& When I am the happiest,
when things work out so well,
when I am praising God in overwhelming humbleness,
I am struck.
My clothes don't fit,
I wasn't even trying,
but I lost all the weight I worked so hard to gain.
It is hard to recover when your body won't.
The over sized clothes is a trigger,
my mind is so wired to starve.
I accidentally look for ways to get out of meals,
lie without thinking of what I'm doing,
my appetite is non-existent.
You may think that's a silly excuse,
but my body works off of appetite.
I have to have a taste or a craving,
I can't eat things I'm not in the mood for or don't like,
I seriously can't,
I throw up impulsively.
& now,
in the midst of my happiness,
I am struck.
The worst part is, it is all my own,
something I consider private,
an issue I don't like to burden anyone with.
I feel it stronger day to day.
I keep praying if I work hard enough it will go away.
I still eat,
but it's my mind set I feel slipping.
The way I feel when I look into the mirror,
the moment of evil happiness that surges through me when my clothes are too big,
the smile I get when people say how tiny I am,
the way I dread to eat around crowds of people,
how anxiety overwhelms me when those crowds of people talk about my eating habits,
the control I feel when I train my body to handle skipping a meal.
I don't want to change,
but I feel it.
I speak in faith that I will never become the monster I was,
I will never hurt so many people,
I will never reject such a giving God,
I will never kill myself in such a slow and painful manner for everyone to watch,
I will never be that alone again.
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(Sorry for the language on the following pic)
