YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

I wrote this one awhile back. Enjoy (or not)..





A Monday is missed, gluttony overwhelming, the cycle continues with unending sloth.

He whimpers in pain, an effort demanding, cold and stiff he returns to the trough.

Starches and sugars, fats and meats, all are eaten with immediate regret.

He stares in the mirror and sees his reflection and wonders of expectations not met.

He wants to change but excuses are made to avoid all effort, resistance, or pain.

Instead he retreats to his bedroom to relax, avoiding his needs, on his bed he has lain.

At night he wanders down to the kitchen, an illusion of hunger, insatiable greed.

The fridge is opened with ravenous excitement, shoving down food that he does not need

Weight quickly climbing with a reversal of desire, separation is gone with features of clay.

He waddles in public, ashamed of his figure, bloated and sad at his hideous display.

Hope is dwindling with each passing moment, motivation waning with every new pound.

Sweat, flab, and folds bring misery apparent, his jiggling body now entirely round.

His form exemplifies the American diet, a mind in denial with nature sedentary.

A lonely existence brings pain unending, a body forever ruined by the weight he must carry

This one hit hard. Food and sleep are my only true friends. My wife was impressed with how many sit-ups I could do today, so I have hope. But I wish fat didn't come with such shame. I am so ashamed of my body.

Joekababazae, thank you for sharing. OMG do I feel this one a lot, especially this section here:

At night he wanders down to the kitchen, an illusion of hunger, insatiable greed.
The fridge is opened with ravenous excitement, shoving down food that he does not need

It is so difficult to move past using food as a comfort/coping mechanism. Sending you hugs and hope on your journey

Joekababazae,

I just read your poem and it hit home 100% for me. Every night, I go to the refrigerator and "look" over and over again. The question is: "What am I looking for?" No, it's not food. I"m looking for comfort to ease the pain I feel inside. It's not what you're eating, it's what's eating you. I know you and many others already know this but it's worth exploring and getting down to the basics. I just joined this forum and I feel so happy to have found it.

By the way, you write beautifully, with such clarity and depth. I was deeply moved.

I wish you much success on your journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance and I hope someday soon you will write a poem entitled: "A poem about loving myself AS I AM."

Many blessings to you. Hang in there!

nikegirl

Thank you for sharing this, you're definitely not alone. It's so hard struggling with an addiction to something you need to survive, and having to wear the evidence of it every day. I feel trapped in both my mind and my body. Your poem captured so much of that.

The line "the illusion of hunger" really resonates with me. Sometimes I feel like that. I'm not really hungry, but I have this invisible urge to eat!