Waging War

Hi, I hope everyone’s weekend is going smoothly. My week has been pretty boring, filled with therapy and schoolwork. I did, however, visit High Point University yesterday which was great. I have visited it before and I love it. It was so exciting to actually walk around the campus where I will be living next year!

I have been writing poems ever since I was diagnosed with anorexia in February. I find that it has been a great way to help me express how I am feeling to other people, and my treatment team because I have a hard time saying how I feel. Before my last hospitalization, I struggled a lot with both suicidality and self harm. My therapist told me when I relapsed in self harm, that I had a greater chance of turning to suicide again. I didn't believe her, because at that time, I didn't really think much about suicide. I told her that I didn't  want to stop and that even if I tried, I was too attached to my weapon. This is a poem I wrote right before I was hospitalized:

I’m in a War

I am in a war. 

The war is with myself. I’m shooting back and forth.

 A Knife fight with only one winner.

 A Knife, held in my broken hands, as I sit in the corner of the world.

My world is dark. I am lost in a state of despondency with no way but down.

I am in a war. 

The battle wounds are written on my wrists, reading the words “help me”

Help me get out of here.

Out of this cave where the only thing that echoes are my screams.

Screams, which are never heard because I'm too busy hiding my scars.

Scars which remind me of my past and the only thing that keeps it alive is that blade.

I shake in fear of the casualties, not knowing where to run next.

Running, my mind moves expeditiously, chased by nightmares that hide in my closet of

 Chaos.

It’s chaos but I can’t stop. I don't want to let go. 

I’m too attached to my weapon. 

I’m losing the battle yet I won’t surrender, for the pain I feel is leading me to the edge,

The edge of the cliff where all that’s left standing is a shadow.

It’s an ominous figure holding its arms out for me, saying “I’m here for you”.

But it’s lying.

Every time I embrace my friend it turns on me.

I feel ashamed, and am tired of the blankets covering the pain I inflict.

There is no escape, except from that moment of time,

Where my hands are the only thing comforting me and my scars are my reminder that I am in a war.

I am in a war and there will be no winners.

For the only fighters are myself and my past.

Past the monsters I’m walking faster and faster,

Moving is the only thing keeping me alive.

Alive from the knife being thrown in my back.

My shadow is killing me. 

It leaves me lifeless in the raging fire. 

I lay there, still holding onto the only thing I have left.

I am in a war.

For awhile I was very stubborn. I didn't want to let go of what I thought was the only thing I had left. I thought that a weapon used to inflict pain on myself was my friend. I thought it was there for me but at the same time I hated it so much. It was tearing my family and friends apart for all they could do was watch as an innocent soul cut until she couldn't take it anymore. But my fifth hospitalization was a wake up call for me. I thought about every thing that I was missing out on while I was trapped in a building. And it was all for what? 

For the sense of control that I never got. I am still in a war, but I am fighting every single day for my life, and I will not let that ominous figure control my life anymore.

Have a great week.

Stay strong.