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Poems

Below are a few more poems by a patient who struggled with Anorexia Nervosa for many years. These poems give us an understanding of the internal world.

The Hunger

 

I’m told that when one is hungry,

One’s stomach aches in pain

I guess the only hunger I know

Is pretty much the same,

I’m told that when one is hungry

One feels drained and empty inside.

The hunger I know is just like this

And I can think of nothing besides.

I am told that when one is hungry

Everything else no longer exists

I know nothing else seems to matter

As the hunger in me persists

But it is not a hunger for water-

Nor is it a hunger for bread.

Instead it’s a hunger for something

I’m scared just might be dead.

The hunger’s not in my stomach-

Although not far apart

This hunger I feel in my soul

Is a hunger of the heart

In this poem, we notice that Hunger that is not physiological is expressed in “going hungry” in starvation. It is important to understand that in satisfying The Hunger with food, this stops its expression; stops keeping it alive-which is difficult for a patient until she starts to feel this hunger in other parts of her being.  Thus the great difficulty for patients with AN to eat.

 The following poem The Wall expresses very aptly the regression experience by patients with AN. It also describes the detachment, dissociation and shame which blocks out a world that has caused so much pain. It also expresses the chill and cold that occurs when there is no emotional engagement with people.

The Wall

 

Sometimes I get discouraged,

And I feel so very small-

When everywhere I turn

Seems to be a monstrous wall.

 

And I stand down at the bottom,

Not knowing what to do-

You see, I’m not quite sure

If I want to make it through.

 

The other side seems far away,

The wall seems very high-

Has all I thought I’ve changed,

Just been a great big lie?

 

An now I’m faced with choices-

Do I stay or do I climb?

Do I show them all the real me,

Or cover with a mime?

 

I know my side is not ideal,

The bricks are growing mould-

The grass is brown and dying

And the breeze is icy cold.

 

But it’s made me who I am

And it’s all I’ve come to know,

Even if I want to leave,

Change still scares me so!