POEM: You

There are experiences in life I witness, see or hear which stick with me and I can't shake them from my mind. This happened to me yesterday after my appointment at the clinic. As I walked away from my session with Miss. F, full of ideas to help in the battles with Ana I saw a girl.

A girl, who probably wasn't much older than me, although she looked 20 years older. She is an inpatient at the same clinic I am getting treated at and seeing her struggling to walk down the corridor has stuck with me. I can't shake the image of her from my head, nor can I stop thinking about how ill, frail and old she looked.

I wanted to stop, hug her, tell her it'd be okay, tell her she's worth more than that life. But I didn't. And I realised that I need to do the same to myself. I need to remind myself that this is the extent of Ana's games and when I try and convince myself 'I am nothing like her', I need to also remind myself that I am.

As I went to bed last night I took this with me and I wrote a poem about her to try and explain how it made me feel seeing her, especially at the start of a week where I need to turn around my recovery, psychically and psychologically after a tough week last week. This is for you.

You 

You looked so frail,

Your face so old,

To our destructive friend Ana,

Your soul you’ve sold.

It shocked me to see,

Your delicate frame,

But it’s easy to deny,

Our thoughts are the same.

You’re tight in the grasp,

Of the same evil bitch,

But, me, I’m freer,

With the chance to fix.

Your life she has taken,

The control is not yours,

But the damage, your pain,

Still happens indoors.

I caught a glimpse,

Of pain in your eye,

It’s not a life you’d have chosen,

And neither did I.

Your delicate frame,

Covered in a mountain of clothes,

This is not the perfect,

That you or I chose.

Your legs were so tiny,

And your arms weak and thin,

I’m intrigued to know,

What you feel within.

There is a pain that links us,

We saw at a glance,

You looked at me softly,

And saw Ana’s dance.

I don’t want to become,

The girl that I saw,

I know life is worth living,

And I am worth more.

As you struggled towards me,

The look that you gave,

Your eyes were so empty,

Your body, A slave.

The sight of your legs,

The skin on your face,

Tells a tragic story,

Of Ana’s embrace.

Your life seemed shattered,

And your dreams ripped in two,

And I’m going to bed,

With nightmares of you.

I can’t erase this moment,

It’s stuck in my head,

It’s all I can think of,

As I lie in my bed.

Your fragile bones,

Clear for me to see,

The struggle you showed,

The look you gave me.

Seeing you suffer,

Has made me see,

If I don’t fight harder,

You will be me.