Visibly Invisible Illness

Some say it’s an invisible illness

But I see it everyday as I look in the miror

The rolls, the stretchmarks, the cellulites

All these bites eaten to soothe the pain

To hide this endless void of suffering

Forgetting what hunger fills like, fearing the emptiness.

All this weight I am still wearing as an armor

To shield myself against the harm of the world

I wear the shame and the disgust as another layer of clothing

As I was thought as a little girl, it only flared up since

It may be invisible to others, but it’s the only thing my reflection shows to me

Not the heartwarming smile, the gentle eyes, the compassion to others.

Not the love of those surrounding me, only what is absent, my own.

Focussing on the lack when the rest abounds.

Coming to terms with a body that is scarred, marked by mental illnesses and eating disorder

A body I fail to see its beauty doesn’t make it any less beautiful, desirable, worthy.

A body some would deemed lazy, stupid or ugly.

A body I inflicting more violence than it deserved

By a mind that is invisibly ill to others.

20 years of suffering in silence, invisible to most.

To you, a smiling young woman, with all her life in front of her.

To me, a self-reflection filled with disgust, self-hatred, failing to see what you do.

You tried with all your might. You can’t save me.

But I haven’t given up yet.

Just watch me.


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