Poetry: FULL

April 26, 2018 3 min read

Poetry: FULL

April 26, 2018 3 min read


***This poem was written in late 2016/early 2017 (I can’t quite remember!) when I was at the peak of my disordered eating. Things have improved since then, but I thought that sharing this expression of my experiences might help others who’ve been through something similar feel less alone.***


It’s hard to explain the urge to binge

Stuffing your face

Feeling unhinged


Visit the shop, see the mecca of calories

Losing your willpower

Losing all clarity


And guilt as you hide it at home

Only free to consume everything when alone


Hiding the wrappers so no one can see

The real me

At the bottom of a bag

Losing count of all the sugar you’ve had

The craving to eat is only outweighed

By the tears and the guilt, the aches and the shame


My stomach feels as though it’s tearing in two

My teeth start to hurt

My head starts to throb

Before I know it I’ve eaten the lot


I tell myself I’ll go slowly this time

A snack to keep me going

Keep the ideas flowing

But before I know it

My jaw is moving too fast for my brain

Hand to mouth

Again and again

And again

Till it ends


The bile rises in my throat but that’s not my disorder

I force it back down

My ears start to ring with the sound


Why did you eat that?

Could you be any more fucking greedy?

No wonder you’re fat

No wonder you’re lonely


Who’d love a binger who can’t keep her mouth shut

Who can’t get through the day without turning to food

An endless cycle of sadness and stress

Turns to hunger

Then fullness

Then sadness again


A façade so thick the world will never know

The depths I can reach

How low I can go

Years of self-abuse turn into depression

And darkness


And sexual repression


Killing myself slowly by going past full

But what does it matter when life is really this hard?

And you go through each day

Falling more and more apart?

There must be something better than this?


At the end of the tunnel I can see the light

But it’s going to take discomfort

And frustration

And enough energy to fight

every day of my life

To repress the urge that eats me up inside


On the verge of type 2 that I’ve dreaded the most

I can’t live my life any more as a ghost

So I try

Take baby steps

One mouthful at a time

When I feel the need to binge

I try to remember

It’s my life on the line


There is a way to be free, I think

To not always have to live life on the brink

Of a breakdown, a lapse, of spiralling out of control

And I hope one day

I’ll be able to say

‘I’m fine, not for me, no thanks’

‘I’m full’.


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About Me

Hi! I'm Sophie.

Writer, thinker, often overwhelmed. I like to talk about film, feelings and feminism. Not necessarily in that order.

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