Worst Battle Of My Life (including 3 poems)

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So the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with in my whole life so far has been an eating disorder. I fought, lost, and dealt with it for nine long horrible years. I finally was able to beat it, if you can call it that since it still lingers, and have been “clean” for almost two years and eight months now. It is seriously amazing how different you view things and how much easier it is to enjoy life and everything around you when you are not fighting for your life against your body and your mind. I am beyond thankful to my husband because without him I seriously would not have been able to make it this far. He never gave me an ultimatum, but just stood by my side, gave me stability, and was there to comfort me and talk to me when I needed it, even if that meant countless hours of talking me through the same things over and over again. Now I am more happy with myself than I have been in my entire life, and I am beginning to love myself and see myself as a friend instead of an enemy. So, here are some of the poems that I did while battling the disorder near the beginning. To give you a time reference it all started near the end of seventh grade or in the summer after seventh grade when I completely stopped eating and would work out until I would pass out. I had many scares and even would pass out on the side of the road during a run. That was scary because before then I’ve never seen a road come up to meet you in the face before you blacked out, but then without even knowing that it was a thing I started eating again and throwing up. Which landed me in the hospital after a while when I wasn’t able keep water down anymore. My blood pressure was 70/40 and I weighed 92 pounds. Then I was sent to rehab, which didn’t do anything for me because I was the only one in the place with an eating disorder, and as soon as I got out my mom took me out for pizza, and then on the way home I had her pull over and I threw up again. After that everything went from there with me even eating food out of dumpsters sometimes and wasting any money I could get a hold of to buy food from gas stations at one or two in the morning while everyone was sleeping and finding anywhere I could to hide to binge and purge. I would do it at family gatherings. I would do it when friends and family were were just in the other room. Anywhere and anytime I could find, I would do it. Sometimes it would even get way more than up to twenty times a day. Once I could drive, well then that didn’t help at all, and it was nine beyond horrible years that this went on that I wish I could take back. But now I weigh around 140 pounds 🙂 sometimes even 145 if I do a super heavy weight program for a few months, and I feel healthier and happier than ever and am super ecstatic to be as far away from that nightmare as I am now because I never thought I would be.

She’s so confused.

So lost in her head.

Thinking weight is what matters,

so she’s sinking in dread.

She knows she’s killing herself,

but she just can’t quit.

She feels bad with what she’s doing,

but see’s no way out of it.

Shes scared to eat anything,

yet wants it so much.

Getting into everything

and making it come up.

Why can’t she control herself?

Why can’t she just quit?

There’s so many people praying for her

trying to get her out of it.

But she knows she can’t do it,

unless she helps herself.

She has to learn to eat

and stop swimming in doubt.

She wants a good future,

but know it will never come

if she keeps going down this road

not finding a way up.

(A second poem I wrote in my journal right after that)

It’s such a mix-up,

Which way should I go?

Should I go with my fear

and let everything show?

Should I not eat at all

in worry of weight?

Or should I have it all?

It’s never too late.

I could purge it up later

and go out for a run.

Ugh… I want chocolate,

or do I want none?

Ugh! What’s with my mind?

Why can’t I think?

Can think only of food.

Can do nothing but freak. 

No, I can’t have anything.

Got to lose weight. 

But come on, it’s delicious

it’s got to be fate. 

I know I’m addicted.

Addicted to food,

but I’m also scared of it.

Could that happen too?

Why am I all three?

Why not just one.

Why do I have to starve, binge, and purge?

Why can’t I be none?

(Poem I have done after “beating” the disorder for more than a couple of years. I’m afraid it will always be there waiting for me, but with knowing that I know that each year I just have to get stronger in my mind, with my self image, and with my relationship with myself.)

It lingers

awaiting

awaiting the fall.

Will you give in

and just lose it all?

Will you let all your hard work

suffer in disgrace,

when you pick up the infliction

and lose all your faith?

 

(A picture of when I was admitted to the hospital. They brought in a dog to try to raise my blood pressure.)

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Make A Visual

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I do something that probably seems or would seem silly to most. I have written down on a piece of paper, in different colored markers :), my life goals and have it taped to my bedroom wall near the head of my bed. It was one of those things that I felt an urge to do one day. I wanted the things that I want to live by put into writing and put somewhere so I can see it everyday to remind me who I am striving to be and who I am.

If you are struggling with finding yourself, or want a little extra push for yourself, I would suggest that you maybe do the same. Another good place you could put your little list of goals is taped to your bathroom mirror if you have your own personal bathroom. If part of you wants to, but you are scared that you will look dumb doing it, I’m here to tell you to not worry about that. How does it look dumb to have something to strive to be? How does it look dumb to have put into writing like a contract the things that are your core values? Your life goals show what is important to you and show who you are. Just because you might not be exactly where you want to be right now, just desiring to be somewhere reveals where your heart is. It uncovers what really matters most in life to you and where your soul craves to be. It isn’t stupid to put something like that someplace personal. If someone saw it, it would just show them how serious you are about bettering yourself and how goal driven you are. There is nothing wrong with that. If someone feels the need to make fun of that or think less of you, then they aren’t that great of a person to be around and let’s see where they are at with their goals in five years or less compared to you.

My life goals are pretty simple in a certain aspect. I have them numbered on my wall, but to me some of them are of equal importance to the others. I have written as my number one to be a great mom. To help my kids have fun, learn lessons, and grow into great people. My number two I have written down to help people learn about and love their bodies, while helping them achieve their fitness goals. My number three is to be a great writer and be able to reach many people and help them find peace in their minds and souls. My last one is to be a great wife and to make sure that I am understanding towards what my husband is going through.

The husband one and the children one are pretty basic, but they are very important to me, and sometimes I feel like we get so caught up in our own emotions and our career paths that we forget about what we are needing and wanting to do for our family, so I like the reminder because I really do hope to be called an amazing mom and an amazing wife by my kids and husband. The fitness and writing goals are goals that make me strive to carve myself into what I hope to do for my career path because to me the mind and body are my passions and I want to be able to help people as much as I can for my soul.

So if you feel the urge to take this step and write your goals down, do it! Even if it is only to look at it for a second to see the type of person you hope to become and get a visual of who you may be later on. There is nothing wrong with putting your goals into writing and looking at them time and time again to make sure you are on the right path.

(Three Poems) Crazy What We Can Pull Through

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I’m going to do three poems today from my past. Not the worst ones. There are some that I am a little hesitant to share, but maybe I will get to them one day. I have just so many journals full of them. I want to get them all out there, but I’m not a fan of letting anyone into my past and seeing my dark side. I’m talking my really really dark. But I feel like people should know that no matter how dark you may be or have gone, that you can pick yourself back up. Some of my horribly terrifying poems I have written shock me at how messed up I really was. I look at myself now and I feel so much stronger, better, and happier. I remember not too long ago when I thought that I would never be able to make it out of a certain something. I could see no light at the end of the tunnel, but I did it. I conquered something that I never thought would be possible, and doing that has made me realize that there are so many things that I can do and accomplish that I don’t even know about yet. It has made my marriage stronger, it has made me desire more to better myself, and it has helped me help people close to me and I’m hoping one day people who don’t even know me.

When Are You Theirs?

They keep coming and coming,

visions black with fear.

Eyes start blurring

from straining them to clear.

They won’t go away,

small glimpses of hell.

Killing, sex, and burning,

people dying out.

They keep on taunting,

never going away.

With nothing left worth seeing,

our imagination it plays.

Words they keep on coming,

silent as the grave.

All filled with lust and torture,

raping another’s game.

They just keep on stalking. 

People, they want to sleep.

Kids while they’re playing.

Pets while they eat.

They just sit and watch at sin,

of sex, guilt, and play,

of lust, envy, and anger,

anything that’s lame.

While we’re all lame inside,

can’t move. Can’t think.

Can’t swim. Can’t flush out evil.

Can’t work. Can’t sleep.

We have things go in our heads.

Are they real? Are they true?

Is it when they control,

or end up marking you?

Marking you with scratches

from their icy fingers that burn.

With eyes that slice like knives.

With memories that yearn.

Is it when they make you suffer?

Is it when they make you play?

While making you have sex?

No control left to escape.

Leaving, It’s up to them.

To make fear rule.

As you keep on having visions,

while the demons take with you.

(When Are You Theirs was when I was having hallucinations when I was in late middle school and early high school, which I’m pretty sure were caused by a mix of medications I was taking. I won’t go into what the hallucinations were of course. Also, just so it is known, I am only now just naming some of these poems so it is easier to separate them and find out their meaning. In my journals they have no names. The poem below this I won’t name.)

Life is done.

Death is near.

We all hear panic.

We all see fear.

We close our eyes

to block out the pain.

The darkness has taken,

the light from the day.

She runs to hide.

Hide herself from strife.

He comes for her.

Comes to take her life.

He grabs her now,

rape in his mind.

His face all darkness.

His eyes not kind.

His hands all cold.

He holds the knife

and thrusts it home.

Her end in sight.

It strikes her heart.

She holds her breath.

Blood in her mouth.

Blood on her breast.

Her face turns pale.

She sheds one last tear.

Blood in her eyes, she swallows

the last of her fears.

(A poem with a mixture of elements I was obsessed with and that were going on at the time.)

Please

I’m lost, lonely,

frustrated, scared.

Worried, confused,

trapped, and bare.

My thoughts are running.

I’m drifting away.

I’ll never know if

I’ll see another day.

Everyone reads me

when I want to stay closed.

Waiting to seize me.

Me not wanting to go.

Waiting forever

for someone who’s real.

Not leaving me helpless

and making me feel.

Being numb and cold

not feeling a thing

makes you …. want to

only just dream.

Because while everything’s moving

as fast as it goes.

It calls into question

how far we will go.

Will we go on forever?

Are you and me real?

Or am I just sitting alone

waiting to feel?

Feel someone with me.

Someone against my skin.

Someone to love me

and let me in.

Someone to work with.

Someone to hold.

Please tell me you are out there.

And where I should go.

I’m done with being confused,

lonely, and scared.

I’m in desperate need to find you.

I need you here.

(Another one from my past, but sometimes I find some mistakes and/or I add on and finish up some poems from my past. Which is what I did for this one. It is great to see more clearly now. Not as clear as I would want to, of course, but clearer than when I was younger. Just have to keep sifting through our minds and figuring things out until life is precious to us again. Diving into these poems in my past feels like greeting and getting to re-know the past me. Sometimes it is dark and scary, but it helps to know that I did and have pulled through, and if I ever get encountered by darkness as black and vivid as what I have encountered in the past, that it is more than possible to pull through it again. :))

 

 

“Monsters are fake!”

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“Monsters are fake!” She yells at her mom.

Her mom stares at her five year old daughter with a smirk and an evil look in her eyes, “No, honey. They’re not…” she whispers. “Look around you…” she grabs her daughter’s arm as her daughter lets out a scream.

Her mom’s grip was tight and bruising her arm. She was being dragged to a mirror.

“See!” her mother yells. “Look in there! Now don’t you see a monster!?”

The girl looks at herself in the mirror, crying. She did see a monster. Two in fact. One holding the other by the arm.

 

(another piece of writing I did in my past)

 

Please Make You Mine

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Let’s lighten things up with a happier poem this time. This is one I actually did today.

Brilliant blue eyes,

so striking, they soar.

Lips so luscious,

one smirk, and I’m yours.

Chin standing dominant,

masculinity in every line.

Voice smooth and perfect,

please make you mine.

 

Searching…

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I want you.

My body, my mind, my soul

it screams for you,

it lusts for you.

I search…

Search every city,

every town,

every dream,

but I can’t find you.

You’re lost.

I’m lost.

I’m just left to wonder

if you ever did exist.

A poem I did in early high school when I was in the middle of searching for the one I wanted and needed to be with. The one person that my body and soul yearned for, but didn’t know where to find him. I’m sure many can relate to this.

Live To Inspire

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Make it your life goal to inspire people. Constantly work on being that person who people look at and go, “WOW”. If everyone kept in mind that we are meant to build each other up and encourage each other, then everyone could keep inspiring one another until we have all succeeded and gone further in life and as a human race than we ever had before. If we all worked on being our own individual bests and focused on being inspirations, we could reach out and help people without even realizing it. We could motivate people to work on finding the best ways to live and do things that would make them happier. We could strengthen one another by giving each other hope that it is possible to accomplish goals and live an ideal and happy life no matter what anyone has been through. We should want to be the type of people that people see and think to themselves, “well, if they can do that or be that happy, then I can do this and be as happy.” We should want to inspire and spread hope for as many people as we can. We should want to be uplifting and influential. If we aim to be influential and inspirational, then not only could we inspire others, motivate, and change the world, but we would also be making ourselves happy and loving life in the process by doing what we love and being the best that we can be. Inspiration is what makes the world keep moving and changes lives. Inspiration is what keeps people uplifted and their dreams big. Be an inspiration. Live to inspire. Inspire to inspire.

Clenched Death

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Life,

death.

Everything covers her.

She wants them both.

The growing need

it pushes her,

to do something

that most won’t.

She holds her death in one hand.

Seven pills in a fist.

It is funny that that is God’s number,

for he will be seeing her

after this.

 

Another poem from my past.

 

It’s Not About Being Flawless

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We all have goals. We all have dreams. We all have places we see ourselves in however many years, and in order to get to those things that we desire, we work hard for them. We push ourselves so we can have our dream body. We practice so we can be great writers, runners, dancers, workers, or whatever else we want to be near perfect at. We get frustrated. We get paranoid. We get to be really hard on ourselves when we aren’t as close to our achievements as we want to be. We start pinpointing all the flaws in our plans and our goals. We start detecting all the little imperfections we see in ourselves that we perceive as being in the way of what we want. We start putting ourselves down and bullying ourselves. We start making unfair judgments towards what to expect from ourselves. We start to become not a friend anymore to our body and soul, but a critic with harsh assessments. We start to lose focus on what is really important. We lose sight on why we are here living on this earth. We forget what keeps us up and what keeps us going. We no longer have fun.

Life isn’t about being perfect, flawless, or the best. Life is all about having fun while you do what you do. It is about making memories and enjoying yourself. It is about loving every step you take on your journey to become who you want to be. What is the point of doing the things we work so hard on and waste most of our life on if we aren’t enjoying ourselves while doing it? We only have this one lifetime that we will remember, why not fill it up with great memories? Why not have more to celebrate than just the fact that you reached your goal? Celebrate the fact that you reached your achievements and have a ton of fun recollections from the passage. Have fun! Celebrate life! Have a blast while you become the best you at whatever you want to be! Don’t fret over being the most perfect person that is ever around. You will only lose yourself in the process and when you get to where you want to be, you will feel empty and irritated at yourself for taking so much time to get to where you are, but not feeling how you expected to feel. Enjoy yourself! Love the life you are living! Love yourself! AND HAVE FUN!!!

Beat Being Born Into A Bad Situation

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Sometimes we aren’t born into the best kind of situations. Sometimes life isn’t fair for us the moment that we come out of the womb. Sometimes pure love isn’t what awaits us when we take our first breath. Sometimes instead we are faced with rejection and a pain that we won’t understand until we are old enough to comprehend and question it, if we ever can.

After being born into those types of situations where maybe you weren’t completely wanted by one or both parents, maybe you were thrown into a broken home, or maybe even before you turned five you started to be abused and molested, life slowly starts to beat you down and can make you feel more and more worthless as the years go by. You begin to question the purpose of your life and if you are only there for other people’s amusement and misuse. You begin to question what love is and how it is supposed to feel and whether it is something worth searching for. You begin to see yourself as a born failure that may never amount to anything because you feel like you were doomed to fail from the beginning. You find yourself labeled. You define yourself as a bastard, a disappointment, or a burden.

Feelings can’t always be helped, but actions can. Yes, life is extremely unfair at times. Yes, when you are knocked down right from the beginning it is harder than ever to get back up, especially when you don’t know what getting up feels like. Yes, it is hard to follow your goals and try to make something of yourself when you are surrounded by so many bad examples at the beginning and you view life differently than most everyone else.

The only way to overcome this sense of insecurity and resentment towards life and yourself is to focus on beating the odds. Focus on making yourself not another statistic. Make yourself someone not worth feeling sorry for. Make yourself one of those people who rise from the ashes and surprises everybody. Rise up. Rise above chance. Rise up above the circumstances. Make yourself worthy. Make yourself worth something to someone.

I personally hate the look of pity on people’s faces. If I get that look that tells me that they don’t think I can amount to much and that they give me a pass for failure. I don’t want an excuse to be able to fail. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. I want looks of complete shock that I was able to dig myself out of a hole and go further than anyone thought I could possibly go. I want to wipe away any sadness that anyone might have for me. I want to inspire and reach souls who are struggling and help them out of their holes they were born into. I want to be worthy of someone. I want to have a purpose.

So if you are struggling or have been struggling your entire life and can’t think of a good enough reason to get up and fight the circumstances, I have one for you. Do it to strive to be worth something to someone. You can be worthy. You can make a difference in someone’s life by showing them that not everyone born into bad situations are doomed to fail. You can show people just how strong you are and that the life your were thrown into wasn’t a penalty or something meant to slow you down, but something meant to make you stronger and help you become a warrior against chance. You can make a difference by being the difference. So, go out there and be the difference.