Render Me Silent

Body forgive me.

  

Sometimes I miss being sick.

The grimiest part of me wishes I had stayed in that familiar city of grey and illness.

I've considered myself recovered from my eating disorder but I still speak about it in present tense. I had pants the size I wished to be and now that I've gotten rid of them....I wish I still had them.

The haunting of the scales stick with me but the numbers are far too important to ignore. Our whole life our worth is scored with numbers and how well we do. We are taught that numbers matter.

The numbers on a clock tell us what to do, grades, our GPA, our age... it determines how we live our life. How we make choices, by what society says is appropriate for our age.

So tell me this, why is the scale numbers any different.

You call it a sickness I call it an addiction. The feeling of cold water on an empty stomach is like a drug. Once you feel it you crave it, like an addict always craving for their next fix.

Trying to ignore the constant regret of feeding myself is like ignoring subtitles on the television.

Body forgive me for I have forsaken you.

Looking at my small snack I call a meal, crying because I only feel pretty when I'm hungry.

If you are not recovering you are dying. Dying is being cold in a warm room...the shaking doesn't stop just because I do.

Body forgive me.

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Eating disorders may be a sensitive topic for some:(

This is me, how I was feeling a year ago when I wanted to relapse because of the stress. I still do from time to time, recovery isn't a few months or a year.

It's a lifetime of not giving in.

Stay strong:)

Xoxo Dara