Qualify

Do I

Qualify?

.

Tomorrow

I will sit before a face

A face who has seen the times

A face who has seen the terrors

She will ask me questions

Questions I don’t even know how to answer

She will be listening

For all the tell-tale signs

.

All the tell-tale signs

That make an insurance company required to attend

All the tell-tale signs

That make a patient worth it

I already know what’s not on that list

((I’ve been on both sides, you see))

A deep yearning for a better quality of life

A desire to stop measuring everything that enters reality

A hunger to feel true desires

To tend to an age-old grief, these unspeakable embeddings in flesh

A thirst to escape

The Cage

No, these do not qualify

.

But what does,

I do know

.

This hair, falling

This blood, anemic

These bones, porous and in danger

This confusion, panic attack, overwhelm

.

I want to change but I don’t know how

I want to change but I am scared

I want to eat normally, but I can’t face the fullness

I want to stop restricting, but I can’t figure out

How to be with the terror

Of that introjected hate

Of that semen forced

.

I tried to change but I couldn’t

I told myself that I would not do this again

But here I am

I don’t feel like I can really ever change, get well

So

why

keep

trying

I could stop fasting, but then what?

My whole life is arranged, like a house of cards

Around this constant schedule of control

If I let go, who am I

If I let go, what do I do with myself

If I let go, how do I sit with

These overwhelming feelings of confusion

Disgust

Purposelessness

Meaninglessness

Drowning

Drowning

Drowning

Choking

Choking

Choking

.

I want to nourish myself

See my actions create healing, strength

But each time I try

I hit this wall, old and impervious

It brings me to my knees

.

Do I qualify

To get help to let go of a lifetime’s illusion

I don’t hate myself

I’m not dying (yet)

And I can smile and put on the routine

My blood pressure is stable

My weight is minimal but ok

My intake is spartan but not emergent

Fact is

I look like the perfect example of what society wants

People laugh at me at thinking something’s wrong

Slim, in control, and witty

If they only knew

My little girl is dying inside

.

This body is not failing (yet)

And I can put on one damn good show

But am I still worth it?

This misery, this child, this ancient trauma

Calling?

Will you help me?

Is healing possible?

Will I even be able to release

What all the ones before me could not?

Do I give up now and prevent the disappointment?

Do I

Qualify?