A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correct him
because the truth, when he sees it,
will make him happy -
but not for me.
Awkward silences and smiles,
because no one can lie that well -
I sit at the back while they cluck
around a beautiful, broken boy,
and ache because if I wasn't
disgusting, repulsive, ugly -
then they might do the same for me.
and they don't.
so I sit and stare at the toilet bowl.
For the record, this poem isn't about this guy, and I hope he never sees it because its truly not about him or his life, and I'm not going to name him or share who he is... this poem is about how I feel about myself.
I have binge eating disorder, there I finally told you guys. I dont want to talk about it because Ive only started tentatively mentioning it to people and havent really talked about it seriously with anyone yet (Im going to try and do that when I go home this week) - but my point is, with the binge eating, and knowing someone who hates themselves the way I do except they ARE beautiful, and I'm not... it makes the temptation to purge much more intense.. and I am frightened of losing the little control I have in my life.
I dont know what the fuck Im doing any more.
DISCLAIMER: Kids, eating disorders are bad mmkay? Not glamarous, not a shortcut to happiness, or thinness, or the boy or girl you want. It just doesnt work and fucks you up physically, mentally and emotionally. Just dont.
I know what it is to live in a world where the standard of beauty does not match your appearance, and it's hard. I know what it is to weigh more than what society says you should or can in order to be beautiful, and I know what it is to know that even if you did weigh the right amount, there are other things that stand in your way. But beauty standards change; what we decide is beautiful in one time may be ugly in another.
All people have beauty in them, and those who can't find it in others are the ones who are losing out the most.
All of that just boils down to: I hear you. I can relate. I'm sorry. I love you. I see beauty in you.
Such things are not fun to deal with. After-shocks and tremours, psychological rifts that never quite mend. Oh yes, and then there's the cognitive dissonance between form and substance, spirit and mind.
Flesh is a temporary thing. It probably means nothing from a stranger, but it's a lesson learned hardly, and one hardly learned at all. Flesh is flesh and a part of the natural order, sometimes we must let it guide us. When we attempt to reshape it to our whim, we can lose touch with the anchors of our soul and feel quite lost. Beauty is a plastic thing, my dear. I recommend you study the differential opinions of beauty. Perhaps in learning that the false standard we live with is so heavily propagandised, you might gain me clarity. It helped me, though I struggle still.
I am sorry that this kind of dysfunction has poisoned the clouds of your spiritual horizon, for what it's worth.
Hugs! If you ever need harassment just let me know!!
I suggest you decide what you want, for both your body and mind, and then take action to get it. If you hate yourself, it should be easy to be ruthless. To stop binge eating, lock yourself in a room or refuse to go into the kitchen. Or only eat what someone agrees to cook for you. Regardless, you will have to make the best out of what life has provided.
As for the boy, if you want him to believe your words, all you have to do is stop being kind. Instead of saying, "you're beautiful," say, "You're too stupid to realize how beautiful you are and I'm sick with envy." He thinks anything spoken with compassion is a falsehood designed to make him feel better. So, be cruel. He'll believe it more easily.
I will always be by your side-- giving you unending support. Please do not stop fighting, I love you dearly.