ok so december 2018 was the worst month of my life

I write about everything personal I go through, for some reason I just feel like it helps me to process it and deal with it in a way. A year ago I overdosed twice and ended up in the hospital, and I wrote a lot of poetry during that time of my life. Here are some poems I wrote while I was in and out of the hospital that are unedited and are just basically my raw thought process while I was at one of the lowest mental places I’ve ever been.

Why did it I get so bad? I know I’ve talked about it a little in the past, but basically I was prescribed antidepressants that made my mental state a lot worse, I was trying to be a good mom alone and had no idea what I was doing, and I was still dealing with court cases against my daughter’s biological father.

I dealt with the anxiety and loneliness I felt the only way I knew how: by falling deeper into my eating disorder and writing about the pain I was feeling in a candid, open and honest way.

The reason I’m sharing these poems and these thoughts now is because I just want people to realize that where you are now can be so different compared to where you’ll be in a year. Things can get worse of course but … things can get BETTER. Things can become beautiful.

I wanted to give up and I thought I would always feel as bad (or worse) as I was feeling a year ago.. but I was wrong. My life changed. It’s not perfect, I’m not always happy and I’m not always making perfect decisions in regards to fighting my eating disorder, but it’s a million times better than it was a year ago.

One thing I love about writing personal poetry or journaling is it allows you to truly reflect, to look back and review your legitimate thought process at the time and see how much you’ve grown, and to be thankful for the change that’s happened since you wrote those words.

Last December, I seriously didn’t care if I woke up. I weighed 89 pounds at my lowest and that was all I truly cared about. I loved my daughter, I loved my family, but I felt like I was just wasting their time and I was a burden on them.

So… here are some poems from 2018, unedited, that I wrote while I was going through some deep shit. And honestly, I’m sharing these now because it’s that time of year where people are making New Years Resolutions or trying to find the perfect Christmas gift. There’s always room for improvement and to expand your goals, but the best gift (to yourself & your loved ones) is to look back a year ago and realize you’ve grown, changed and improved your mental state immensely.

2019 hasn’t been smooth sailing, but I can honestly say that the way I view myself and the world around me has improved since 2018 and for that I am proud, happy and grateful.

December 2nd 2018

My eating disorder has never been consistent. Ups and downs, highs and lows. More rules, less food, all of it terrible. 

My life is literally I wake up, I weigh myself, and then I do everything I can to not eat for as long as possible.

Sometimes I drink just because it drowns out my eating disorder’s voice for a little while. Sometimes I drink because a little bit of wine masks my hunger. 

S k i n n y and dying.

S k i n n y and alone.

I remember I knew it was getting bad this time

and I loved it

Every warning sign I welcomed.

I knew every time I skipped a meal

I was getting worse.

This morning when I stepped on the scale

It read 96 pounds.

I haven’t been 96 pounds since I first was anorexic when I was 16. 

(And even then, it was only for a short time)

My eating disorder has been pretty bad at other times since then.

But I have literally never been 96 pounds, not for a long time. 

I know that BMI is bullshit,

but I’m secretly proud that mine is 17. 

U n d e r w e i g h t 

but it’s not enough.

Restrict, restrict. Distract, distract. 

I can rarely ever focus on anything but eating

(or rather, lack of it)

How depressing does my life sound,

Spending every minute plotting about how little I can eat. 

Proud that I weigh 96 pounds 

Crazy that it’s the only thing about me that I like right now.

You know what’s funny? 

Or really not funny, just fucking awful

But true

I am 96 pounds and I am miserable

I am 96 pounds and I hate myself 

I am 96 pounds and somedays I just want to die 

I know I am “skinny” 

and I’m still not happy.

I got to the low weight I wanted,

and it’s still not enough.

It will never be enough.

I’m sick but it can’t be that bad.

But when is it that bad? Who’s to say when an eating disorder becomes “that bad”?

I am slowly dying

and I feel like I’m already dead 

A walking skeleton, barely breathing

And yet, even though I recognize this,

I still don’t want to recover.

I know that I am sick. 

I know that it’s pretty bad.

I know that even though I weigh 96 pounds,

And I can count my ribs,

And the bones in my back stick out threw my skin,

And even though I’ve “achieved” this level of underweight 

And I’m barely living (and I barely want to),

I don’t want to recover.

I don’t know who I am without an eating disorder anymore.

I don’t really know if I want to find out.

What if I recover and I’m still depressed?

What if I recover and I fail at life anyway?

If anorexia kills me

At least I will have succeeded at one thing.

December 3rd 2018

8:30 PM 

and my “eating disorder recovery app”

has been notifying me all day

asking me what i’ve eaten

log your meals, log your snacks,

it reminds me.

i laugh cause there is nothing to log anyway.

might as well delete it

cause what’s the point?

i don’t want to get better.

i’d rather die skinny

than recover and be fat. 

recover and give up control. 

like maybe i’m missing out on birthday cakes

and family dinners

and ice cream on warm nights

but none of that means anything anymore

cause i don’t even care

right now 

i would rather miss out on those things

dinner dates with someone i love

brunch with my friends after a fun night out

donuts, cause they are my favorite food 

i’d rather just not eat 

cause it’s no longer worth it to me.

December 9th 2018

A few nights ago

I got drunk 

(what else is new)

I drank too much wine

I broke up with someone I loved

Then I felt so alone 

And tired

And like it would never get better at all

So I took a bunch of prescription pills

Xanax, to be exact

I woke up in the hospital

Confused

Tired

What the hell

Psych wards are like prison

Why am I in a psych ward?

Why are the walls so white?

No, I don’t want lunch

I want to go home

I didn’t do it on purpose, I lied

I just didn’t want to sit in that white room

Staring at the ceiling

Staring at the walls

Strangely thinking about nothing

Except wondering if I was crazy

Or if me being in a psych ward was a mistake

I’m probably crazy

I should probably be here

Cause why else would I end up here

Staring at these white fucking walls?

December 15, 2018

Fragile.

That’s a good way to describe me.

It feels like my bones might break

At any moment.

Or at least like I might faint.

December 18 2018

The truth about eating disorders is that not one person’s illness

is exactly the same as another’s.

You can label them if you want— 

“She has anorexia” “She’s bulimic” 

Labels don’t mean anything. 

Not really, when it comes to this. 

Eating disorders are personal.

They are unique diseases and they present themselves differently 

in each person who is affected by one. 

And they evolve and change the same way people evolve and change.

It doesn’t matter what your “label” is or isn’t 

You’re sick, you’re dying 

You’re miserable 

And a label alone isn’t enough to explain what someone 

suffering from an eating disorder is going through.

When I tell you I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy, 

I’m not lying. 

I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world 

To go through what I do mentally every. single. day. 

And I might not even have it “as bad as others do”

Which is something I hate when people say, 

because you can’t compare your illness to someone else’s. 

If it’s destroying your life and consistently and constantly occupying your mind,

it’s bad. 

Trust me. 

Maybe from the outside you look happy,

like you are this put together, perfect, beautiful person.

But your body is decaying from the inside out.

Whether you’ll have a ‘good’ day is determined by a number on a scale

And even that doesn’t last for long.

You will get to that low weight and realize you’re still unhappy.

But you can’t stop, even then.

Even when you know you’re playing a losing game.

Because an eating disorder doesn’t just let you go,

Let you walk away once you’ve reached a certain weight.

You can’t stop w o n ’ t s t o p won’t even want to really.

I mean yeah you can’t focus on anything else,

Including the people you love.

But you weigh 92 pounds. 

You get compliments constantly and comments about how skinny you are.

It’s worth it, right? 

Choosing to die for that kind of false admiration.

And it’s not admiration to anyone but someone sick with an eating disorder,

Because most people who look at you now are concerned.

But that concern is a gift to you,

A reminder that you are succeeding. 

You might be losing at everything else,

but you are winning at your eating disorder,

And isn’t that enough?

Hasn’t that always been enough?

You don’t feel as lonely when you’re empty.

You don’t feel as sad when you’re starving.

Or maybe you do, you just can’t comprehend it

Because your brain doesn’t function the same anymore. 

I’m barely alive when I don’t eat.

I’m miserable when I do because I feel like I’ve given in.

Having an eating disorder 

Is like dancing with the devil. 

It’s addicting, an obsession,

You know it’s wrong,

But it feels so right. 

I’m skinnier than I have ever been in my entire life 

And it’s still not enough.

I honestly don’t think it will ever be. 

My bones ache constantly

But that’s something I’ve learned to love.

A reminder of my success with my eating disorder.

It’s fucked up I know

But at least I’m skinny  

December 23, 2018

My life revolves around taking pills 

I literally count my prescription bottles

Every day, throughout the day

I know exactly how many I have,

And I’m obsessed with double checking.

I’m shaking constantly 

But I’m skinny.

My nails are breaking off 

But I’m skinny.

I can’t focus on anything 

But I’m skinny.

I’m miserable 

But I’m skinny.

I’m dying

But I’m skinny.

R e c o v e r 

Or die.

But I don’t really want to do either.

So I don’t make a choice.

Except not making one

Is still a decision

Not choosing recovery

Is automatically choosing to die.

It’s just easier not to acknowledge that.

Bruises cover my legs,

Don’t even know how they got there.

I drink because at least then

I stop thinking about it

(S o r t  O f )

I feel my body getting weaker

I know it’s slowly shutting down

But I don’t care

Cause at least I’m skinny.

I love my ribs

I love my collarbone 

I love the way my skin

Stretches tight against my cheekbones 

I like looking at my back

Cause I can see my spinal cord.

I don’t like my body,

I don’t like my mind,

But at least I love my bones. 

December 24th, 2018

When I woke up this morning 

I stepped on the scale

After all, it’s the first thing I do every day

91 pounds, it read.

Merry Christmas to me, 

I’m 91 pounds.

Congratulations,

you’re skinny 

You’re also dying.

Less less less. 

Trying to act like it’s not a big deal

Even though it’s everything to me.

A is for anorexia 

B is for bones

C is for crazy

D is for dying

E is for everything sucks

F is for fuck it all

G is for god knows what

H is for hell, cause it’s where i’m going

I is for I’m surprised I woke up 

J is for judge me

K is for knowing better but not doing better.

L is for loose clothing

M is for maybe I’m losing my mind

N is for not caring about anything 

O is for oh well

P is for pictures, documenting my death

Q is for quiet, how it’s calming and suffocating 

R is for remember when it wasn’t this bad

S is for suicide, cause I guess that I tried (also for shaking, cuz i can’t stop)

T is for thinking about nothing else than losing weight

U is for up, cause i think i’m going down

V is for very, if you’re wondering how bad it’s gotten

W is for wine, just to forget 

X is for xanax, to numb it a bit

Y is for yes i know that i’m dying 

Z is for zzzz cause all I want to do is sleep