Poison by Amanda M.

“The air I’m breathing is toxic. As soon as it enters through my nasal airways, as it goes down my esophagus entering into my lungs, it turns into poison. Filling up the emptiness, the hallow spaces in my stomach. My chest. My heart. My veins. It’s as pure as innocence of a child at first. Until it meets my thoughts. Until it meets my inner demons. As soon as it touches me. As soon as it enters me. The pure air never leaves pure again as I exhale. It has been poisoned. I have poisoned it. And I am filled with sorrow and panic when I feel the air fluctuating through my lungs. My body is working so hard to keep itself alive. While my mind is trying to kill itself. It’s quite the irony you see. Both ends fight just as hard as the other but I feel both ends exhausting more and more at each end of each day. It’s a race to see who’s going to get to the finish line first. One step in front of the other.”

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Christmas Poem for Momma

 

It’s not all the times

when I hear children laughing,

watch families embracing

across a wintry park

or see lovers holding hands

in a busy cafe

that makes me miss you most.

It’s not all the times

when I hear a sad song,

your song

any song

that makes me miss you most.

It’s every time

that I want to

reach out and tell you

how much I love you

or simply that

you’re my angel

that’s when I miss you most.

©2015 Nikki DuBose

In honor of our late mother, Sandy Cargile.

We love and miss you mom.

Love,

Nikki and Anthony.

 

Supporting Others in Recovery from Bulimia Through a Mentoring Program

“If it weren’t for the continuous support of my online mentor, Monica, I’d probably be dead. After seventeen years of binge eating, bulimia and anorexia, I’d blown through all the money I had made as a successful fashion model. For most of my adult life I didn’t have insurance, and receiving care at a treatment center appeared to be out of the question. When my anorexia and bulimia were at their worst, I was afraid to continue showing my face in twelve-step meetings, so I sought help online.

 

Online. I felt hopeless – could this possibly work? I prayed as I spilled out my soul in the message to a Christian group and hit the “send” button, and surprisingly, within a few hours, I had a response. Not only was Monica understanding, but her words were infused with love and confidence. She had faith in my recovery, no questions asked.”

Read more on Eating Disorder Hope.