Imagine being trapped in a bubble under water, being afraid that it could burst any minute and you will drown. That’s one way to describe the state that people with Eating Disorders are in, at least it was how I felt. I wanted to share my story with you, on how I got sick, how I felt while I was sick and how I recovered…
Here! the poet’s immortal spirit take.
Though long I have betrayed its inner voice,
And wrote, instead, of love, indeed of choice.
I preached the lie of joy. And though I wake
At night to dreams so horrible they make
Me scream for mercy to a God whose Joys
I shall not ever know; could I rejoice
In some God’s misery for His own sake?
I criticized that fool; yet I am he.
The very fool who lives with naught but grief.
My shallow, poet’s soul shall always be
A measure of society’s belief.
I’ve fought this ugly truth to my last breath;
With nothing to look forward to, save death.
This is where I’ve been
But not where I find I am.
Lost, but now I’m found.
Can I look, can I listen, can I speak?
Can I stop, can I walk, or can I run?
Can I fetch, can I put, or am I done?
Can I drop, can I gather, may I seek?
Will I lead, will I later, will I sneak?
Will I first, will I last, or will I shun?
Will I few, will I lots, or have I none?
Will I feed, will I wallow, am I bleak?
Must I find, must I forfeit, must I do?
Must I know, must I guess, or must I now?
Must I brave, must I cower, should I bow?
Must I glow, must I grimace, am I blue?
If I may, am I dower, did I stray?
Can I pray, for more hours, in the day?