ADHD Dribblings: Poems & Thoughts From A Mind Lost In Motion

Waisted Lines

Isn't it wild that I was struggling to accept my body in each of these photos,
Except the first one, where my body was so clearly struggling to accept me?

In the first photo, I remember
women would grab my waist in envy
and compliment me on how I was so tiny.

And I was! I was tiny,
And everything fit!
With a waistline like this,
Nothing would split.

Clothes didn't grip me
Or grasp me uncomfortably.
Or take hours to find
What draped more correctly.

I was small, medium,
and sometimes still large.
Once, thought by mistake,
I was even extra small.

I didn't see it then,
but I do see it now.
I was unwell.
It stood out of the crowd.

The women who ensnared me
with all of their praise,
I tried to escape,
Frantic in my daze.

Their fingers twisted and pinched,
As if fans snuck backstage,
Unaware how my heart struggled
to beat outside its own cage.

It closed in on itself
and my lungs fought to stay.
Gave way my knees,
so on the ground I remained.

I tried to gain, since I knew
something wasn't quite right.
But I sabotaged my chances
On each given night.

I fought with myself
to prioritize my health.
To find time in the workday,
To save my body from hell.

My fatigue kept on growing,
But it always existed.
I took medications,
To prevent it from spreading.

These meds crumble appetites,
But I'd take only one.
Swallowed pills so I'd work,
And turn binge eater at home.

I tried several tricks.
Hiding protein in drinks,
Changed positions to rest,
But continued to shrink.

These drugs how they work!
But they make you quite thirsty,
so hidden hungers I quenched
with meals no one could see.

Or tried to, at least.
I spent all the day trying.
Lost in my work,
I forgot I was dying.

When I reached my third pic
and busted through all my jeans,
I fell down again
and begged doctors for fees.

They shrugged me off
and collected their paychecks.
When they watched, my heart
didn't flutter or skip or forget.

They patted my head, said
I was young, so don't bother.
That maybe my syncope would
reduce with a son and a father.

Gain weight, procreate,
it is most women's answer.
...Or they grew tired
of their questions unanswered.

Maybe they're weary,
but have no time for self-healing.
Maybe they keep walking
like heroes to bitter endings.

For now, they had children
who needed the visit.
Who cares if mothers are upright
to these independents?

They no longer need her.
She did her job.
Got them their degrees,
As she hides how she falls.

So I tried once again
to heed their advice.
But this time the world fell ill.
A break? Oh, how nice!

That's when the gaining
was no longer a skill.
Hiding from a virus,
All lives became still.

I ate as before,
too little I'm sure.
Quality improved,
but my body still needed more?

More of what? I won't ask.
The bills are increasing.
Maybe water and salt
can settle this beating.

Here I will sit,
and here I will stay.
Unable to run,
Unable to play.

I wait now with you
while the world still grows sicker.
If you cared unlike before,
this might've passed a bit quicker.

You grow restless and shout,
And I say we'll be fine.
The floor isn't so bad!
I have you here this time.

But then you rise up,
Steered towards silver linings.
While I sit in your wake,
Rippling waisted and pining.

It's easy to gain
And sink further in wells.
I'd ask for your hand,
But you helped push me down.

I'll claw at the walls,
Pull myself to my feet.
Fight with my insides,
And struggle to eat.

Self talks in the mirror
Compare and contrast
These waists thin and trapped
Wasted lines on their straps.

24 you became.
Measure twice to be sure.
24 you were then,
Now 32 on the floor.

But still you reside
Within a "healthy" waistline.
I see your ribs breathing,
Pace quick in their climb.

You look awfully well!
But my looks still deceive you.
If they should kill,
I think it'd be me first.

If I refuse your applause,
it's not insecurity;
but out of unwellness.
I know me, see through me.

I don't want your comments.
I don't want your answers.
I want me to want me,
and know that I answered.

My health, how it fumbles!
How I'll stumble and fall,
But I'll look to myself
To answer my call.

We are built different,
I know more than you'll see.
I still feel quite strong,
Even down on one knee.

I have learned many lessons
Through ailed body's acceptance.
Through catching my breath,
I've gained independence.

That though grounded daily,
I don't feel held down.
I feel a bit lighter,
As I grow on the ground.

Some days I crack up
Filled with my mirth
At how close I've become
To becoming one with the earth.

A thought once invited,
I now fight against.
Irony not lost,
In my humor's repents.

There are more like me
Who can laugh on our floors.
Telling fables of ables,
As we talk on all fours.

And while we all, each our own,
Punch new notches in belts,
These lines won't be waisted,
If our hearts you have felt.

We see a bit differently,
Looking down, looking up,
But still in each view
We're betrayed by our gut.

I'll help you down,
If you help me up.
You may find that the ground,
Might quiet your thoughts.

You count all your lines,
I'll match mine's skipping rhythm.
We'll write music about
Our insides misgivings.

Your body won't glisten,
Mine simply won't listen.
But if we sing out to a crowd
They might hear us somehow.

So let's sing on our floors,
And sing behind doors,
And sing to our screens,
Sing til we scream.

These waisted lines
Aren't just wasted
Between you and me.

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9/27/21