• Weeds

    Like a weed,Prickly leaves, garish, yellow flower,It sprouts in the most unlikely places, between grey concrete,up out of the dark. Sometimes I tear it up because it does not belong.But again it pops up, irrespective of conditions,to be appreciated, to be accepted. Imperfect, but beautiful.Happiness is like that, it finds a way.

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    Tags:
    hope,
    happiness,
    recovery
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  • Rusty Tools

    I have little faith in my tools. They are rusted, poorly kept, and blunt. As I walk through the wilderness, my pack rattles it's sparse contents, revealing all the hollow spots, the absence. I doubt the rations will see me through. I do the maths in my head and the outlook is not hopeful. A miracle is what I think I need. A rescue party. More capable people, with fancy, shiny tools. And yet, even barefoot, even half-starved and aching, worn ...

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    Tags:
    hope,
    survival,
    strength,
    ;,
    eating-disorder;
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  • The Way Out

    It is only scary when there is no direction. Even times when I've felt lost, deep in virgin forest, it's okay as long as there is a sense of purpose and direction driving me somewhere.The scariest parts of the journey have been the times I have cast off purpose and chosen to walk blindly, randomly into the dark; stopped noticing where I was going.Stopped wondering where I'd find myself next .Stopped plotting my progress on ...

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  • Black Holes

    Some things can cause time to warp and bend, Some parts of our lives are black holes.We feel sucked into, trapped,held by an irresistable force.Once, finally, free, time moves too tidily,too easily,too quickly, its repitition stopped.It's not so familiar anymore.That is frightening,for there to be so many new, original things,so many new, original moments.Stop thinking of yourself as home,start thinking of yourself as somewhere to jettison from. 

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  • The Safe Room

    I could learn to live in a room like this. Low ceilings, narrow window. I could learn to stoop and make myself small. No room in this chamber for other bodies,done by design so I can go unseen,so I'd never have to worry about being described behind my back,being slashed across the achiles heel. Better this shruken life than having my soul raidedif I dared to open its lid. What you don't know can't hurt you.In this small room, ...

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    Tags:
    dealing with past experiences,
    vulnerability,
    fear,
    betrayal,
    Trust
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  • The Wound

    Some days it catches my scent, then it's on my trail all day, driving me over the edge of the steepest cliff, clipping at my fingers as I cling on, holding onto composure. I feel open and raw to the world, people speak and I sting, my mind is a damn to the floods of emotion and it aches with the strain. Those days fighting back tears for ten hours out in the world, while people look into ...

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  • I Am The Thing That Tries

    Everything felt like an injury.Every day felt like it would be framed and displayed forever.Every time I made a mistake I felt that mistake was who I was as a person.But I am the space in between the mistakes. I am the thing that tries, not the thing that fails.I am me on my best days. That is the part of me that can steady myself and see the perspective, that knows that mistakes shrink ...

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  • The Collector

    He is my favourite hiding place,I stash my fears there,in the lining of his heart. He keeps them in pockets, turns them over in his hands,running a thumb in circles,over their surface,'til they're smooth, transformed,and returned to me:smaller, simpler, and rounded. He does this seamlessly,calmly.  They come back not quite so heavy. He will be a wise old man,  

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    Tags:
    hope,
    anxiety,
    support,
    fear,
    love
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  • The Shadow of the Future

    I am tethered to it, no matter how remote it seems, no matter how impossible. Connected, every part of me, by delicate threads. Each movement ripples away behind the veil of time. It's not opaque. I can see shadows and light dancing across the surface.I move and the shadows move, I get hints of how they connect. It's not always perfect, I can't control everything, but the way I move, it moves like me, I can control this. ...

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  • Positivity

    A bloated word, embarrassing, in florescent colours. It grins at me. It is an unfeeling word.I want to pop it like a balloon and watch it whir across the room and reach the floor, deflated and realistic.It is used irresponsibly, that word. You should need a license to use that word. Only those who use it properly should be allow it. It is not a door you can simply step through, a place that you suddenly ...

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  • Every Single Failure

    I collected secrets daily.I promised mysef that each was the last. A promise that lasted a day, then needed replaced.I filled up with these discarded promises, 'til I was brimming. Sickened,locked in a chamber with all my daily failures, and they summed me up.I could not see myself as anything otherthan the sum of all these parts. I kept them there, inside a feeble belief I could digest them all myself,that eventually this mass of broken promises, failures, ...

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    Tags:
    sense of self,
    self-knowledge,
    recovery,
    courage,
    truth
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  • Territorial

    A force inside my mind,inside my chest,a force that feels something like pain,but not quite,something like fear,urges me to go.  How much will I surrender to this feeling,this foreign part that comes from me,but is not me.Is not welcome. This feeling speaks a urgent language,it speaks to me in ultimatumsabout what I can and cannot endure. It says 'enough' several times a day,but I don't leave when it says leave.I don't give in when it tells me to.And ...

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    Tags:
    identity,
    recovery,
    survival,
    despair,
    endure
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  • An Old Skin

    A reflex to look backwards,just to be sure it's not still trailing,it's not catching up on me.Me: it's betrayer.An old skin,worn and peeling.I run my hands over myselfI reassure myself at least three times a daythat it hasn't made it's wayback there, behind my eyes,an old, dead self.Young and dying. Brittle skin,hard enough to crack, I watch out for the slow hardening,the scales appearing.Soften to myself,flesh too soft to break,but stretch and train its shape. 

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    Tags:
    sense of self,
    recovery,
    future
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