She lies there frozen, unable to move. Her mind has paralyzed her.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Over and over they repeat in her head. She says them to prevent herself from wishing she was dead.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Every minute she imagines herself expanding; the fat appearing in bubbles. Growing and growing. She feels like she is never going to stop getting fatter. Fatter, fatter, fatter. She can’t stop thinking.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

She sits outside her psychiatrist’s office while he’s on the phone. He didn’t close his door and she can hear him speaking.

He’s talking about you. He’s saying you don’t have the resilience, that you might never get over the self-esteem issue. They think you’re hopeless. They’re right.

She starts panicking. She wants to leave; to say the hell with it and never come back. Instead she goes inside. He barely lets her speak.

“You’ve been seeing therapists, counselors, doctors and you’ve been in treatment for 5 months, but it doesn’t seem to be helping you. Nothing is getting much better. You are on this emotional roller coaster and you never seem to be able to be okay for any significant stretch of time. You’re either not eating or bingeing and you have these really low lows.”

Thoughts start rushing through her head, “I knew he didn’t want to treat me anymore. He is giving up on me. No one wants to help me. I don’t listen to them. I’m not getting better like they want me to. I want to just go away.”

“It’s like you’re not getting the support you need. You need something more along the lines of a crisis intervention team, or a day program. In addition, your counselor and I will be away most of the summer. You’re going to need something more concrete. I would like to call your counselor, talk to my colleagues here and speak with your therapist at the treatment center within the next two days and figure out what will happen as we move forward … if that’s okay with you.”

She doesn’t even know if he’s asking a question. It seems as though he’s made up his mind for the both of them. He decided what she’s going to do without even asking her. She sits there confused, anxious and sad. She is back to where she was. Not eating and being bossed around. No one asking what she wanted, how she felt, or what was wrong. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything. How could they just keep taking things from her? Making plans and assuming they knew what was best for her?

“I guess I can’t even make my own decisions anymore,” she whispers.

I’ve been struggling. I’ve been struggling with my mind, my body, my weight, and my wanting to recover. I want recovery. I really do, but I can’t seem to get myself to care enough to try. All I wan…

(Source: strengthtodance)

The birds they sing.

The wind it howls.

The girl sits down and smiles.

the worst

two words 

disordered people

will ever

hear whispered

deep in

their mind:

“I’m back”

I need help

I’m not okay

I don’t know what to say

.

I can’t ask for help

No one hears my screams

I’m buried deep inside my cries

.

My eyes stay dry

My voice is still

I pretend the world is fine

(Source: strengthtodance)

I don’t want to remember.

I don’t want the sadness.

I don’t want the world to see me.

I don’t want to cry.

I don’t want to hurt anymore.

I just want it to stop.

(Source: strengthtodance)

She wakes up and everything hurts. She’s sick again and doesn’t want to move. She remembers how she used to love being sick. Being sick meant that she didn’t have to eat. She knows she should though because she hasn’t eaten in days.

“I just really don’t want to feel this terrible right now.”

She gets up to answer the door and has to sit down again. She sends the visitor off and closes the door. It comes over her like waves crashing into rocks. She feels the buzz and darkness throughout her whole body. The hallway to her room gets longer and she doesn’t think she will make it. She pushes open the door and falls onto her bed just missing the floor. Her heart is pounding. 

She wakes up and her head is killing her. She knows she needs to eat. She goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There is nothing she can consume. She tries to eat some fruit, but doesn’t manage to eat very much. 

She goes back to sit on her bed with her head in her knees, pulling her legs in tight.

“I can’t do this. I feel horrible and there is nothing I can get myself to eat. I can’t eat anything. Everything scares me. I’m afraid of how afraid I am of food. What am I going to do?”

As the day goes on she gets sicker and sicker. She calls her father.

“Dad, I think I need to go to the hospital.”

She arrives in the emergency room and everything is hot. She’s sweating and dizzy. The nurse takes her pressure and heart rate. 164 bpm. Her heart rate keeps spiking higher. 

“My heart feels like it’s pounding”

“Come over to the stretcher dear and lie down”

They pull her into ambulatory care. She gets connected to machines, her blood is taken, an EKG is ordered and she sees a doctor within minutes.

“They brought you back here because your heart rate is too high and we need to bring it down now. You said you’ve been sick for two weeks. Have you been eating?”

“I’ve been eating but not much. I haven’t had an appetite.”

She is only telling a partial lie. She has been too afraid to eat. She’s afraid of almost everything now. She panics if she has to eat anything other than toast and crackers. She doesn’t tell them that.

“It’s likely you are very dehydrated so we’re going to put you on fluids and check back with you when we get your test results.” 

Her mind is racing. She was never supposed to be in the emergency room for anything that had to do with her eating disorder. It was her eating disorder that exacerbated everything else. She would have been fine if she had nourished herself back to health.

You fat pig. Look at yourself. Are you happy now? All these doctors know you have an eating disorder, but when they look at you all they see is fat. They are laughing at you and you can’t even see it. They are going to put bags and bags of saline in you. They are going to swell you up like a balloon and make you fatter. Stupid, stupid girl. You should be smarter next time.

She drops her head and whispers ”I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

(Source: strengthtodance)

Marya Hornbacher

(Source: strengthtodance)

Silent whispers whirl around
Others tread on fragile ground
Cold arms begin to suffocate
Once they do there is no escape
Words of others with no meaning
Makes it hard to keep on eating
Sadness steals what was regained
Crushing anything that still remained

(Source: strengthtodance)

And again it begins.

It returns without a care in the world.

To destroy what was left.

(Source: strengthtodance)

(Source: strengthtodance)

She lies there frozen, unable to move. Her mind has paralyzed her.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Over and over they repeat in her head. She says them to prevent herself from wishing she was dead.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Every minute she imagines herself expanding; the fat appearing in bubbles. Growing and growing. She feels like she is never going to stop getting fatter. Fatter, fatter, fatter. She can’t stop thinking.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

She sits outside her psychiatrist’s office while he’s on the phone. He didn’t close his door and she can hear him speaking.

He’s talking about you. He’s saying you don’t have the resilience, that you might never get over the self-esteem issue. They think you’re hopeless. They’re right.

She starts panicking. She wants to leave; to say the hell with it and never come back. Instead she goes inside. He barely lets her speak.

“You’ve been seeing therapists, counselors, doctors and you’ve been in treatment for 5 months, but it doesn’t seem to be helping you. Nothing is getting much better. You are on this emotional roller coaster and you never seem to be able to be okay for any significant stretch of time. You’re either not eating or bingeing and you have these really low lows.”

Thoughts start rushing through her head, “I knew he didn’t want to treat me anymore. He is giving up on me. No one wants to help me. I don’t listen to them. I’m not getting better like they want me to. I want to just go away.”

“It’s like you’re not getting the support you need. You need something more along the lines of a crisis intervention team, or a day program. In addition, your counselor and I will be away most of the summer. You’re going to need something more concrete. I would like to call your counselor, talk to my colleagues here and speak with your therapist at the treatment center within the next two days and figure out what will happen as we move forward … if that’s okay with you.”

She doesn’t even know if he’s asking a question. It seems as though he’s made up his mind for the both of them. He decided what she’s going to do without even asking her. She sits there confused, anxious and sad. She is back to where she was. Not eating and being bossed around. No one asking what she wanted, how she felt, or what was wrong. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything. How could they just keep taking things from her? Making plans and assuming they knew what was best for her?

“I guess I can’t even make my own decisions anymore,” she whispers.

I’ve been struggling. I’ve been struggling with my mind, my body, my weight, and my wanting to recover. I want recovery. I really do, but I can’t seem to get myself to care enough to try. All I wan…

(Source: strengthtodance)

The birds they sing.

The wind it howls.

The girl sits down and smiles.

the worst

two words 

disordered people

will ever

hear whispered

deep in

their mind:

“I’m back”

I need help

I’m not okay

I don’t know what to say

.

I can’t ask for help

No one hears my screams

I’m buried deep inside my cries

.

My eyes stay dry

My voice is still

I pretend the world is fine

(Source: strengthtodance)

I don’t want to remember.

I don’t want the sadness.

I don’t want the world to see me.

I don’t want to cry.

I don’t want to hurt anymore.

I just want it to stop.

(Source: strengthtodance)

She wakes up and everything hurts. She’s sick again and doesn’t want to move. She remembers how she used to love being sick. Being sick meant that she didn’t have to eat. She knows she should though because she hasn’t eaten in days.

“I just really don’t want to feel this terrible right now.”

She gets up to answer the door and has to sit down again. She sends the visitor off and closes the door. It comes over her like waves crashing into rocks. She feels the buzz and darkness throughout her whole body. The hallway to her room gets longer and she doesn’t think she will make it. She pushes open the door and falls onto her bed just missing the floor. Her heart is pounding. 

She wakes up and her head is killing her. She knows she needs to eat. She goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There is nothing she can consume. She tries to eat some fruit, but doesn’t manage to eat very much. 

She goes back to sit on her bed with her head in her knees, pulling her legs in tight.

“I can’t do this. I feel horrible and there is nothing I can get myself to eat. I can’t eat anything. Everything scares me. I’m afraid of how afraid I am of food. What am I going to do?”

As the day goes on she gets sicker and sicker. She calls her father.

“Dad, I think I need to go to the hospital.”

She arrives in the emergency room and everything is hot. She’s sweating and dizzy. The nurse takes her pressure and heart rate. 164 bpm. Her heart rate keeps spiking higher. 

“My heart feels like it’s pounding”

“Come over to the stretcher dear and lie down”

They pull her into ambulatory care. She gets connected to machines, her blood is taken, an EKG is ordered and she sees a doctor within minutes.

“They brought you back here because your heart rate is too high and we need to bring it down now. You said you’ve been sick for two weeks. Have you been eating?”

“I’ve been eating but not much. I haven’t had an appetite.”

She is only telling a partial lie. She has been too afraid to eat. She’s afraid of almost everything now. She panics if she has to eat anything other than toast and crackers. She doesn’t tell them that.

“It’s likely you are very dehydrated so we’re going to put you on fluids and check back with you when we get your test results.” 

Her mind is racing. She was never supposed to be in the emergency room for anything that had to do with her eating disorder. It was her eating disorder that exacerbated everything else. She would have been fine if she had nourished herself back to health.

You fat pig. Look at yourself. Are you happy now? All these doctors know you have an eating disorder, but when they look at you all they see is fat. They are laughing at you and you can’t even see it. They are going to put bags and bags of saline in you. They are going to swell you up like a balloon and make you fatter. Stupid, stupid girl. You should be smarter next time.

She drops her head and whispers ”I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

(Source: strengthtodance)

Marya Hornbacher

(Source: strengthtodance)

Silent whispers whirl around
Others tread on fragile ground
Cold arms begin to suffocate
Once they do there is no escape
Words of others with no meaning
Makes it hard to keep on eating
Sadness steals what was regained
Crushing anything that still remained

(Source: strengthtodance)

And again it begins.

It returns without a care in the world.

To destroy what was left.

(Source: strengthtodance)

(Source: strengthtodance)

She lies there frozen, unable to move. Her mind has paralyzed her.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Over and over they repeat in her head. She says them to prevent herself from wishing she was dead.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Every minute she imagines herself expanding; the fat appearing in bubbles. Growing and growing. She feels like she is never going to stop getting fatter. Fatter, fatter, fatter. She can’t stop thinking.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

She sits outside her psychiatrist’s office while he’s on the phone. He didn’t close his door and she can hear him speaking.

He’s talking about you. He’s saying you don’t have the resilience, that you might never get over the self-esteem issue. They think you’re hopeless. They’re right.

She starts panicking. She wants to leave; to say the hell with it and never come back. Instead she goes inside. He barely lets her speak.

“You’ve been seeing therapists, counselors, doctors and you’ve been in treatment for 5 months, but it doesn’t seem to be helping you. Nothing is getting much better. You are on this emotional roller coaster and you never seem to be able to be okay for any significant stretch of time. You’re either not eating or bingeing and you have these really low lows.”

Thoughts start rushing through her head, “I knew he didn’t want to treat me anymore. He is giving up on me. No one wants to help me. I don’t listen to them. I’m not getting better like they want me to. I want to just go away.”

“It’s like you’re not getting the support you need. You need something more along the lines of a crisis intervention team, or a day program. In addition, your counselor and I will be away most of the summer. You’re going to need something more concrete. I would like to call your counselor, talk to my colleagues here and speak with your therapist at the treatment center within the next two days and figure out what will happen as we move forward … if that’s okay with you.”

She doesn’t even know if he’s asking a question. It seems as though he’s made up his mind for the both of them. He decided what she’s going to do without even asking her. She sits there confused, anxious and sad. She is back to where she was. Not eating and being bossed around. No one asking what she wanted, how she felt, or what was wrong. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything. How could they just keep taking things from her? Making plans and assuming they knew what was best for her?

“I guess I can’t even make my own decisions anymore,” she whispers.

I’ve been struggling. I’ve been struggling with my mind, my body, my weight, and my wanting to recover. I want recovery. I really do, but I can’t seem to get myself to care enough to try. All I wan…

(Source: strengthtodance)

The birds they sing.

The wind it howls.

The girl sits down and smiles.

the worst

two words 

disordered people

will ever

hear whispered

deep in

their mind:

“I’m back”

I need help

I’m not okay

I don’t know what to say

.

I can’t ask for help

No one hears my screams

I’m buried deep inside my cries

.

My eyes stay dry

My voice is still

I pretend the world is fine

(Source: strengthtodance)

I don’t want to remember.

I don’t want the sadness.

I don’t want the world to see me.

I don’t want to cry.

I don’t want to hurt anymore.

I just want it to stop.

(Source: strengthtodance)

She wakes up and everything hurts. She’s sick again and doesn’t want to move. She remembers how she used to love being sick. Being sick meant that she didn’t have to eat. She knows she should though because she hasn’t eaten in days.

“I just really don’t want to feel this terrible right now.”

She gets up to answer the door and has to sit down again. She sends the visitor off and closes the door. It comes over her like waves crashing into rocks. She feels the buzz and darkness throughout her whole body. The hallway to her room gets longer and she doesn’t think she will make it. She pushes open the door and falls onto her bed just missing the floor. Her heart is pounding. 

She wakes up and her head is killing her. She knows she needs to eat. She goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There is nothing she can consume. She tries to eat some fruit, but doesn’t manage to eat very much. 

She goes back to sit on her bed with her head in her knees, pulling her legs in tight.

“I can’t do this. I feel horrible and there is nothing I can get myself to eat. I can’t eat anything. Everything scares me. I’m afraid of how afraid I am of food. What am I going to do?”

As the day goes on she gets sicker and sicker. She calls her father.

“Dad, I think I need to go to the hospital.”

She arrives in the emergency room and everything is hot. She’s sweating and dizzy. The nurse takes her pressure and heart rate. 164 bpm. Her heart rate keeps spiking higher. 

“My heart feels like it’s pounding”

“Come over to the stretcher dear and lie down”

They pull her into ambulatory care. She gets connected to machines, her blood is taken, an EKG is ordered and she sees a doctor within minutes.

“They brought you back here because your heart rate is too high and we need to bring it down now. You said you’ve been sick for two weeks. Have you been eating?”

“I’ve been eating but not much. I haven’t had an appetite.”

She is only telling a partial lie. She has been too afraid to eat. She’s afraid of almost everything now. She panics if she has to eat anything other than toast and crackers. She doesn’t tell them that.

“It’s likely you are very dehydrated so we’re going to put you on fluids and check back with you when we get your test results.” 

Her mind is racing. She was never supposed to be in the emergency room for anything that had to do with her eating disorder. It was her eating disorder that exacerbated everything else. She would have been fine if she had nourished herself back to health.

You fat pig. Look at yourself. Are you happy now? All these doctors know you have an eating disorder, but when they look at you all they see is fat. They are laughing at you and you can’t even see it. They are going to put bags and bags of saline in you. They are going to swell you up like a balloon and make you fatter. Stupid, stupid girl. You should be smarter next time.

She drops her head and whispers ”I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

(Source: strengthtodance)

Marya Hornbacher

(Source: strengthtodance)

Silent whispers whirl around
Others tread on fragile ground
Cold arms begin to suffocate
Once they do there is no escape
Words of others with no meaning
Makes it hard to keep on eating
Sadness steals what was regained
Crushing anything that still remained

(Source: strengthtodance)

And again it begins.

It returns without a care in the world.

To destroy what was left.

(Source: strengthtodance)

(Source: strengthtodance)

She lies there frozen, unable to move. Her mind has paralyzed her.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Over and over they repeat in her head. She says them to prevent herself from wishing she was dead.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

Every minute she imagines herself expanding; the fat appearing in bubbles. Growing and growing. She feels like she is never going to stop getting fatter. Fatter, fatter, fatter. She can’t stop thinking.

5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100

She sits outside her psychiatrist’s office while he’s on the phone. He didn’t close his door and she can hear him speaking.

He’s talking about you. He’s saying you don’t have the resilience, that you might never get over the self-esteem issue. They think you’re hopeless. They’re right.

She starts panicking. She wants to leave; to say the hell with it and never come back. Instead she goes inside. He barely lets her speak.

“You’ve been seeing therapists, counselors, doctors and you’ve been in treatment for 5 months, but it doesn’t seem to be helping you. Nothing is getting much better. You are on this emotional roller coaster and you never seem to be able to be okay for any significant stretch of time. You’re either not eating or bingeing and you have these really low lows.”

Thoughts start rushing through her head, “I knew he didn’t want to treat me anymore. He is giving up on me. No one wants to help me. I don’t listen to them. I’m not getting better like they want me to. I want to just go away.”

“It’s like you’re not getting the support you need. You need something more along the lines of a crisis intervention team, or a day program. In addition, your counselor and I will be away most of the summer. You’re going to need something more concrete. I would like to call your counselor, talk to my colleagues here and speak with your therapist at the treatment center within the next two days and figure out what will happen as we move forward … if that’s okay with you.”

She doesn’t even know if he’s asking a question. It seems as though he’s made up his mind for the both of them. He decided what she’s going to do without even asking her. She sits there confused, anxious and sad. She is back to where she was. Not eating and being bossed around. No one asking what she wanted, how she felt, or what was wrong. She didn’t even get the chance to say anything. How could they just keep taking things from her? Making plans and assuming they knew what was best for her?

“I guess I can’t even make my own decisions anymore,” she whispers.

I’ve been struggling. I’ve been struggling with my mind, my body, my weight, and my wanting to recover. I want recovery. I really do, but I can’t seem to get myself to care enough to try. All I wan…

(Source: strengthtodance)

The birds they sing.

The wind it howls.

The girl sits down and smiles.

the worst

two words 

disordered people

will ever

hear whispered

deep in

their mind:

“I’m back”

I need help

I’m not okay

I don’t know what to say

.

I can’t ask for help

No one hears my screams

I’m buried deep inside my cries

.

My eyes stay dry

My voice is still

I pretend the world is fine

(Source: strengthtodance)

I don’t want to remember.

I don’t want the sadness.

I don’t want the world to see me.

I don’t want to cry.

I don’t want to hurt anymore.

I just want it to stop.

(Source: strengthtodance)

She wakes up and everything hurts. She’s sick again and doesn’t want to move. She remembers how she used to love being sick. Being sick meant that she didn’t have to eat. She knows she should though because she hasn’t eaten in days.

“I just really don’t want to feel this terrible right now.”

She gets up to answer the door and has to sit down again. She sends the visitor off and closes the door. It comes over her like waves crashing into rocks. She feels the buzz and darkness throughout her whole body. The hallway to her room gets longer and she doesn’t think she will make it. She pushes open the door and falls onto her bed just missing the floor. Her heart is pounding. 

She wakes up and her head is killing her. She knows she needs to eat. She goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There is nothing she can consume. She tries to eat some fruit, but doesn’t manage to eat very much. 

She goes back to sit on her bed with her head in her knees, pulling her legs in tight.

“I can’t do this. I feel horrible and there is nothing I can get myself to eat. I can’t eat anything. Everything scares me. I’m afraid of how afraid I am of food. What am I going to do?”

As the day goes on she gets sicker and sicker. She calls her father.

“Dad, I think I need to go to the hospital.”

She arrives in the emergency room and everything is hot. She’s sweating and dizzy. The nurse takes her pressure and heart rate. 164 bpm. Her heart rate keeps spiking higher. 

“My heart feels like it’s pounding”

“Come over to the stretcher dear and lie down”

They pull her into ambulatory care. She gets connected to machines, her blood is taken, an EKG is ordered and she sees a doctor within minutes.

“They brought you back here because your heart rate is too high and we need to bring it down now. You said you’ve been sick for two weeks. Have you been eating?”

“I’ve been eating but not much. I haven’t had an appetite.”

She is only telling a partial lie. She has been too afraid to eat. She’s afraid of almost everything now. She panics if she has to eat anything other than toast and crackers. She doesn’t tell them that.

“It’s likely you are very dehydrated so we’re going to put you on fluids and check back with you when we get your test results.” 

Her mind is racing. She was never supposed to be in the emergency room for anything that had to do with her eating disorder. It was her eating disorder that exacerbated everything else. She would have been fine if she had nourished herself back to health.

You fat pig. Look at yourself. Are you happy now? All these doctors know you have an eating disorder, but when they look at you all they see is fat. They are laughing at you and you can’t even see it. They are going to put bags and bags of saline in you. They are going to swell you up like a balloon and make you fatter. Stupid, stupid girl. You should be smarter next time.

She drops her head and whispers ”I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

(Source: strengthtodance)

Marya Hornbacher

(Source: strengthtodance)

Silent whispers whirl around
Others tread on fragile ground
Cold arms begin to suffocate
Once they do there is no escape
Words of others with no meaning
Makes it hard to keep on eating
Sadness steals what was regained
Crushing anything that still remained

(Source: strengthtodance)

And again it begins.

It returns without a care in the world.

To destroy what was left.

(Source: strengthtodance)

(Source: strengthtodance)