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Mediocrely versing through recovery. Carpe diem.

Although I never intended to loose any mass,

Pleasure I found, in how fast my hunger pangs pass.

Then came the day,

When all it took was a glimpse to say:

This aversion to food,

It’s making all of my bones protrude!

Not to worry, tomorrow I start eating.

A journal, you think, that will keep me from cheating!

That piece of paper has kept me alive

For I promised the number of meals to match at least five.

At first, it was all smiles and good mood.

I found energy in increasing my food.

Then came true hunger, the one dormant for years,

The positivity faded; from now on it’s all tears.

My stomach screaming for more and more food,

My mind barking I’ll never stop, I’m screwed.

Nighttime sweats as my organs are freaking out,

Daytime bloating, as my body’s saving to survive the next drought.

In between, I experienced nothing less than excruciating pain.

I was confused, and food, the supposed medicine, was the only to blame.

I felt fog and dizziness as I was crossing Manhattan’s streets.

The scariest part I admit were my skyrocketing heart beats.

This goes on and on and on as I go…

I wondered why recovery was so goddam slow.

I wanted to go, be out in the world…

And when I did, it’s like my vision got blurred.

I no longer enjoyed the things that I used,

On many occasions, I asked to be excused.

But each time I returned back home, in my bubble to sit,

It was never an experience that made me quit.

I pushed and challenged myself more and more,

I wanted my life to resemble the one I had before.

Along with my body, my meaning started to take form.

In choosing recovery, I had to allow my life to transform.

I stopped caring for things that always brought me pleasure.

I lost some of my confidence, that thing I used to treasure.

I became scared of the world outside.

But re-lived some memories that served as a guide.

They influenced me to embrace my fear.

Once it fades, the path ahead is always more clear.

Social relationships are the biggest blessing in my existence,

In the hardest of times they helped me keep persistence.

Belief and compassion on the other hand,

Are some road assets I succeeded to land.

They helped me get to a place where I find myself well,

One where I look around, and everything is swell.

Reveling my illness, was the third pillar…

In sharing my story, I became anorexia’s killer.

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