“Love After Love”
by Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
We watched a youtube video by Jon Kabat-Zinn in treatment tonight and he closed with this poem. It really touched me. It seems like a poem about eating disorder recovery in so many ways.
Tonight we also did meal planning. My nutritionist doesn’t seem to think I should be eating the same breakfast, same lunch, same dinner every day. So, we planned out some different meals. We have a sheet for a week’s worth of meals, but I only got through 3 days of meals. I am supposed to finish on my own. I also learned that my breakfasts and lunches weren’t meeting my meal plan. Oops! Well, I know how to fix them now.
In other news, I booked plane tickets to visit southern California in May and my hotel room for a trip to Albuquerque in April!
In group last night, we had to write our song. It had to be our song apart from our eating disorders. We could either write something original, or cut and paste lyrics from a large stack of lyrics. I’m not at all a song writer or poet, and many of the lyrics spoke to me, so I opted to cut and paste. Above is the song I “wrote” (read plagiarized).
The process was hard. It brought up a lot of emotion for me while I was working on it. Then, I had to read it aloud in front of the group (which was pretty large last night) and I had trouble getting through it without tears. I let the tears fall once I finished. It’s very hard for me to be vulnerable. It’s hard for me to be seen. I don’t like the feeling of being seen. The openness of this project overwhelmed me.
Luckily, we had process group right after and I was able to work through what had come up for me and talk through it with the core group (just the two others in my program).
Oh, that reminds me, we get a new person tonight! I’m excited for fresh blood. Each person in our group provides great insight and perspective, so I look forward to gaining even more insight and perspective from a new mind and heart.
The search terms people used to find my blog made a short poem.
I bake cookies
I’d much rather
Eat all the food
You and me both. But only if I could eat it without gaining and without needing to purge.
When I got home, my mom handed me a piece of paper. It had a poem that she had written for me. I want to share it with you.
She stands, wilting in the heat
Breathing heavily, she scans the vast, red, barren land in front of her
She bows her head and sighs
A gentle little breeze brushes her hair against her cheek
As a quiet voice whispers in her ear
I am here
She slowly raises her head and unsteadily ventures on
Each step painfully slow, labored
Her only thought
She struggles on
Devastated by the small progress made
Scanning the horizon, she stops
A gentle breeze arises around her feet
And up from the ground
To brush her cheek and whispers into her empty heart
I am here
As the heat and despair grows
She blindly staggers on her way
Oblivious to anything around her
At last confused, abandoned, lost, defeated
Devoid of all thought
She sinks to the ground
Exhausted and without hope
She puts her head into her hands and sobs
A gentle breeze swirls around her
Filling her warmth
Let it go
I am here