A DISSOCIATIVE EPISODE
"We're going out for pancakes today,
Please be ready to leave in 15 minutes."
Pancakes.
91 calories, 35 from fat*
*Does not include butter or syrup.
A disk of pan-fried sugar and fat.
Sugar and fat make me panic,
Like a mother that loses sight
Of her child in a crowded room.
Heart racing. Sweaty palms. Heavy breath.
Heavy breath. That's all I can feel.
The panic is slowly rising within me.
No, no, that's my eating disorder voice.
In moderation, pancakes are okay.
Moderation, a foreign concept.
It's all or nothing.
Eat everything in sight,
Or nothing at all.
Nothing at all is exactly what
I want to do. Suncloud and DBT
(Dialectical Behavioral Therapy)
Tell me to do the opposite of what I feel.
The opposite of my feelings is like running into a
Burning building on purpose.
The opposite is like jumping into a pool
That you can't see the bottom of.
I can't see the bottom of this disorder, either.
Each time I think I'm moving towards recovery,
I'm confronted by something that gets in my way.
Like pancakes.
Pancakes.
Fuck I need to get ready to go.
Why does this feel like a death march?
Why can't I just be normal?
"Are you ready to go? It's been 15 minutes."
YOU ARE READING
Picking Up The Pieces
PuisiAn anthology of poems written by me. The uploads will be in 2 parts. The Before is part 1, and The During and The After will be part 2. This is the story of my recovery from PTSD, An Eating Disorder, and Sexual Assault.
