EDAW '14 | POEM: 'Help You See'

I wrote this poem for my Dad just after I started my recovery to try and explain how anorexia gradually tore his daughter apart. I've not shared it with anyone other than him until now, but I hope it helps others see how falling into anorexia's trap feels, from the inside for a sufferer.

Help You See 

By Sarah Robertson (October 2011)

I wish I could help you see, What's going on inside of me

I wish I could show you all, How my life began to fall

How these thoughts, That you can't see

Have always, Been inside of me

How I want to try, How I want to fight

How want to be me, And sleep at night

I wish I could show you more, Help you understand

Tell you how is feels, And let you hold my hand.

It's not your fault, You're not to blame

It was lots of things, That blew out my flame

You know I've been scared, Always panicked and afraid

These thoughts damaged me, And the foundations were laid

The pressure to be perfect, And to do my best

I’ve never felt good enough, Compared to the rest.

I should have of shut up, I could always pretend

I could be a better daughter, A better sister and friend

I've always hated myself, For always causing a scene

I just wanted to be normal, Wished for what could have been.

Terrified of food, Scared of getting ill

The same old fears, Haunt me still.

They add to the pain, And they fuel the fire

They are stopping me having, What I truly desire

I want to believe, What you say I am

I want to look in the mirror, And believe ‘I can’

You say I was perfect, And beautiful before

It wasn’t my perfect, And I wanted more.

I want to be the best, I wanted to be free

I wanted more from life, And wanted more from me.

I felt like I was failing, Not listening to the voice

That if I was able to hear, Then I had a choice

To listen to myself, That bit deep inside,

The desperate voice, That I tried to hide.

That voice has spent, Many a year

Telling me I’m useless, I tried not to hear.

Useless and fat, Set up to fail

Not pretty or talented, Too yellow, too pale.

I was tired and stressed, Too exhausted to fight,

It got to the point, I couldn’t stand the sight

The sight of my stomach, My sides and my face

I hated my body. I felt a disgrace

I thought that by listening, By following my head

That I’d be thinner, better. I’d be confident instead.

Instead of always comparing, And wanting much more,

That I’d be the better one. The one they adore.

I was sick of the guilt, The pain and the regret,

For being greedy and hungry, I wanted to forget.

Forget how I felt, And forget about the rest,

But it wasn’t enough, Because I wasn’t the best.

I should have been wary, Of the promises I made

This pain and agony, Was not a fair trade

I don’t understand, Where it went wrong

When I lost control, Or for how long.

How long ago it changed, From the voice I controlled

To this voice that consumes me. The one that's made me so cold

It was hard to accept, That I lost the reign,

I didn’t like, What I became

It took so much, To come and tell you about me

It was only the start. My step to be free

It’s not going to be easy, Or simple or quick

To fix my fears, Of control, fat and sick.

The only thing I can do now,

The only thing I can be

Is promise you I am trying,

I just wish you could see.

RECOVERY POEM: The Longer It Goes On

Another insight in to the mind of a recovering anorexic...

This is a poem I wrote three months into treatment, but looking back, I wasn't quite ready to recover. It was the first stage in my recovery where I was needing to JUMP and turn weight loss in to weight gain. 

It sums up the constant debate and confusion that someone choosing to fight anorexia nervosa feels and has to fight on an hourly basis, especially in the contemplation stage. 

It was one of my lowest points and hardest periods in the last 3 years, both mentally and physically and the anorexic voice still consumed me...But I did JUMP from here and it WAS worth it.  I hope some of you are able to relate and JUMP for yourselves too.

Recovery is ..being pulled in every direction mentally...

The Longer It Goes On. 

The longer it goes on,

The harder it gets,

The longer I stall,

The less I forget.

The fuller I feel,

And the less I weigh,

The harder it gets,

To keep her away.

The more I hold on,

And the longer I stall,

The harder it gets,

And harder I’ll fall.

I don’t want to listen,

And I don’t want to care,

But whenever I try,

I still feel her there.

There when I think,

There when I talk,

There on the scales

And there when I walk.

She’s there when I try,

And there when I don’t

There when I eat

And there when I won’t.

I take steps away,

I run, jump and hide,

I block out her voice

But she’s hiding inside.

Waiting to grab me,

Waiting for control,

Stood there judging me,

Waiting for my soul.

I’m speaking my truth

And exposing her rules,

I’m trying to fight

And using the tools.

The tools I have,

And the strength I can find

To get back my body

And retrieve my mind.

 (c) Sarah Louise Robertson Nov 2011 

EDAW '13 - 'Spotlight' A poem about anorexia

An edited version of a poem I wrote in September 2011, describing my personal battle with anorexia.  From its tiny whispers to the way in which it ripped my life apart. I am sharing this as my first post to help raise awareness during Eating Disorder Awareness Wee 2013...

Spotlight

My thoughts and your rules,

Take over control,

You’re constant abuse

Dents and damages my soul.

Every mirror, every picture,

Every thought, every meal

You’d tell me it’s my fault,

And how I should feel.

As you came a little closer,

I accepted you in,

I welcomed your friendship,

And let your control begin.

You showed me your dance,

And sang me your song,

It all looked so perfect,

I must have been wrong.

Your dance looked so tempting,

And your song so sweet,

Your rules, my obsessions

Your shoes on my feet.

Having you on stage,

Dancing my dance,

Your rules, your numbers,

I’d given you a chance.

But enough is enough girl,

I am awakening again,

I can see your faults

And have felt your pain.

Your drugs are wearing off,

And your feet look sore,

I can see you’re struggling

I’ll duet no more.

Your control is slipping,

And your time is up,

Your dance is becoming weaker

And the box office is shut.

It’s time for my solo,

My moment to shine,

So tie up your shoes, Anorexia,

This spotlight is mine.

National Poetry Day 2012

I've written a lot during my recovery, lots of journals, blog posts, letters and poems. Some I have shared, some I re-read regualry and some I had forgotten I had written, which still feel VERY real 12 months on. Like this one. 

HAPPY NATIONAL POETRY DAY 

You Think I Am.... 

By Sarah Robertson

Written in October 2011. 

If I'm beautiful,

I don't see it.

Successful,

I'm not.

A Caring friend,

I hate what I've got.

A bubbly girl,

With ambition

And drive

I hate my body,

And hate what's inside.

I really don't see,

What you think you see,

Why on earth,

Would you want to be me?

I don't believe

What you do,

I’d give anything to change

And be more like you.

Everyone is better

Can't you see?

Why would you ever

Want to be me?

You think that I'm confident?

Happy and secure,

I doubt my opinions,

And wish I had more.

I haven't achieved

What I wanted to do

Why can't we swap?

And I be you?

I’m successful you say?

Really, I’m not,

My writing is fantastic?

I hate what I've got.

I could be better,

I could have whiter teeth,

I could have blonder hair,

And like what's beneath.

I think you are lying

To make me feel good,

I don't believe what you're saying,

Or believe that I should.