I have
struggled with food for as long as I can remember. As a child, I struggled with
binge eating and when I started University, I developed bulimia non-purging. The
hardest part of having an eating disorder is telling people. After I developed
bulimia, I felt like I needed to. I did not want to be invited out to eat. I
did not want to talk about food, dieting, weight and exercise. For many people,
these are topics that you do not bat an eyelid about – therefore, asking people
“please can we not talk about x” felt unreasonable.
I struggled
with explaining my eating disorder to other people. Many people found it hard
to imagine me restricting or excessively exercising as I was always at a
“healthy” or overweight BMI. People did not to grasp that my eating disorder is
less about food and how I looked, but more about control and trauma. It is
completely understandable – it is hard to picture something that you have not experienced.
Still, I sometimes felt a bit misunderstood, weird and isolated.
One of the ways
that I can explore my issues around food is through poetry. I seem to perfectly
sum up how I feel where spoken words fail me. This is the first poem that I
wrote about my issues around food. I wrote it at around the age of sixteen
reflecting back on my childhood experience with binge eating.
I am
obviously FINE!
Not a care
in the world.
After all, I
am smiling,
laughing
hysterically, joking
and quite
literally bouncing around,
putting on a
good show for the crowd.
Act over,
curtains closed
and in the
darkness,
I wipe off
my smile because secretly,
I am dying.
In silence. Within.
My mind
wages war persistently –
it demands
‘MORE, MORE, MORE!”
and like a
servant, I oblige.
I reason –
or rather more, I don’t –
that I can
fill the deep dark hole
residing in
me with food
But it’s no
good; I never feel whole
because I’m
perpetually starving! Craving
a
self-acceptance, respect and unconditional love
that can
never come from food
and that I
can never muster enough of
No comments:
Post a Comment