twenty-one

tw: weight, disordered eating, anxiety, depression.

you spend your whole life fighting silent battles,

that are now manifesting physically. you build 

mental cages so high; you trap yourself inside. 

you develop so much anxiety, that it feels like a permanent 

tremor in your hands, a constant irregular beat of your heart. 

you carry your problems and tragedies so elegantly, 

that at some point the ache in your bones and the darkness 

that bleeds under your eyes become your defining characteristics. 

they’ll ask your mom about how your clothing now seems 

like it’s borrowed, and she’ll laugh and say it’s just a new diet.

and how can you explain that you’re so full of emptiness 

that you can’t stomach the thought of food most of the time. 

or how sometimes you break down in the middle of the night 

when no one is watching as you desperately try to fill the void 

with whatever food you can find only to cry about it later.

they’ll complain about how you leave hair everywhere, 

but they’ll never ask you if you’re doing okay. 

the truth is: you're not.

you lose pieces of yourself with every handful of strands,

and as your hair gets thinner, so does your will to 

wake up in the morning.

you’ll complain about how your bones feel heavy, or how 

your body feels weaker, and you’ll get told to give yourself a break, 

but you don’t know what it feels like to stop and breathe.

you feel like you’re 12 and 52 years old simultaneously,

and perhaps it is because you grew up too fast 

and never learned how to heal. 

you are 21 when you’re told you’re useless because

you can’t drive, because you can’t help out more, 

because you haven’t graduated yet.

you are 21 when your body decides it has had enough 

of carrying you. and you’re 21 when the doctor tells you 

that your hair loss is caused by long-term stress 

and that you're tearing your own body apart.

you are 21 when you develop insomnia that keeps you up 

for hours on end, staring at the ceiling in your room as 

the night breaks to dawn and your alarm rings loudly in your ear.

you are 21 when you start doubting yourself again, 

and you’re 21 when you’re told you think too much 

even if it feels like your anxiety will kill you. 

you are 21 when you tell someone you think you’re 

depressed, and they say that is simply not possible. 

you are 21 when you question how much is too much, 

and if this is all worth it. you're 21 when you fantasize 

about goodbyes and new beginnings.

you are 21 when you feel like you’re alone, 

and you are 21 when you still question the hands that 

willingly hold yours as you cry and break because you 

never imagined that type of kindness for yourself.

you’re only 21. 

you’re only 21. 

you’re only 21. 

but, 

you were only 18, when you stopped eating

you were only 15, when you stopped feeling 

you were only 12, when you started breaking.

-hammie

5:26 am