A Skeleton in the Closet

By: Deborah Parry-Jones
Written at the doorway between hell and death about 20 years ago: NOW happy and healthy, married and blessed with 2 children. THERE IS HOPE(??)


The ultimate goal of thinness is one that is never met; "I'll stop when I lose just X more pounds", becomes "I'm not nearly thin enough yet." Well meaning friends say "Oh just eat -- you have nothing to fear!" I push them away, they don't understand. Now all I can trust is my mirror.

"Their World" is one in which I yearn to belong, yet I linger outside, scared to go in. I can't let them see me, for fear they'll reject me. I hide by being thin.

So much in life is out of my control, I feel no sense of power. But I am strong, life can't beat me -- For I've just run for an hour!

Little by little my self-imposed prison protects me with yet stronger bars. Inside my mind fights a battle, and my body bares the scars. A skeletal frame too weak to stand, looks stronger through my eyes. On I fight but my body knows what my mind denies.

If I were to die would people know what I was struggling to say? Would they remember me, or what my casket would weigh?

I'm all alone, there's no one here but someone I don't know. A skeleton, in a closet, afraid to live and grow.

I must fight, must take control, but not destructively. Is there someone else inside? A stronger, healthy me?

I want to live, I want to grow, To open the closet door. Can I remove the sketal armor and escape a winnerless war?

WOW is all I have to say. I am glad to hear this woman has recovered and now has a life free of this hell.

Sometimes I wonder if there is a possibility for me to recover...so far it has only been worse and worse. I just live life one day at a time, or else I would surely go crazy(crazier!!!)

Love,
Dara