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Eleanor Apr 2020
"Even today, I have a lot of trouble figuring out if I’m hungry or not. I often can’t tell until I’m starving. I don’t trust those little inklings of hunger I have before the starving stage, since anything outside of mealtime is supposed to be quelled by a ******* piece of fruit.

Over time, [I was taught] that I should decide what to eat with my brain, not my stomach. So eventually, my stomach just gave up."
Read full article at: https://everydayfeminism.com/2016/09/parents-taught-disordered-eating/
slr Apr 2020
when i told you the only thing i could keep down was chocolate milk,
you said get over it

when i said i hated eating
you said "well you can't be anorexic because you aren't 'gross skinny'"

when i tell you these things it is a cry for help
please hear me
i'm struggling again
Elisabeth Mar 2020
I sit in the shower, wishing for my brain to work the way it should.
I sit in the shower and let the water beat against my face, hoping that will drown out my thoughts and insecurities.
I sit in the shower and cry because I know no one will hear me.
I sit in the shower and question my importance here.
I sit in the shower and gag myself while I sob quietly.
I sit in the shower and take apart razor blades and let them dance across my wrists so that I will stop numbly staring at the shower wall.
I sit in the shower and wonder, if I should really be here tomorrow.
So, how do I tell my friends I sit in the shower?
Sydney Mar 2020
I'm hungry but I don't want to eat
I'm weak
  or fat
  or both
Judgment
   from me and others
But I don't know what they're thinking
I assume
I assume they think
   I'm gross
   and fat
   and lazy
I could just be healthy
I could exercise more
Or eat fewer carbs and more protein
But I guess
   I am lazy
because I'd rather just stop eating
I know it's bad
I know it's dangerous
But my brain and my insecurity don't communicate
I'm insecure
       lazy
       gross
       unhealthy
       FAT
I guess this is just a reflection of the thoughts I've had in the past. If you are going through this please tell someone I went through it alone and it was really difficult.
me Feb 2020
i put my pen to paper
and try to conjure beauty
but there's nothing beautiful
about yellow teeth
nothing beautiful
about your stomach groaning
in large groups
about falling asleep starving
about eating tissue paper
to stop feeling hungry
nothing beautiful
about looking at an apple and seeing
60 or half an hour of push ups
and not a ******* apple
nothing beautiful
about bleeding knuckles
and pounding heads
about ***** in whatever
hair is left because
it's all on your bathroom floor
about light fur growing on your arms and legs
grown by your body to keep you warm
nothing beautiful
about feeling dizzy, always
about fainting on the treadmill
and getting a rugburn on your face
from the pressure
nothing beautiful
about tubes in your nose
feeding you sugar water
about sharp ankles on cold scales
about needles in arms
about shaking uncontrollably
nothing beautiful
about cold.

and there's nothing beautiful about death.
i hate the stigma that anorexia is beautiful, especially in pro anorexia communities. its not. its hell. i always try and make my illnesses into beautiful poetry but we need to realize that there really is nothing beautiful about this illness
Asominate Feb 2020
Honey to my eyes,
Liquor for the soul.
The chicken soup has lost its taste,
The peas porridge lies cold.
Skin stretched across the ribcage,
Brains rid of juices; lotion:
Twas a death so dramatic
She died in slow motion.
Dam you, anorexia!
Ellie Grace Feb 2020
There are holes in my memory,
missing pieces of time
claimed by malnutrition.

It is a bitter pill to swallow,
knowing that my own actions
had such severe consequences.
Knowing that I so wholeheartedly believed
that what I was doing was right,
that it was what I deserved.

Losing pieces of myself
to an identity that did not belong to me.
A girl is not supposed to be a disorder
becoming nothing more than an illness personified.
isla Feb 2020
it hurts
the cliche “eternal ache” in my bones
it spreads
a strange hollowness
a dull pain
a small price to pay for the continuance of this disease i once asked for
it never occurred to me that i could reach this stage
lightheadedness
low heart rate
bruises upon bruises upon bruises
i thought there was no way to concentrate any less than i already did until this
it seems as if i’ve forgotten whole years of my life
ask me about a year and i’ll remember that’s when i tried to **** myself
but wait was that really 2016?  
or was it 2018?
it might’ve been both
i remember in 2019 i had the most traumatic argument of my life
i moved a lot
2018 i was severely depressed
did 2017 even happen?
essentially, i don’t know
i never know
i didn’t know i would lose my train of thought a few words into speaking
that when i ramble i wouldn’t be aware of what i was saying
who knew someone’s chest could clench so much when reading a nutrition label?
that a few grams of sugar was enough to make me put down my favorite food
my feet, on and off the scale, every morning at 5
my hands, measuring my wrists and how far up my arm i can wrap my fingers
my fat, fat fingers
my schedule
unintentionally planned
daily morning bagel, half peanut butter for protein, half cream cheese for enjoyment
no lunch
never lunch
no snacks
a fourth of what’s served for dinner at his house
the max is half
talk, put the fork down, drink water
constant thoughts
constant rules
constant fear
i didn’t know this would be a consequence
i didn’t think this would happen to me
no one does
the ache continues to spread
until i am enveloped
and i know
i can no longer escape
sumthin i wrote in class instead of listening because the hunger pains were worse than normal. a chaotic neutral poem
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