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August 4, 2013
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please, don't tell me how beautiful it is that i've parted my thighs like the sea. 

because there is nothing pretty about the tears in last nights dinner, or the way my hands shake around silverware. i am not poetry, but a language lost --in the spaces where flesh used to occupy lies everything i needed to say, kept as the only thing i could ever bear to swallow. if you try to write sonnets about the scars on my knuckles or the arch of my ribs, i will tell you in nine syllables less that this is more than abstinence and foggy reflections. i will tell you how my little sister can carry me in her arms like a child, and how my father can hardly navigate my bedroom floor without touching the brown vomit stains that makes his brow heavy. i will tell you how it feels to hold your own heart in your hands, to feel it break and skip like an old, worn cd. i will tell you how i am nineteen and fishing through musty boxes of clothes from my childhood, only to find that not a single pair of shorts can fit my sadness right. 

because anyone who has bent themselves over the toilet bowl for a spine like rosary beads can tell you that counting each notch never managed to calm the rotten waters of their stomach. that at three in the morning, easing their heart back into their chest, they only pray that tomorrow, something stays down. and even if i am alive years from now, there will never be a single soul who will want to sing about how my kisses taste like vomit and diet cherry pepsi or how i never leave the bed sheets warm. because my bones ache for thunderstorms, and when it rains instead of staying inside and watching movies, i stand outside to see if becoming a live wire could make me feel more alive. because i am the worst dinner date, the mouth you never wanted the obligation to force-feed, and a skeleton lying still in your bed instead of your closet. because anyone who tries to hold me only ends up circumnavigating this body and embracing themselves, feeling nothing but a pulse beating blue against their chest.
 
because when i am smaller, i am so much more than just less. 
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Daily Deviation

Given 2014-03-13
A wrenching true story of the struggle with an eating disorder: shrinking by AlloenDreams. ( Suggested by MadHat11D6 and Featured by neurotype )
:iconsarah--elizabeth:
Sarah--Elizabeth Featured By Owner May 5, 2014
Oh my goodness, this deserves so much more recognition.
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:iconilyilaice:
ilyilaice Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2014
The imagery is clever, the metaphors striking. This piece is frighteningly sad, and it's admirable how you can tackle it so head-on.
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:iconshedares:
SheDares Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2014  Student General Artist
Sadly beautiful :heart:
I've been struggling with bulimia myself for about two years now; I pray that I never reach the stage that you have described. It is one of those things that even once you've managed to stop, I don't think you ever truly recover...
BUT, however tough it may be, it can get better :tighthug:
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:icontheblackdragoninn:
TheBlackDragonInn Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
This is absolutely beautiful, and heart-wrenching and painful for someone who's been there in my own way. Extremely well written. <3
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:iconjojo22:
jojo22 Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
This is an all too often common story.  We live in a world that is, quite frankly, confusing.  Women see images of other women being objectified on a constant basis, and usually these women are unbelievably photoshopped perfection.  An interesting video here:

sftimes.co/?id=17&src=shar…

We constantly receive the message that we are inadequate and that our value is in our shell, not our souls. 

At the same time, the foods we are given to eat, that taste the best and are usually cheapest, have such a high calorific content that it directly jars against this goal of impossible perfection.  Eating disoders exist between these two issues.

We need to improve the quality of the food we consume and objectify women less.  
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:iconalloendreams:
AlloenDreams Featured By Owner Mar 26, 2014
i feel like a major cause is the way our society is associates food with emotion. both diet and food commercials always show exuberantly happy individuals, our social norms are to eat excessively after a traumatic event to numb it, and our nutritional view points are breaking down food to such a molecular level that its impossible to view it as it should be. food is no longer just sustenance, but has thousands of ideas pressed upon it to make it appealing, marketable, or comforting. 

i actually began showing signs of an eating disorder around age eight, as an attempt at emotional control. i never felt many of the commercialized pressures that are often associated with the disorder in media, though our diet and food driven society is incredibly hard to live in as someone who is trying to view food as simply sustenance. 

and, thank you so much for sharing your insight and opinions --i always find it incredibly interesting to hear other's points of view
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:iconjojo22:
jojo22 Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome.  I had issues as a teenager and young adult.  Often linked to having critical parents with high expectations (as was the case for me).  It becomes an expression of control when you feel powerless.  I got a handle of it when I made exercise an important part of my life.
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:iconsaiyanpelt-and-co:
Saiyanpelt-and-Co Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I hope you have gotten over this disorder, may God bless you if you haven't.
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:iconalloendreams:
AlloenDreams Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2014
i have had it since i was eight years old; it isn't something that will probably go away for quite some time, but i'm doing better and feeling better than i have in years. :heart:
it will go into remission, someday. and by that point, i'll be ready to study and help chronic patients like myself, finally.
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:iconsaiyanpelt-and-co:
Saiyanpelt-and-Co Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
You sound quite kind; may God bless you. :)
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