Saturday, October 17, 2015

No scale

I'm up spending some time at my dad's
Which I haven't done in almost a year
As I've been to sick
To come home and not relapse
Back to the very very bad times
When I was purging at least
Three times a day

Rachel Platten's fight song comes to mind

"Losing friends and I'm chasing sleep
Everybody's worried about me
In too deep, say I'm in too deep
It's been two years I miss my home
There's a fire burning in my soul
Still believe, ya I still believe"

As this accurately represents
The last year of my life.

As I was packing to leave
I packed and unpacked my scale
About five hundred times
Oh goodness did I want to bring my scale
But it's heavy, and takes up room
And is it really that necessary?

I should be able to go four days
Without stepping on a piece of glass
Which I let measure my worth.
However, I'm finding it
Increasingly difficult to eat
And follow my plan every day

The voices in my head
Are getting louder and louder
And I'm scared of what the glass slate
Will tell me when I get back home

How will it punish me for not abiding
By it's ridiculous rules
Of stripping every time
I use the washroom to see
How my weight changed
Every time I had to pee.

It's a bit freeing to live
Without this slate in my bathroom,
But my brain is going crazy
Because once I get back,
Vacation is over
And I become
A slave
Once again


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