The Routine – a poem (28. september 2017)

Every morning I wake up to a song
reminding me to keep living
for if I find no other reason during the day.
After stepping out of my bed
I immediately look into the mirror,
trying to find a person
somewhat familiar.
I take out my scale,
afraid to stand on it,
the number terrifies me every time.
And that number and maybe even more
keeps me from eating too much.
I put on my make up,
hands shaking,
heart beating,
for I am painting a mask to hide behind
in case I am too ugly to look at that day.
I look in the mirror one last time,
a person who I no longer recognise stares at me back.
Last bodycheck and I am out the door
hiding behing a person who I am not.
But you know, some days,
I am too tired to take out the scale,
and I forget the number
because there are prettier things to remember.
I don’t paint a picture on my face
because I try to show kindness and love in my eyes,
and those things were never ugly to look at.
I look in the mirror and see my reflection,
the same one I have known for years.
When I was 19 years old, I came down with anorexia. I had it for about a year before it became public. And it had a lot to do with my self-esteem. Tracey Gold >> bad self esteem is a bitch, she ruins everything

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