Our latest Guest Blogger expresses the fears and self doubt his experience of anorexia brought to his life, through his poetry.

If these walls could talk, isn’t that how the saying goes,
Demon a constant perched on my nose,
As I sit by the phone all alone, awaiting that any caller,
Silence remains,
Feeling forgotten further and smaller,
Days on repeat as the coward, the loner, the expert moaner,
No wife, no children, everything for I frozen still,
No matter, the doctor has reached out with the answer… A single happy pill,
Another week too weak to work, no income no sum to the family table,
Feeling like a burden, a jerk,
Living life through files of old photos that hold smiles,
Now just a fable, now just a fable,
The outside feared,
Stains now medals on clothes and a grown beard,
Will life get any better if so when, so I pull out the paper and pen,
To my niece I am sorry,
I am sorry for no hugs, no holding hands, no claps,
I am sorry for the pushes away and fuse snaps,
Guilty I should take to the stand,
…To promise you play days by the park, bedtime stories and simple walks,
Screaming down the microphone as you learn to ride the bike,
Wait, I can still do all those things, it doesn’t have to be this way,
Today, I can break down that door and talk.

“Writing down the words have acted as counsel for me to get my fears and frustrations out about low self worth, doubts, family conflicts and to make any little sense of trauma. Trauma caused by near death experiences with anorexia only a matter of years ago.
I love to express and find the terms that fit. More importantly, I just want it to either relate to those suffering from an eating disorder, showing that with admission, things can get better. Don’t bottle demons inside as without an outlet things will only catastrophise. Words and confiding in others can act as an extinguisher against the monster.”
man sitting in a field with sun setting

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