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Come find me under this frozen surface...

addicted2hidingFeb. 3rd, 2005 05:27 pm

my friend wrote this, it has more to do with depression(which is what shes going through at the moment) but i really like it and i think it has to do with EDs aswell let me know what you think!

I spent seasons of hell searching for help

Clinging onto the slightest wisdom,

Desperate to save myself

Frantic to stop myself

 

Beneath my mask of mild distress

Is a nightmare of intertwined thoughts

The thorns in my imaginings have choked

Dreams of lives I wish I could live

 

Surrounded by people and yet so so alone

Surely you can notice that

But if you do it doesn’t show

I guess it’s easier for you that way

 

I’ll be myself one day

I threaten the demons in my dreams

That’s the promise that keeps me going

But lately I hate myself more and more

 

I could fake happiness

And sometimes enough to convince myself

It was the other person I could escape to

But now the thorns have killed her off

 

Can you not see that I’m crying out for help?

Vulnerable and scared

I don’t understand and I need guidance

I need saving

Is it that hard to see?

 

Twisted mind of dreams and nightmares

Messed up,

So evil and yet so sweet

The beauty of life gets poisoned here

And I have to wipe away the tears

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fatttyJan. 31st, 2005 08:10 pm

Diseased Culture
By LA Crompton

Looking back
on all the encouragement
and respect
and compliments
I received from others
when I was
killing myself
through starvation
It is clear
that I was not
the only
sick
one

Current Mood: coldcold
Current Music: the used blue and yellow

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addicted2hidingJan. 31st, 2005 08:14 pm

Dont be fooled by me by Charles Finch(i think it was anyway)
Found this poem in my memories and it made me cry(again)is there anyone else who can relate to it?

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear,
For I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks, masks that
I'm afraid to take off and none of them are me.
Pretending is an art that's second nature to me, but don't be
Fooled, for God's sake,
Don't be fooled.

I give you the impression that I am secure, that all is sun and
Unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is
My name and coolness is my game, that the water's calm and
I'm in command, and that I need no one
But don't believe me
Please!

My surface may be smooth, but my surface is my mask, my
Varying and ever concealing mask
Beneath lies no smugness, no complacency.
Beneath it dwells the real me, in confusion and fear, in aloneness
But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a
Nonchalant, sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to
Shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only salvation
And I know it, that if it's followed by acceptance, if it's followed by love,
It's the only thing that can liberate me, from myself,
From my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers
That I have so painstakingly erected.
It's the only thing that will assure me of what i can't assure myself....
That I am really worth something.

But i don't tell you this, I don't dare, I am afraid to.
I am afraid that your glance will not be followed by love.
I am afraid that you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh.
And your laughter would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing, that i am just no good,
And that you will see this and reject me.
So I play my game, with a facade of assurance without,
A trembling child within.
And so begins the parade of masks, the glittering but empty parade of masks.
And my life becomes a front.

I idly chatter with you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing, and nothing of what is everything.
Of what's crying within me...
So, when I'm going through my routine, please don't be fooled by what I'm saying
Please listen carefully, and try to hear what I'm not saying
And what I'd like to be able to say; what for survival
I need to say, but what i can't say.

Honestly...
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the superficial phony game.
I'd like to be spontaneous and me...
But you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand, even when it's seems to be the last thing
That I want or need.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes, the blank stare of the breathing dead.
Only you can call me into aliveness.

Each time you are kind and gentle and encouraging, each time you
Try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings,
Very feeble and unstable wings, but wings at least.

With your sensitivity and sympathy, and your power of understanding,
You can breathe life into me. I want you to understand that.
I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be
A creator of the person that is me if you choose to.
Please Choose To!

You can break down that wall behind which I tremble.
You alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me
From my shadow world of panic and uncertainty of my lonely prison.
So do not pass me by.....

It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach me, the blinder I may strike back.
It is irrational, but despite what the book says about man....
I am irrational.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than the strongest walls,
In this lies my hope
My only hope.

Please try to beat down these walls with firm hands, but
With gentle hands, for a child hides within, a child who is very scared.

Who am I you may wonder...
I am someone you know very well.
I am every man and woman you meet.

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fatttyJan. 30th, 2005 01:18 pm

Sorta down memory lane, cause I'm not in this state right now, I couldn't sleep again last night and I just took out a pen and some paper and wrote.

clickCollapse )

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fatttyJan. 30th, 2005 01:04 pm a monologue

I make lunch, make lunch for me and Buddy and Andrew. Mummy's little helper. I put six slices of bread on the counter, six. The bread is soft and big and brown. I cover the bread with peanut butter because I love love peanut butter. I slice up bananas and put them on top. Then four hey-dey cookies apiece into little plastic bags and one bed red apple for me.

I don't jog to school. I get a ride with mum but I make her let me out a block before so no one will see I'm with her. I study right until the bell.

I always eat lunch in the girl's washroom, always sit under the Tampax machine. I've never had a period and think by sitting under the machine this will somehow help. I realize this is not very logical but to the best of my knowledge I am the only girl in grade ten who hasn't started. I take the sandwich apart. I scrape all the peanut butter off the little slices of banana and eat them slowly. I eat the crusts. I love crusts. I don't even look at the cookies, I keep them hidden inside the bag. And then I throw the bag into the trash. Let's do lunch.

The last class of the day is History. On my way to class I feel clear as spring water, clear as glass, when I move through the halls I am moving in a glass box. I take my seat. When I leave there will be no impressions, no trace of me. I put my hands around my waist because my stomach is crying.

Slides of the Holocaust. There is no way of knowing who lived or died. Who are the survivors? I am feeling badly for the victims of Auschwitz, as is the rest of my class but I am more concerned about the four hey-dey cookies in my brown recycled lunch bag in the trash.

I want to dive trough to the bottom, dive into the thrown-out sandwiches, butts, damp paper towels, apples cores, and surface with my lunch, a giant pearl I can stuff inside and swallow and swallow...

Don't. I am afraid of the sound of my stomach, afraid my bones make noise inside my skin when I walk up the aisle, but I am most afraid because the inside of my mouth tastes like peanut butter and it should not.

- anorexic monologue, part of a play

Current Mood: sadsad
Current Music: a perfect circle- imagine (john lennon cover)

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__franny__Jan. 29th, 2005 04:08 am

a sestinaCollapse )

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iateforyoutodayJan. 22nd, 2005 10:08 pm

It had ended as any other day would - apocalyptic skies teasing the horizon with abundance of technicolor light. I watched the ocean flirt it's salty wisdoms as the sunlight kissed the hour new. It was an unbearable beauty like a dagger twisting between ribs, & I know it wouldn't last - as it never does. I was tired of the vast emptiness which took captive my essence & I felt like the bright dots of Hydrogen & Hemlium. The stars, as they weep & mourn, desperate for another release [accepting the truth of the sun's absence]. Their screams begging louder than a tugged sleave before the impact of a crash.

I knew I would never be beautiful.
I knew I would never be content. ©

Current Mood: depresseddepressed

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iateforyoutodayJan. 22nd, 2005 09:56 pm

It was as if she had found herself at a crossroad of crowded rooms & reluctant lightening bolts of blurry words. She saw herself seeping through pages of unknown territories - places she had never planned on seeing. The sting of gentle stories untold on bruised fingertips & fading refections of persons who used to be real. It was more clear to her now than ever before that she had been shoved into a standstill corner, waiting for a tide to wash away permanantly etched scars & a thousand hidden hungers. She watched the bodies tumble in desperation, reasions drifting away faster than her own disappating clouds.

& at that very moment her heart gave into the chaotic fears & her insides were left for dead, abandoned by their owner. ©

Current Mood: depresseddepressed

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__franny__Jan. 15th, 2005 09:26 pm

I try to describe how I'm losing my mind.Collapse )

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hiddeninsideJan. 14th, 2005 02:10 pm Living this Ghost.

I'll bathe with Fear.
And let it wash away my sanity.
I love these dreams you give me.
Wake up in this cold sweat.
I love the comfort it brings me.
Not knowing what is next.

Turn the electricity off.
My pain shines like a neon light.
Touch me.
Am I ice cold or fire hot?

Send my broken wrists to you in the mail.
You can sniff them like cocaine.
Get high off my pain.

Twist and turn.
Thrust and pull away.
Run your razors, your cold hands, down my neck.
Drive away this faultiness in me.

Have an affair with Depression.
Fear won't care it's cheating anyway.

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