Mom, anorexia is not your fault.
Starving was not a scheme of being skinny-
But a way to feel worthy.
It is an outlet to feel empty and loved by anyone who risks it.
Nights consumed by insomnia and textbooks were not strives to get good grades,
But to keep the demons at bay.
You wished I would be more confident,
Little do you know I’ve found confidence in the blade, the purging, the emptiness.
Please know that when I beg you not to hug me, it is not out of hate, but out of shame,
That I could not be what you asked of me.
I know you hoped I’d be a nurse just like you,
But I’m still coming to terms with the blood soaked gauze pads in my garbage can.
I’m trying mom, I really am.
But it’s just so hard when all I have to look up to is a group of women on diets who are obsessed with looks.
When I am confronted with women who tell me to love myself but refuse to go to the bank without makeup.
Women who choose judgement as their drug and expect me to enable their addiction.
Mom.
Anorexia is not your fault-
It’s my drug.
curiosity killed the cat 