hospitalising the eating disorder

Walking through the fobbed locked door unsure of what’s to come.
Crying as you walk the stairs, shaking with your mum.
Paper work to body search, they take all that you own.
Lock away your belts and shoes, take the camera off your phone.
Told about the rules and all the things you shouldn’t do,
But not one person realises that they’re overwhelming you.
Parents have to leave the ward and drive that dreaded drive,
Feeling like they’ve let you down, but at least you’re still alive. 
You’ll settle in quite quickly if the patient group are nice. 
They’ll tell you all the ins and outs and give you some advice.
But quickly it gets harder, and reality sinks right in.
For all this time you had the choice to let your ED win.
But now that’s ripped away from you, it’s been taken out your hands
And now you’re punished if you shake or become the one who stands.
Time it moves so slowly, and you feel yourself disappear.
You lose the sense of who you are to the screams and tears and fear.
Days become repetitive and structures all you know.
Medication, groups support, you just run with the polluted flow.
You knock upon the office door asking for the phone
Just to call a family friend to feel not so alone.
Walking in to the dining room with tears slashed in your eye
Wondering if you want to actually ‘grow some balls’ and try.  
The sitters they will prompt you, to pick up the fork and eat. 
But every single ounce of you will want to get off your seat,
Storm out of the torture bar and be free from all it serves
Cut the growing flesh from bones that stick out and mask your curves.
But there is no where you can run, for every action has a price.
You can do it with the easy route or the way which isn’t nice.
Not nice doesn’t quite cut it, for the darkness is too deep.
It doesn’t just appear at night when you’re meant to try and sleep.
You’ll be held under a section forced to stay against your will,
Have a tube stuck down your noise and told to calm down with a pill. 
Bruises will appear upon your wrists from being held
As you’ll not be able to resist the urges to do what your parents dwelled. 
Banging your poor head upon the corner of a wall 
For the guilt just gets too damn heavy every time you’re feeling full.
This goes on for a while but it feels like all you know,
For you’ve erased all the joy and laughs from the time when you did grow.
But one day it just breaks you for you can’t take it anymore,
All you want to do is pack your bags and leave the floor.
But you know that they won’t let you for you’re still on NG plan
and you’ll still requiring restrains and do the things they always ban.
So finally you understand that there are things you need to do,
You sit down with your key worker to talk everything right through.
You come up with a plan but one you might just meet this time
for in the past you’ve always failed to walk the walk or climb the climb.
It may seem like it has too many steps before the end
And you aren’t sure if you’re ready for what waits around the bend.
But honestly you can not stand the thought of losing more
Of your precious time  you’ve lost to this awful ashen war.
So part of you says fuck it and you choose to listen in,
For this is going to be the war that one day you will win.
So the plan it goes ahead and you share it with the needed staff,
You share it to the patients and some of them just laugh.
So many times you’ve tried to fight and failed in the past 
That it’s hard for them to see you making progress that actually lasts.
6 weeks have gone by now and you’ve got off 1:1,
Which is something even your consultant thought never could be done.
12 weeks and you’re eating everything you are rightly prescribed, 
For you no longer wish to lose your life as your body is so deprived.
5 months and you’re getting to leave to stay within your home,
You get to sit with your mum and dad, you’re not longer all alone.
9 months and you’ve done it, the plan it really worked.
You proved all the haters wrong and said fuck your to the smirks.
You pack your bags, gather your things, and hand out notes of thanks,
You’re congratulated for all you’ve done, fought the fight and walked the planks.
You share tears of pure relief with the staff who got through through,
realising that they’re the ones who gave life back into you.
You feel scared and just quite shy of turning around and asking to stay,
But you know in order to recover for good, to make the illness go away,
You need to work on getting well in the place where you will thrive,
You need to be able to cope at home to keep yourself alive.
So you give out hugs and receive hugs too, and say you’re finally goodbyes.
You say you’ll never forget your friends as you look into there eyes.
Now it’s time to leave the ward, to ignore the dread and doubt,
Again you walk through the fobbed doors but this time you’re walking out.
You smile with the sign of the hospitals company name,
Acting as though this isn’t the place which housed all of your pain.
Seat belts on, engine roars, you drive out of the gate,
And finally you’re on your way to all the things which do await.
Everyday you think about you’re time locked up inside,
But damn are you so happy that you have left that place behind