The Decision

The Decision

In a way

I hate that it's my choice

I'm scared

Terrified

That I can't

Make the right one;

To become an inpatient

Feels like the hardest thing

In the world

Like casting off my parachute

When I'm high above ground

Or stepping out across a tightrope

Between two skyscrapers

With no harness.

Yet I know deep down

If I could deal with the panic

The inner turmoil

The desperation

And torturous thoughts

It's my best chance

Of living a life

I can one day look back on

Without regrets;

A life that includes struggles,

Sadness, hardships

And frustrations,

But a life filled with love

And authenticity,

With fullness and purpose.

My mind constantly tells me

It's impossible

Unthinkable, unsafe

I can never do it

All I'll do is fail

Again.

Anyway

What could ultimately fill me

With more purpose

And more security

Than my constant companion

Anorexia?

The companion that will

(and is)

Snatching away my life

Sapping my energy

Eating away at me

Bit by bit,

Leading me to an early grave...

I wish someone

Would just take the decision

Away from me;

Would see I'm not capable

Of making it;

Would tell me

What to do...

And make me do it.

Essentially

It boils right down

To life

Or death...

How do I choose life

When death is reaching out for me

Drawing me in

Like a magnet?