The Journey

The voices shout their bad advice, and I'm finding it hard not to listen. A wise friend said, "You are only going to relapse if you allow yourself to relapse." I'm in charge. I have choices. I tend to forget that, and the eating disorder is all too happy to take over, stealing my life. Restricting what I eat gives me the comforting illusion of safety. I can't control the brain tumor that is growing inside of my husband, but I can control my own body. The eating disorder numbs all of those scary feelings, and I'm afraid to let it go. I know what I need to do. If I can reach out, letting go of the silence, I can find my voice again.

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late enough,

and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world, determined to do

the only thing you could do

--determined to save

the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver