After months of questions and denials,

I finally gave It a title.

“Do you remember asking if I might be anorexic?

I put up quite a fight,

But I think you might be right.”

 

Mom called doctors and conducted research.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t resist the urge.

We got some help and it got me through,

But after years and years

I was still not in the clear.

 

During my freshman year of college,

My newfound best friend gained the knowledge

Of my eating disorder among other issues.

She talked with my mother about my Dance with Death ballet

And they decided to send me away.

 

On June first I arrived

In another state, as prescribed.

I had flown alone for the second time ever.

A stranger was there to take me.

When this nightmare is over, please wake me.

 

For three days straight I cried.

Like the groom of a runaway bride.

My ideas for summer were all but ruined.

And I planned for school in the autumn,

But my doctors thought that’d be a problem.

 

It was through this experience that I realized—

Though we can get help and be advised,

We must do the work ourselves.

People can support you,

And the good ones in life sure do.

 

But they can’t be the teeth that chew your food.

They can’t be the medication that alters your mood.

It won’t be easy, and it sure won’t be fun.

This path that we tread

Is harder than they had ever said.

 

Why did no one tell us?

Why did no one think to discuss

How the soft yarn of childhood knits a knotty, scratchy sweater?

And we wear that around

Like our own little crowns.