I will never forget the ferocious velocity With which the creature ensnared me. Spines as sharp as needles protruded from my reclining back, Ejecting the agony Of a manipulated persona. My breath expelled with a gossamer sensitivity From my lungs. Each injestion pained me So greatly Like a signet unfurling its frail wings Unable to ignite flight. Beneath the resilient mirage Of strength and resistance to change, Resistance Of sustenance, Resistance of Nutrition And even fluid, I was diminished to a crumpled wreck. I was broken. I knew it, but felt helpless To fight The compulsive urges to starve myself, To live Off the adrenaline of hunger pain. I felt helpless To claw my way out of the prison I structured around myself, The prison coalescing between Me and my creature. We are sitting at the table. Creature, forsaken. Intangible. And I. Young girl unkempt Dismissed yet another plate of burger and chips. Perhaps it was an inappropriate meal To serve up to an entrenched anorexic, But regardless of whether I was served Baked beans on toast with no butter Or a mountain of apple cobbler pie And double cream, I don’t think I could have been persuaded To break my self imposed starvation. Each meal was a monopoly of calories, Metaphoric of ants infesting each nimble bite On the china plate. The plastic plate. Instead, my focus shifted to the hospital window. The world spun in an illusion of blackness- I didn’t feel like getting dressed today. My skeleton was clothed in stale pajamas. I had no interest any longer in my appearance, In my personal hygiene. The nurses instructed that it was mandatory To be dressed in order to enter the dining table. I no longer cared. The unkempt curtain of dyed purple hair Swathed my dying embers of a once Glowing face. Hope was lost in my eyes The sparkle of illuminated health was vanquished. Instead I lay liminal, awaiting my death, Awaiting Anorexia- my creature- to consume me And embrace with my mistrusting soul. I didn’t believe I looked anorexic. To me, the ‘classic’ anorexic was emaciated, Strikingly so, like a fairy. Anorexia was almost a glamorized mental illness In my mind. I believed it to be a lifestyle choice As opposed to the mental illness with the highest mortality rate. The carers told me I was skinny, That T was an example of how I could be thin But healthy with it. I was paranoid, convinced They were all lying. I saw only a grotesque morphing of flesh And utter dissonance. I had given up seeking self-affirmation. My mind convinced me I was a failure, And seemingly my actions And their repercussions Only entrenched these beliefs further. “ You have ten minutes to drink this ensure and if you haven’t drunk it by the time I get back, I’m going to call Pembury hospital to admit you to the pediatric ward as an emergency to be tube-fed.” I remember my male psychiatrist Pacing up and down my bedroom As I sat perched Ashen and quiet on my bed. My eyes did not meet his. My tears garnished the floor in a small Damp cluster, Slanting nihilistically down my sunken cheeks. I was staring intrepidly at a large cup Of Ensure in front of me. I still remember the aroma of Ensure. I still remember it infiltrating Through my nostrils Like a sinister intruder on my space, My body. The smell alone sent me Into a trance of panic And wailing I will never fully recall, Simply because I was only a shell then. I was my ‘self’ but was somehow Simultaneously disembodied. I had left my body long ago, And in its place was a solitary, volatile creature. I was the raw element of what composes A child. I was frail. I was vulnerable. But, paradoxically I was vehemently strong. In my mind I was determined. I was determined that: ‘they’ wouldn’t win. I had failed at everything Else in my short fifteen years, And I would be damned if I would fail At starving myself as well. I was going to win, If it was all I could do with my life, All I knew I could achieve was to be thin And fade into the floral wallpaper. I wanted to be imaginary. I defied the action of being real. Standing effaced to the wall, The creature prompts her to pour her cup of Ensure Down the bedroom sink. It cascades down into the gutters Like a fatal premonition But she smiles deviously Her blue lips crease into a manic smile. “ Well done.” Her talon hand rubs my back And removes cup from table. Her whisper is ethereal, fleeting. But it is enough for me. The creature recoils then evanescently smiles with the bluest eyes. I smirk to myself, curling up the edges of my mouth to form the crescent of contentment, however fragile. Deceit is what drives me. Nights consist Of endemic ankles My eyes are burning in my skull, I am a chronic insomniac, But, my creature assures me defiance Is resistance And resistance curbs the pain Beneath the layers And layers Of sinews And marrow And bone. Darkness consumes darkness, And nothing more is left to be seen But my face A pale moon waxing and waning.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Jul 2013 15:05:21 +0000