Smoke Rising (A Poem)

Smoke Rising


Pain scrapes against my heart
As I listen...
And no one is there


Inexplicably, smoke rises upward
A life of lies and ruin
I turn and suddenly you are there


It's as if Christ heard
My cries...
But only for one moment


For months cold has seeped
Into my bones
And I curl into a ball


Seeking warmth
Covers wrapped and tucked...
The sudden brush of a thigh


That is not there
Startled awake...
I forget the emptiness


That has invaded
My life
And my soul


Seeking solace
In forbidden places...
And my heart begins


To feel again
Stirrings of emotions
Going places


That I should not go
Unable to stop...
I turn to Christ


But there is no answer
My prayers cry out
To no one


And I long for what
I can never have.

Three years later...

I started this blog exactly three years ago today. Here is what I wrote:

The enemy - Food

So when did food become the enemy?

I look at my plate each morning, noon and night and think - I must eat, because in order to live, I need food. But when I hear people talk about the pleasure of eating, of the joy of creating a new recipe, I just don't get it. I think, why bother? It's all the same, anyway, and I just want to shovel in the bare minimum and get it over with.

No more not eating for me. No more skipping meals or weaseling out of breakfast or eating half a sandwich and giving the other half away (like I did many times in Haiti). But to eat for fun? No way; that just doesn't make any sense to me.

So why am I writing about this very private matter in this very public forum? Because at some point in life, silence must be broken in order for healing to take place. And this is a start.

But eating for pleasure? That's going to take a very long time.

I find it ironic that in many ways, I still feel the same. I started this blog a few months after my first hospitalization for anorexia. I was still sure I was going to nail recovery within a year, and then move on and eliminate this blog.

And yet here I am, three years later.

Someday, I do hope to write that I am fully recovered and I am moving on. I thought it would be easy, but I really didn't know anything. But I do know that being able to write about how I feel has been a true gift, and so have all of you. I want to thank everyone who reads and comments and holds me up. I am eternally grateful for all of the support and the friends I have found through this blog. I literally wouldn't be here without all of you.