Spread your wings, I say, in support of my (& our) expression as human(s):
1997, late junior year in high school - 16 year old me:
Mama I have failed you, I am disgustingly bloated.
Everything I ate, Came up and floated.
Then I had more, unable to stop.
It’s very unpleasant,
But it will not drop.
It’s just the same As the ten pounds of food
I cannot throw it up I cannot keep running away. I have deep-seated needs That remain unfulfilled Bulimia will not go away Till my true feelings have spilled
I am bursting with hate, I am a self-centered bitch, I envy perfection, I feel inferior, I need your love, I long for what I cannot do, I live for someone else's life, I envy the perfect innocence,
The endless smiles, the far reaching talent, the unending love, I envy my sister.
I hate the gluttony,
So why do I do it?
It is my fault.
And I hate me for it.
I live for approval and acceptance. I think that food, and vomit, and toilets, don't care. They don't care what I look like, how well I perform, If I have a boyfriend,
If I run well in track, If I listen and give sympathy, If I care, If I love, If I nap, Or if I "succeed". I think I lost myself,
Somewhere along the way. I used to care about everything, About every little day. All of the sudden, I feel like a whore. Like I've given me all away, and I'm not Megan anymore. At times I think I feel love, for everyone I see. But, that is not possible, for I can’t even love me. Dig deep inside of me, You can dig the deepest hole. Look as hard as you'd like, But you'll never find my soul. I dropped it some place, I left it somewhere. You can see it in my face,
Or in my empty stare. I do not want sympathy, I do not want sorrow. I want love right now, And I want more tomorrow. I want you to be proud, I want to be proud.
I want to feel spirit, I want to be wild, But whenever I near it, I remember the child.
I remember her vividly, Always right there. While you both fought lividly, And poor brother would glare. I would think it and think it. Ten million times more. But instead of releasing it, My heart tore.
Much like the ripping tightness of my stomach, After a rampage. The vomit relieves me, Though it causes damage. It comforts the girl, Who still lives inside. Still ashamed of herself, Still desperate to hide. Still praying for the power to speak, The power to be loved, Or to give love a peak. I don't know what to do, I wish you could tell me. There's something about you.
You mesmerize me,
With your beautiful face. Your infinite knowledge, and your sureness in place.
I want to be good. I want to be someone real. I want to be your Princess, Or that's just how I feel.
Love is adoration. Love is admiration. Love is security. Love is Life.
Mama, answer me this, Do you love me this way? Will you love me forever? Or is this just for today? Do you really love me? Or do you love the little girl, Who can go through hell, But still look like a pearl? Mama I love you with all that I have. I cannot say what I feel, But I love you. Please love me too. I want you to hold me, To love me forever. I want you to love me, From now until never.
My heart is churning, With treacherous feelings, With disheartening thoughts, About scandalous dealings. I am beyond confusion,
Yet it is all an illusion. To the depths of the oceans, Past all of the booze, When we stop living his life, And live as we choose. Past the cheats and the lies, When the evil in us dies. Past the binges and the purges, We see the glossed over urges. Past the cocaine and the weed, Lies the deep-seated need. There are desires for love, For passion and for life. And we strive to achieve them, Ironically with a knife. Instead of seeing, All of the things that we lose,
We live for our patterns,
And continue to abuse.
*********
This poem came through just before I was hospitalized for the first time.
Less to do with my mum, more to do with my own process... the pattern of responses I saw manifesting as me... as my life. Mum has always been our caregiver and our protector. Living and loving her best. And I do not envy my sis at this point. I love her like... she is my child and a guiding light--a source of grounding and deep connection.
This poem is to express what was. Some version of it playing out in real time... all of these years later. Different characters, different lines but the same subtext. So I lovingly encourage myself to fly, B*tch, fly free. Speak as you want and will. Say it and love it for it has shaped how I show up today... where I continue to learn, to practice and to deepen and extend contact with the Real.
Thank you for reading. It is always my hope that we see the universality; the sharedness in our experiences. That we exist together, even when we experience separateness.
My love and tenderness is with your pain. I share too, in your experience of Light.
May we align more and more with freedom.
I love you Mom, Dad, Heidi, Jason, Chris, Eric, Asher and my afore mentioned beloveds in best of the best, my previous loves, my family of origin, my nuclear family at present... and then some. <3
*Obviously b*tch is a term of endearment here (though not in the context of the poem, back then). If you find it offensive, I am not sorry.