**Trigger** "my silent voice"...writing
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**Trigger** "my silent voice"...writing
| Tue, 11-28-2006 - 11:57am |
My truth...I hear this nagging voice constantly telling me to get it together, don't cry you f**king baby. Don't let them tell you what you can and can not be. What you should and should not do or feel. You tell them you are who you are- if they don't like it, get the hell away.... The voice. It is low, never yelling at me, never in a begging tone. Always steady and calm. Always so sure of herself. I hear her. She sees me. She smiles a lot as if she knows the torute in my heart. I beg her to back off. I beg her to let me cry, let me fall. Still I know I can't let her down. I feel the ever present pain in my belly...and I relax with the pain. I am happy it is there to keep me company. I never talk about it. They sit and try to not ask me why I don't eat. They never tell me my clothes look too baggy or my face looks sunken in....so I keep it up. I watch my son eat and eat with pure bliss and all I can do it smile at his innocence. He doesn't know that his mommy lives vicariously through his feast. I go to bed hungry. I wake up hungry. I listen for the voice telling me "keep going, don't stop now." You've come so far- keep pushing. I do what it right, I resist the bite. I laugh when my friends tell me they want me to eat- "really?" I want to scream..."then why do you constantly talk about being fat?!?!? Why is my boyfriend constantly telling me how beautiful that super model is on TV, how perfect her hair looks or how white her teeth are, or how thin and athletic she looks....why can't he just shut the hell up. Or better yet, notice the hard work I struggle through to make him look at me that way..." I listen for the voice- because she will tell me I am beauitful. She will tell me, as he eats his steak and fries, that I am beyond anything he deserves. I build up anger, but keep silent. My truth is ever present in my silence. I listen for the burn, I listen for the voice, I keep pushing I keep begging....the voice is my own, but one only heard in the silence of my screams. I want free. I want contentment with my image. But that has yet to come...no one hears my voice...my silent screaming...the silence that is killing me...from ever feeling love or bliss. I could tell them, but then what? They'd still be scared and not know what to do. I would still continue on my way...to the silent spot...the silent truth.


Hi maizenbraid, and welcome to the ed board.
Thanks for posting.
~Diana~