The Magician, The Enemy & The Warrior

My mind is a magician, a wizard if you will. But not the kind like Harry Potter, if that were the case then perhaps I would enjoy the curses I have been afflicted with. My mind is well versed in tricks and spells alike, it has no problem keeping me up at night. 

My thoughts are my enemies, they pit me against myself and seem to enjoy watching the chaos that ensues. My thoughts are not always my choosing, sometimes I wish I could just turn them off. 

My body is a warrior, and sometimes it feels like I am fighting a losing battle. I take up proverbial swords and weapons, trying to ward off the thoughts that my mind conjures up; but to what avail? Because, even when I successfully fight off these thoughts, they always manage to come back again. 

I was first diagnosed with depression at the age of fifteen, generalized anxiety at seventeen and developed an eating disorder at nineteen. This is what my life has felt like since then. I feel that I am constantly afraid of the things my mind can do to me, the thoughts it can produce and the horrors it can wreak on my body and my life. Living with multiple mental illnesses is a daily struggle, and I wish I could say that I’ve come up with all the answers, but I have not. I am learning things about myself day by day, and I am hoping that these sometimes small lessons are enough to continue fighting my battle.

My mind is skilled at casting spells and controlling the thoughts that flood it. There are days when my mind is the scariest place on earth, so I sleep to avoid confronting it. I am never sure of what version of myself is going to wake up; this is a fear that is so paralyzing that staying in bed all day out of fear has at times become the easier option.

My body tries to fight against my mind and thoughts. There are days where this fight seems totally doable; like I am Harry Potter, I am the chosen one and I can take on anything life throws my way. But there are also days where the fight seems like I am a single feather in the direct path of a tornado; a fight that is over before it starts. On these days my body feels like a shell of which the contents are completely detached.

Everything is impossible to explain, so I don’t even try to understand. Nothing seems reparable, so my toolbox collects dust.
On these days, I feel like a stranger to myself.
On the good days, I know and understand every last bit of myself.
On the good days, I am Harry Potter. On the good days, I win.
On the good days, I fight hard enough to accept the bad days where
even the idea of fighting is too much.
I have accept that my life is about give, and take.
I have accepted that there are times that the hand I have
been dealt seems like it is the worst possible hand.
But I have learned to make daring plays,
I have learned to cast counter spells,
I have learned to combat my enemies,
and I have learned that this battle is mine to win. 

 

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A moment frozen

A breath held in impatience 

A life once lived

Power Play

I told them that you did not deserve my forgiveness. I told them that it would seem like I accepted all the things you did: the lies you told, the insults you hurled with the strength of a thousand punches… I told them that I could not forgive you and make those things okay. I thought that if I forgave you then it was somehow providing you with validation that the things you did, that the ways you broke me were fair and respectable; but they weren’t and they never would be. I harboured so much anger and resentment towards you for everything that I could not see that by holding onto so much ill will that I was keeping myself in a cloud of negativity.

But then they explained to me that my forgiveness did not have to be for your benefit. They told me that it could be for me and that maybe it could be just what I needed to finally let you go. That maybe if I forgave you, then I would be releasing you and any power you had or still had over me. They explained to me that forgiving you did not mean that I was accepting your actions, or validating them. They explained to me that forgiveness was not an act for you, but it was for me to be able to admit to myself that what you did to me was not my fault. You chose to control me, to manipulate me, to hurt every part of my being – and that it was not my fault. They showed me that by not forgiving you, I was not allowing myself to also be forgiven.

So when you found your way back into my life after so much time and I saw that you could still install fear in me, I realized they were right. But moreover I realized that I needed them to be right because I had to be able to move on with my life and not have you in it. I needed to be able to move on and to no longer hold so much anger in my heart. So, I forgave you for me. I let you go for the last time, and finally the only person who had the power was me.

Mantra

Find your words and
hold them close to your
soul. It might be one simple
word, or an entire phrase
long. Repeat it to yourself
not only when times are hard
but also when you are
happy. Let your words serve
as a reminder to always hold
something dear to you. May you
remember that even in the darkest
of nights, your words can act as a
guiding light.

Just as I am, I am enough.
Just as I am, I am enough.
Just as I am, I am enough.

I Wasn’t Even Good Enough at Being Sick

I thought that
because I could not
count each of my 
ribs,
that I was not sick.

I was not
keeping down more 
than one meal a day
but that one meal
made me
believe
that I was not sick.

I searched for
hours and
looked at pictures of girls
who were ill and I
saw that I did not look like
them
so I decided that I was not sick.

So I hid and I
told myself that
until I could count
all if my bones
and I was passing out,
that only then would I
be sick.

Baby

I never wanted
children
because the idea of
another
person being fifty 
percent
of me was simply
disgusting. 

But then I met
him
and all of him was so
perfect
that it evened our the
parts 
of me that I found
sickening
and the idea of a tiny
human
being even 
fifty 
percent him was simply and
totally
and one hundred percent
perfect. 

If Only Someone Had Told Me

Darling, I know you
think that toilet bowl
holds the answers
to your pain – 
that giving up your dinner
will accomplish your goal of
feeling worthwhile;
the same way that the
razor blades
seemed to hold 
the hope and fulfillment 
that you so badly craved.

But the toilet bowl
and the razor blades
are nothing more
than vessels for
your demons to
further infiltrate
your spirit
and they won’t 
solve a damn thing.

20/20

They told us
that if the boys
were mean to us

it meant they liked us. 

So from a when I was
a small flower not yet bloomed
I equated lust
and love to desire

and meanness. 

The first time 
he called me stupid,
and yelled in my face

I thought it was love. 

The first time 
he told me that I
was worthless

I accepted it as normal. 

When he called 
me fat
I thought it was normal
and I made myself believe 

he meant it in a good way.

When he threw
things and got angry
and scared me,

I thought it was because he cared about me.

When he tore
me down
to bits of nothingness and
ripped my petals off of me

I told myself that he was mean because he loved me.

If they had told me
that boys being mean
to girls
was wrong,
and that true love
lets you bloom to your
full flowery potential

maybe I would have walked away sooner.

Vice

First comes the burn;
painful but not too much
& welcomed. 

Then comes the high;
what the cravings are
made of. 

It is followed by a pang of remorse;
wondering if it
is really worth it. 

that doesn’t last long.

Next is the thrill of the hunt;
grasping at air,
searching for even a shred of hope. 

Despair ensues as it crashes in;
it feels like drowning,
all consuming.

Last is the downward spiral;
it all falls apart,
and you question every last bit of it… before the cycle starts anew.

S581

I grew up here. 
This is where I
came to be on my own.
This is where I
said my hardest 
goodbyes and some
of my happiest 
hellos. 
This is where I
thought my life
would begin,
not where it
would fall apart. 
This is where I 
realized things
had changed.
This is where I 
cried myself 
to sleep and
laughed until 
I cried. 
This is where
the past came 
back to haunt
me in the form of 
a text message.
This is where I
learned that I 
am stronger
and more
brave than I
ever knew.
This is where I
met the most
amazing friends
who replaced the
ones I thought
would never leave.
This is where I
learned to say no
and where I 
learned that 
validation does not
come from
a body.
I grew up here.