Monday, April 13, 2020

the stumble

set-off

It was innocent
She, I, veered at photos
Photos from long ago
Barely a woman staring back

Dead eyes
No smile

I remember the time as a blur
That dress
The scale
The tube

Haunting images
Skin and bones

Yet, as miserable as I was
I want her back
Not the person
Just the body

Unfair
To ask

Now I sit in tears
Refusing who I am;
A sister, poet, and friend
Someone in recovery

Toss me?
Keep her?

There is no place where we collide
It's me or her
You see?
I know

And, thus begins
The fight again


Friday, April 10, 2020

the scale: revision

You are below me
Like an ant to a tree branch
You are physically on the ground
My mind conjours this up: to get even I must now down
I intently focus on whatever number you spit out
It means nothing to you which I cannot fathom
Years of my life I worshipped
That definition of my worth
I cried, begged, and pleaded you to change your mind about me
Lost in a losing game
Now, here is a reality check
You define gravity
But certainly not me

box: revision

She confined me in a box.
Now I, her.
We are not even though.
She stole a piece of my soul.
Like a thief in the night.
I want it back.
Unfortunately, there is no way.
I instead have to regrow.
What I now lack I will not quite ever have back.
She has not won.
She's equipped with words but no gun.
I will grow and flourish.
A brand new me.
Whole, yet new.
Green to the world.
Afresh.
A box with a pretty now no more.

Sunday, April 5, 2020

exhaustion-2020

Mother Earth became weary
From pollution and noise
She sent forth a virus
To vacate her lands

The virus grew
Causing people to fear
Mother Earth rested
As the people dropped tears

From the grounds sprang spring
Signs of new life
While living stayed
Mostly cooped inside

As Mother Earth regenerated
People realized their gratitude's
Zoom became of high demand
In place of a hug

No one shall know
What happens in the future
But Mother Earth
Got her well deserved rest

And, people?
They got to understand
That they need people
Connection

And, the Earth

Friday, March 6, 2020

mirror, mirror

Before I really dig into this topic, first a few basics. What even is body image? "Body image is the perception that a person has of their physical self and the thoughts and feelings that result from that perception" (psychalive). Body image can be further broken down into four categories: 1. Perceptual, 2. Affective, 3. Cognitive, and 4. Behavioral. Body image is emotional- a perception tied to feelings. Not just what we see in the mirror, or what we think we see.
Negative body image has been my experience my whole life that I can remember. Even before the development of my eating disorder. In my experience body image was impacted by several factors. I grew up a dancer. As such, i was surrounded by mirrors and minimal clothing. I had teachers who would poke me and tell me to "hold it in". In other regards, I had older sisters who were seemingly always getting beach ready and a mother who greatly struggled with body image herself. Not to mention the objectification that came from years of sexual abuse. 
For me, body image takes place in two forms: one is the perception of how I see my body and one is the ideal I want my body to be. "Want" is the wrong word here, the way I think my body "should" be. The first image is inaccurate as it does not line up with what others say they see, my health, or what my body can do. The "ideal" image is more emaciated than I ever was even in the depths of anorexia. Both are linked to thoughts and feelings.
Our culture is slowly beginning to shift away from the "norm" and into reality. We look to people like Demi Levato and Kesha who are survivors. We hear about positive body image movements and embracing our bodies. We see resources that weren't there before.
How do we gain positive body image and what is it? Basically, positive body image is when a person has an accurate perception of his physical self and is confident in his body regardless of societal standards. Someone with positive body image is able to separate his physical self from who he is as a person. Seek out resources in the media. For the love of your higher power, stop clicking that diet article link that will ultimately make you feel like crap, do some yoga, be smart, think positive. Know you are not your body. And know, you are not a number.

Saturday, February 1, 2020

two boxes

Two sisters I know deeply. 
They have been placed in boxes. As if a box could contain them. 
They prefer the mind as a home.
One of the boxes is shiny and alluring like a picturesque sunset.
The other faded, often hidden as a secret fueled by shame.

Both sisters make promises they cannot possibly uphold. "Do as I say, I will make you happy."
Meet them with great warning:

Your soul they will keep.

Some view the girls as best friends. Others, foes. 
I say they're monsters of the mind.
Presented in two boxes. 
The sisters will fool you. Though, in different ways. 
Each convincing you her way is the answer to every question. 

The poison you choose to consume has little to do with how well you play the game.
The key is not what you are consuming.
But, how consumed you are by one or both of their wits. 

Once opened, almost impossible to close. 
I've met the girl, the monster, in each box. And, consequently been put in boxes myself.
The outter box may morph. 
The inner pain, deep rooted, remains the same.
So, I ask:
"Which one will you listen to?"
Shiny or dull?
It matters not.

I've entrusted my life to both sisters. 
Yet, I still stand today.
On the path where pride wrestles shame.
I walk.
A little bit more hesitant each day. Though questions come up. Confidence in them I do not lack.

They play two different games. With two sets of rules. 
The cost to play and win is life.
Stay away from the boxes. 
Without warning the sisters will bite. 
You'll be playing a game of life and death. 
Once the lid is off. 

Two boxes there are. Which come in many forms . 
Disguised as shiny and ideal, dull and weak.
Somewhere in between the spectrum you may fall. 
Do not cram yourself in a box.
Please hear this warning:

Beware my dear.