starving - zoe frenchman

i didn’t realize that i was starving at first;

even when i was at my worst;

i didn’t realize that i had become completely immersed;

in the deep sea of restriction, obsession, and fear;

and i denied the brutal reality that my death was near;

at this point in my life;

a time filled with overall conflict and strife;

if my self-inflicted internal damage got any worse;

then i would be lying dead in a hearse;

and i would have succumbed to the fatal curse;

of this petrifying disease that is extremely perverse;

and will always be a factor that remains adverse;

and hinders my progress in a way that’s diverse;

and my deepest wounds were a whole war to reverse;

the initial downfall involved heavy denial;

and that denial lasted for a good while;

until i was on the border of life and death;

and i had to be threatened that i’d take my last breath;

if i didn’t make a significant change in my ways;

and i would never get the mere chance to see better days;

and that i would lose any possibility to see;

all that life has in store for me;

if i had perished at the age of sixteen;

then i would have never seen;

the beautiful, mundane, treacherous, or obscene;

and every wonderful, little thing in between;

and my future would have been obsolete;

and i would have surrendered in utter defeat;

my journey towards health is still far from complete;

this disorder has a palpable and unfair conceit;

this mental hell has a discernible heat;

it’s unfair that i was chosen to sit in this seat;

the seat filled depression, fixation, insecurity, and deceit;

and i hope the day comes when i don’t worry about every single morsel of food that i eat;

i obsess over my appearance and count every flaw;

my body so cold that it’s forced to thaw;

i feel so physically weak that i stumble around;

and i’m feeling so agitated and tightly wound;

the lack of nutrition has affected me deeply;

and that impact has manifested within me comprehensively;

i wish the frustration, dread, doubt, conflict, and pain;

was simply easier to explain;

this debilitating illness is exceedingly convoluted;

causing my mind to be entirely polluted;

and though i’m pessimistic, i hope the day comes around;

that the disease that i possess transforms into a profound;

collection of wisdom, experience, articulation, expression;

and liberation from my constant need to distrust or question;

my knowledge, strengths, and positive traits;

and a whole world of freedom from the restriction awaits;

i aspire to at least move in that direction;

the direction of acceptance of my own reflection;

and at least have a civil self-connection;

my mind moves back-and-forth so extremely;

the complexity of the illness can be illustrated violently;

so the only way that i can honestly end this;

is to say that eating disorders are nothing to dismiss;

but in all honesty, i’m not at a point within my own healing;

that i can provide a conclusion that’s collectively satisfying or appealing;

my journey has gone on for many years;

through so many fiascos and a torrent of tears;

and yet i still can’t seem to relax for my own sake;

starvation can push you until you completely break.