The first hour of the morning in the head of an inpatient anorexic

(Note: This poem is not what happened this morning.  This is the average morning, but today was ... different.  Anorexia was no less persistent, but I had more strength.  It felt terrifying being so defiant today ... but good ... I think)

The first hour of the morning in the head of an inpatient anorexic

My eyes slowly open

Adjusting to the light;

Daytime.

I cringe as anorexia pipes up immediately

Don't just lie there

You're being lazy

Get up!

I am so tired

My body feels stiff

I roll over and check the time

7:15am

I've slept in

Get up

Quickly!

I swing my legs out of bed.

After my usual walk up and down the hallway

(to satisfy anorexia’s demands)

I make my bed

Do it properly, walk right around it

You need to burn as many calories as possible

And head down for breakfast.

The nurse hands me the tray

I take it to the table.

Get rid of the sugar

Quick, before she comes in!

As I surreptitiously slip the sugar sachet into my pocket

The door closes behind me

And the nurse makes her way to the table

With her own tray.

She looks at the clock

“Okay girls, we finish at four minutes past eight”.

I begin to slice the skin off my kiwifruit

Take more of the kiwifruit off with the skin

Anorexia commands.

I'm too tired not to obey.

Next is my yoghurt

I spoon it from its pottle

Onto my cereal

Leave some in the bottom

I pretend to wipe my fingers

With the serviette

Then stuff it in the pottle

On top of the remaining yoghurt.

The toaster pops

I spread the two sachets of peanut butter

Onto my toast

Anorexia makes sure I leave a small amount

In the corners of the sachet

As much as possible

Without being told to scrape it out.

I slice my toast into four squares

Don’t wipe the knife

And pick up the first

Pick off that bit of crust

I steal a glance at the nurse

Then casually drop the bit of crust

Onto my plate.

More crumbs, more crumbs!

As I munch through

Each of the remaining three squares

I flick off just the right amount of crumbs.

I finish the last square

And realize there’s a big glob of peanut butter on my finger

Don’t eat it

Which I wipe on the serviette.

Now for my cereal the cereal...

I pour the milk over

Leave a little in the bottom of the cup

Then spoon on the prunes

Leave that juice in the container

Don't scrape it out!

And begin to eat.

I get to the bottom of the bowl

And go to scoop out the last spoonful …

Wait! Smear it around the edge of your bowl

I obey

And now there's no last spoonful.

As we walk out of the room with our trays

And put them back on the trolley

I feel the sugar sachet in my pocket

And try to ignore the knawing guilt

And sense of failure

Mixed with anorexia’s satisfaction

In the pit of my stomach.

I walk slowly, somewhat defeated,

Down the long hallway

Back to my room

Faster! Walk faster!