'clock on September 3rd and she will be eating one too in celebration of my 21st birthday.  She said she will never forget me... I cried as I walked out the doors and looked back on this place that gave me another chance to live in just two weeks.  I see my psych on September 4th and the first thing I'm going to go is say "thank you" and give her a hug.  I thought she was crazy when she said "Brookhaven" but I was crazy for not trusting her.