This poem sort of mirrors the manic feel of being caught up in a serious eating disorder, as well as how suddenly things can go wrong.
Crazy Weights (A Game)
Put it on, take it off– the objective: To win
You drop and you rise, then play again
When the weight is put on by some hospital staff
And the choice is being made on your behalf
It’s agony, torture, you just wait to break out
Through the whole thing you shriek and you pout
As soon as you’re gone there’s nothing to lose
Except for the fat that they have infused
Time to step up– new here are the rules:
You must cut your food into molecules
You must check the scale at least every hour
With every pound lost you will have more power
Throw up every calorie over the line
Know where your boundaries are, keep them defined
Run, lift, and stretch, come on, keep it up!
Remember the goal here, you’d best not fuck up!
But oh no, it’s beginning to complicated
The stakes are becoming elevated
Your body’s rebelling and you’re getting sick
You’re starting to hear the game’s timer tick
But if you’re going to die, by God, you’ll be thin
Come on now, come on, there’s still time to win
Keep working, keep running, they can’t make you stop
They’ll try but they know you’ll run ‘till you drop
But in the end when your body gave out
And your family was left to deal with the doubt
Could they have done better? Could they have done more?
Were there symptoms or signs they might have ignored?
If you were alive then you might feel regret
You might want to say sorry for all the upset
But now you will never receive that chance
Because you decided to dance this mad dance
In the end was trying to “win” worth the cost?
For it wasn’t just you– everyone lost
© Sarah Henderson 2008