blabla

Hallow, empty,

in an ice cold world,

darkness, gloom,

my thoughts twirled.

confusion settles,

lights flashing all around,

this way, no that way,

no contentness can be found.

I stare into the mirror,

my gaze upon my abs,

big, fat, flabby,

feels like some sharp stabs.

cuts in my gentel heart,

slices in my sensitive soul,

delicate, defenseless,

with a huge and giant hole.

I know this writing isn’t so good but too bad 🙁

super depressed right now. feeling really empty and fat.

Thanks guys for the encouragement! I will never forget the 1st time I posted I was sure I was the worst writer on this thread!

you can break a heart,

in just a moment,

but can’t put it together,

unjust atonement.

Can cause lasting trauma,

in a second’s event,

a smooth surface,

a permanent dent.

you can tear apart,

knots of thick rope,

takes year to replace,

lost of all hope.

you can destroy a life,

in an unmindful word,

but the once clear vision,

forever now blurred.

you can shatter the glass,

of a crystal clear window,

can’t glue it together,

forever a shadow.

you can tear a paper,

shred it all through,

can’t piece it together,

it was done by you.

my friend watch your words,

more powerful than you think,

you can change someone’s world,

in less than a blink.

The little girl is crying,

over her poor doll that’s lost,

adults think its a joke,

oh how much does it cost?!

But to the wailing little girl,

it means the world to her and more,

she was a carefree happy child,

life was great before.

The tears are trickling down,

her piercing cries are intense,

she’s desperate for her baby,

to others makes no sense.

to me it seems so petty,

balling over a silly doll,

but really its something more,

for attention that’s her call.

The pitiful girl feels hopeless,

pointless and ignored,

abandoned and alone,

friendless, lost and bored.

There’s an underlying cause,

to her abundant tears,

she feels the pain of an adult,

although so young in years.

Parents, what have you done?

your children are in distress,

you think they don’t understand things,

and their needs you constantly suppress.

They’re smarter than you think,

their cognition is much higher,

wake up, pay attention to their needs,

some care they do require.

The aroma of freshly baked goods,

the look of heaven scented chocolate,

rolls of scrumptious croissants and danishes,

its all sick.

the fat that results,

the rolls of goo,

not worth it.

i briskly walk down the street,

pass a salon,

the heaven scent of perfume,

manicures,

lotions,

that appeals,

that begs for my attention.

I want to be pretty,

I want to be skinny

Thanks people!

Not really a poem but just some “writing”

My therapist:

She carried me through,

fumbled along this treatorous journey,

pulled and chugged,

all along the bumpy rode.

She held my hand when I was in pain,

put her arm on my shoulder when I needed.

She was there through thick and thin,

always guiding me in the right direction,

putting my life in focus. She saved my life.

Not once, not twice, but too many to count.

She is priceless. She is the world’s gift,

the one I can count on when nobody else cares.

The one who will never abandon me.

The only one in this whole wide, dark world who can actually

UNDERSTAND my depression.

I will forever owe thanks to you,

my name 🙂

WOW! You’ve got talent…:)

OP can you please give the mods your email or something so I can give you some information worth hearing that I don’t feel comfortable sharing with the whole cr? I’d be glad to help out!

Of course its positive! 🙂

saysme-Wow, good to know I’M not alone!!

Anorexia,

I gasp,

staring,

gazing at myself in the mirror.

I keep looking,

amazed at what I see.

I see a stomach,

so giant and round,

popping out of me,

I see my arms,

fat dripping,

hanging over,

I see my legs,

the size of elephants,

I see my chin,

quadrupeled,

my cheeks

fluffy and bloated.

And I see fat.

Fat,

obese,

I see me.

Yet they tell me again,

again and again,

they tell me millions of times,

that its distorted,

but how can I

believe their false lies?

how can I

believe their false flattery?

does the scale lie?

does the mirror lie?

Yes, my anorexia lies.

Thanks so much mods! Sorry to drive you nuts!

I’m seriously ready to call it quits. I’ve had enough! I can’t survive this world any longer. I don’t even believe in Hashem anymore…so why can’t I commit suicide? What will happen if I do? Where will I go? To sleep forever? YUM!!!! 🙁 🙁 🙁 SOmeone help

Shattered,

battered,

torn,

inside,

cold and alone,

isolated,

miserable,

a hopeless case,

resigned for life,

I give up.

I just want to mention that not ONLY breslovers go.

Well, I’m obsessed with boruch levine’s new cd…

But the second I saw the title of this thread I knew it had to be you 🙂

I don’t even know how much I’m going to shul tomorrow…probably I’ll go tonight because people will ask me where I was

What if you don’t fast tomorrow? Is it still a mitzvah to eat? And get fat?!

A little voice,

deep within me,

speak,

yells,

screams,

it wants to be heard,

has an argument,

for my rational self.

It tells me i’m fat,

ugly,

OBESE,

I ate too much.

My rational self yells,

and attempts to argue,

it says the scale doesn’t lie,

but for some reason,

my ED screams back,

doesn’t remain silent,

must win the war,

it says the number’s too high.

I peer at myself,

deep into the mirror,

my gaze falls on my stomach,

popping,

sticking out,

ginormous!

It must flatten

I hear ED.

he tells me I’m hopeless,

pointless,

and big fat PIG

and I can’t help it,

so I believe him

the support I get here is priceless. Thank you all so much!

A heart of gold,

giving and warm,

generous and wide,

can calm a raging storm.

listening and sweet,

a glow in the dark,

a reason to live,

a life, a spark.

Thank you mod. I just did that and am waiting for a response.