Is this part-time recovery?
Anorexia....
Nervosa...
I don't know....
Am I sick?
Really sick?
Is this just a flirtation.
Or an affair,
something dirty and cheap.
Something that can't survive daylight,
something sad,
something weak
pathetic.
Below me.
I cling to the few things that let me tell you I'm fine.
Balancing my life to keep it from changing.
A little meal,
a little cut,
a little lie,
and I'm fine.
Cause I love you and I try to be good. I try hard.
Keep it at bay.
Under control.
An armslenght away.
And I need it. Without I'm lost, without I don't understand the hows, the living, the days.
So I have it here with me.
To fall back on.
Just in case.
And then I fall, not that far, not that hard.
It's just that everyday falling.
So I give it a little room,
allow it to rule a part of me,
to win a little, not a lot, just a little.
It's true, you know?
I'm not sure you do.
I only give a little, I fight a lot. I could do so much worse than this.
And I parade my arguments in front of me. Look at me, can't you see I'm fine?
This is just how I look, nothing wrong.
NOTHING
I'm having my period, doesn't that tell you I'm fine?
Didn't you see that chocholate I ate?
Can't you see how bubbly and full of energy I am?
You hold me....
I'm shaking....
So cold....
And I tell you I don't know why I feel this bad, why those spots dance infront of my eyes, why I cant' stand up right now. Maybe I'm coming down with something.
I make people cry...
I am sorry...
So I balance here.
Forever living in the in-between.
This place that lets me be both and none of the things I want.
Well and sick, strong and weak, unhealthy.
If I knew the way out I would take it, I promise, I would, really I would.
Maybe I would.....
I don't want to live in this limbo, this borderland, this half-awake world of changing minds.
If I knew how, I would choose right.
For me, for you.
I do, you know?
Make the right choice.
Choose breakfast, choose hope, choose right.
Sometimes.....
This makes me so tired, I'm sick of that.
I'm angry, I'm sad and I want that to stop.
Give back the person I should be, to me, to you.
Someday it will happen, it must.
I can't play these games much longer, they wear me out.
The me that fights it must win sometime.
There are no other options.
And when that day comes, I'll tell you everything and hope you still want me.
And you will. You tell me all the time,
I believe you.
I trust you.
And maybe I'll be strong and well and capable of living as I should.
And maybe I'll never feel like this again.
But until then, know that I try.
Know that this is ME fighting, not ME giving in.
And that I love you.....
Always
Always
Always