It’s absolutely draining what I am doing to myself.

The hours of pain, Of conflict. Of self loathing

Why can’t I win the war.

I have fought so many battles after all.

Who does this affect? It’s not just me,

The people I love. My friends. My family.

The lies I force myself to tell.

To hide the truth and pretend all is well.

Face to face, I hide it.

Behind my humour and my wit.

I knew I’d be scared about coming back.

Falling in to the same old trap.

And, here I am back where I was.

Feeling just as alone and, just as lost.


Misinterpreted Story

I’m the misinterpreted story

In the winter newspaper

Perverted by the press

Distorted by the reader

I’m the depressing one

That no on really wants to hear

That you feel sorry for

And then forget, ignore

Because I’m not your problem


I’m the discarded story

Littering the floor

Not important enough to keep

Too much both to pick up

I’m the one quietly watching you

Blissfully ignorant of my crying

Watching you in frustration

While you wake, eat and sleep

Without my nightmares


I’m the scrunched up story

Slowly covered by snow

Blocking my view of normal life

Loosing shape and colour

I’m the one disintegrating

Wanting to go unnoticed

But always frightened

Of the loneliness and cold

Numbing camouflage


I’m the hidden story

In the depth of storm

Freezing up and suffocating

Loosing sense and strength

I’m the one pleased to be lost

Giving reason for no attention

Wishing to wither away

With no feeling or redemption

Rather than be uncovered and thrown away


I’m the corroded story

Beyond reading or repair

As the rain beats down on me

Uncovered and blurred

I’m the one blowing aimlessly

In the hissing wind

Not knowing where I’ll land

Or what’ll come of me

With no self control


I’m the old misinterpreted story

Scared of next weeks newspaper

A Carer’s Lost Love?

I am half of a lost love

And I refuse to believe

I can change my wife’s relationship with food

I realise this may come as a shock but

“Happiness comes from within”

Is a lie, and

“being thinner will make you happy”

So in 30 years I will tell my children

They are not the most important thing in Emma’s life.

Her eating disorders will know that

Emma has her priorities straight because


Is more important than


So experts tell me

10 years from now I will be celebrating the 5th anniversary of my divorce

I do not concede that

I will live in a relationship of my own making

In my future

Self destruction will be the norm

No longer can it be said that

I care about this relationship

It will be evident that

My attitude is apathetic and lethargic

It is foolish to presume that

There is hope for us

We can’t hope to beat this eating disorder together

I would be lying to you if I said that

This marriage has a great future

That reality can replace body dismorphier

That our lives could be filled with joy

That our children will be happy and healthy

Emma, I am convinced of this because I know you

Self-loathing and selfishness are ingrained in you

Anorexia will grow stronger in you every day and

I refuse to believe under any circumstance that

You will turn things around in the coming years

You have only this destiny

Whether you like it or not


All of this will come true


Unless you choose to reverse it.



I want to run away.


I want to run away,

Far away.

And sing. And dance. And play.

I want to run away from where I am,

Far away to a different land.

To live. To love. To discover who I am.

I want to run away over the mountains and trickling stream,

Far away so that I may dream

And discover things I have never seen.

I want to run away.

And discover life and my way.


The Voice

Please don’t think me mad
When I tell you I have a ‘voice’
It comes and goes.
Giving command of little choice.
Some days it’s calm
And reassuringly cheers.
Other days, it’s angry
And only exasperates my fears.

The ‘voice’ belongs to me,
I manufactured it in my head.
It kept me safe during the day
It protects me in my bed.
Listening to it’s orders
My body I prod and check
Not one inch of fat allowed
No double chins instead of a neck.

With promises of beauty,
Together we step onto the scale.
Have I succeeded and dropped the pounds
Or am I still a big fat whale.
If I disobey its orders
The toilet becomes my fate
And even after being punished,
I still had to restrict what I ate.

When I am well that ‘voice’ ceases
Slowly it disappears
Then so subtly it sneaks back
Bringing with it all my fears.
It’s all about security
As I need it to survive
Yet now I am in recovery
I want to heal and thrive.

My Relationship with Food

My relationship with food where do I begin,
Doesn’t matter which way I turn I’m never going to win!
Either I eat too little and go over the top whilst exercising like mad,
Then Binge on the nearest thing when I panic, feeling rotten and bad!

Counting the calories and keeping an eye on the saturated fat and sugar content,
What bread do I choose from white or brown, why does it matter I scream and vent?
I’m told brown is better as we need bran to fill us up and is healthier than white,
But too much bran is bad for you and as for white who knows, you see my plight?

They say it’s okay to have the occasional treat and snack,
Just make sure all that crap doesn’t give you a heart attack!
Yes it’s fine as long as you’re exercising and burning off all that fat,
Just don’t be idle and sit down on your arse all day and relax!

I’m told by health nurses what to eat and avoid but it differs depending on who I see,
And I’m supposed to guess who’s right, who am I supposed to believe!?
It takes me hours to choose something to eat as I’m so confused,
How do I glean from the different products the healthiest and cheapest to use?

I spend hours in the supermarket looking for healthy meals to cook,
Sometimes a recipe from my Mary Berry’s complete cook book!
I’m told constantly to eat the right thing and to exercise to be healthy,
So I joined a gym, play tennis and swim but I’m not exactly wealthy!

So I muse to myself why do I listen to these so called know it all’s,
When they themselves have issues with food, god these people have such gall!
At least I try to be healthy and keep fit, try not to take it to extreme,
I just wonder who do they think they are, alas it seems to be a recurring theme!

21st June 2012
By J Farquharson

True Courage

Comes from knowing that change is constant;
Involves accepting your limitations;
Is strengthened by believing in your abilities;
Comes from accepting imperfections;
Is needed to embrace all life stages;
Involves honest communication;
Is necessary to admit when you need support;
Knows that everyone makes mistakes, and that’s ok…that’s life;
Looks at the future with open eyes and open arms;
Embraces the sun, the rain and the rainbow.

Lauren’s Poem

When that colourful rainbow turns to black & white,
when you doubt yourself and hide away,
you stop looking to the future and become…
Until you find your path – you believe…
…and that path of belief –
It leads to the rainbow of health, life, happiness, colour.


Thanks to Lauren for giving permission for her poem to feature on our website

Laura’s Poem

This One Is For You
by Laura Nation

This one is for you.
For every day you owned and for every command I obeyed.

For the shadow of your spectre gripping me so tight, I was forced to believe your callous fictions.

For the lies… the only food you allowed me.

For your constant screaming. In private, in public, and in sleep.

For taking every inch of my being… voice, strength and more, and leaving me with a hollow shell, a sharp edged skeleton.

For turning my young body into the ruins of a decaying ancient building.

For all the times you watched me from above hysterical, growing fat of my flesh.

For taking what was mine.

This one is for you.

For inviting me into your world…I hated every second.

For the life you claimed from behind my eyes… I’m claiming it back.

For the friends you said I didn’t need, the ones you said weren’t friends. We are laughing at you right now.

For the cries of help you silenced.

For how angry you would get, and how anxious you made me feel.

For taking my womanhood and making me a child again.

For wrongly telling me that the rules of happiness manifested within appearance.

For the whispers you provided when I looked in your mirrors.

For making me believe that I should be eternally wrong, ugly and sorry.

This is to let you know…

That for what it is worth you can have your identity back.

To let you know how good it felt the day I realised the power to fight was in me.

To let you know that the white light that is now blinding you coal filled eyes from afar, is me, my family and my friends.

To let you know that I ate breakfast today and I enjoyed it.

To let you know that everyday is a struggle, but I will never give up.

This is to show you…

That I am not the brittle one you last saw. In fact you may hardly recognise me.

To show you that my body is changing and however hard it may be to adjust, being healthy is incredible.

To show you my posture right now as I look down upon you with my head held high.

So this is to tell you… that I never want to hear your voice again.

To tell you, that you are not welcome, in fact, you never were.

To tell you and everyone, that I am beginning to like myself inside and out.

To tell you that your company is not required at the meal I enjoy with my loved ones tomorrow.

To tell you that I am winning.

This is to warn you… that now I am stronger I will do everything in my power to stop you intruding upon all the beautiful bodies and souls of the victims you next seek.

This moment is for you…

For you to hear me when I say that the only thing that was ever ugly about me was you.

Laura’s monologue will be performed at the premier of Body Gossip, a new show by Ruth Rogers, celebrating positive body image. Fifteen celebrities will read fifteen monologues written by members of the public to celebrate real bodies and real people. See the Body Gossip website for more info.

Thanks to Ruth and Laura for giving permission for This One Is For You to be reproduced here.