Just a poem regarding the feelings that hit me from time to time as I struggle with recovering from drug induced anorexia. Sometimes the battle between getting healthy and what my warped sense of what I should look like it a difficult one to fight. Like recovery from any addiction / illness it is a day to day struggle.
I write a lot of poetry, stanzas about my feelings, thoughts at certain times. I want to clarify that because I chose to share these so publicly does not in any way, shape or form, mean that I advocate or embrace anorexia, drug abuse etc… I am in recovery and very, very proud of it.
I have a hate / hate relationship with food. I hate that I have to eat it, I hate that I actually need it. Every day it is the same routine. First I pop that glorious orange pill of mine that does nothing for my ADHD but works wonders on my appetite. Then I down 1, 2, 3 cups of coffee (I stop counting after a while) and chain smoke cigarettes until the afternoon.