Recovery is not linear. Some days she just won't be quiet. Some days she just will not leave me alone... "Don't even think about breakfast, you fat bastard". "How could you let yourself get here?" "ALL those fucking pounds you lost and for what, to eat your way back to this?" "People are expecting you … Continue reading Venom.
I understand it, now. I can relate to the distraction, I can relate to the impatience. The anger, the make up and raised voices. I can relate to the pulling of your clothes at the middle when you look in a mirror. The way you'd smooth down your stomach and do that thump against … Continue reading Message to my mother.
Today is the 19th of April 2017 and it is the last day of my twenties. I am even with the bad days, so clear, so awake and so fucking alive as I approach the 'big' 3-0. I wanted to float in a written piece through my third decade - so I might never forget what … Continue reading 1987.
And I wish people understood how it feels to look in the mirror, to get real close, and experience the deep rooted horror of knowing you can't change what you see looking back. Sure, you can make it thinner, change the colour of the hair upon it, but the stature and the shape and the … Continue reading Dysmorphia. (Trigger warning)
Dear Scale, We've spent so long together, I don't know where to begin. I want to tell you that although I won't miss you, that I truly loved you, for so long. I'd quietly noticed the way that my mother had spent her time on you over the years. I was confused as to how … Continue reading Toxicity.