My Biggest Fears: Failure and Success

I fight  everyday against myself. My brain is not happy with who I am, yet it is the one making me who I am. Life is a constant war, where one every five battles I win. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I win four out of five, and everything is going well.

This does not mean that I don’t struggle throughout the battles. It is so hard. Yes, I have ammunition. I can self soothe by listening to music. I can deep breathe as long as I need to. This takes away the pain for a little bit. It always seems to come back at the most inconvenient times.

My parents have pointed out that when things are going well for me, my life falls apart. I thrive at college until my body breaks down. I get a job, and all hell breaks loose. There are many more examples of this.

I realize this pattern as well. I try to deny it, but I know it is true. I also know why. Success is a scary concept for me. When I am doing well, I worry that everything is going to fall down, and it does. I know that if I succeed, people are going to expect more of me, and I’ll have to live up to their expectations. This is a very real fear for me. I love getting good grades, or a good opportunity, but I feel pressured to do even more and be expected to be responsible. I hate responsibility, because I feel like I am going to fail.

That is another fear of mine. I am a big perfectionist. It started around second grade. I missed one question on a spelling test, and ending up going home due to an upset stomach caused by anxiety. It only got worse from there. I feel that if I fail, things will never be better, and I will be a failure. I fear I will be nothing.

Being a perfectionist has led to a lot more things than bad grades. I’ve given up on piano, guitar, and piano due to being told I’m good at it, and I then feel like I can’t do any better. This leads to my fears of failure and success. If I keep going, I’ll be expected to do more, and I am afraid I won’t be able to do it. I am told that I am really good, and I quit before I can get any better because I want to make sure the last memory I have is that I am good at it.Perfectionism has also led to body image issues as well. I’ve dealt with starving myself, vomiting up my food, and binging.  This is all because I was told I was fat a few times, and I decided I couldn’t be “perfect” unless I was skinnier. I exercised a lot, and participated in the negative eating behavior I mentioned above. I lost a lot of weight, and was told I looked good, so I kept losing more. I didn’t believe them. I was ugly. I was fat. I was a person who didn’t deserve love. These were all thoughts going on in my head, and they still do come sometimes. I haven’t participated in the behavior for around six months now. I think about going back every day, but i am learning how to control that aspect of myself.

Failure and success all come with life. I know this. I wish it didn’t sometimes, but other times I am glad. Well, I’m never glad with failure. I never will be. That is just who I am. However, with success, I am learning that it is okay with each day. Step by step, I am getting higher up on the success ladder. I have made many improvements. I’ve also had setbacks, which lead to the feelings of failure that haunt me. The path to success will not come without failure. Each failure is followed by ten successes, and might take a few steps back. To that I say:


Worth The Wait

Beauty kills the dedicated

Illness kills the medicated

When the pills don’t seem to work


Life ends for the sedated

Brains end when they are educated

When the education makes you feel no worth


Mirrors ruin body image

Food ruins self -limits

People eating more or less


Makeup covers imperfections

Clothing covers distorted perception

Without those, her life’s a mess


Truth screams out each new direction

Hate screams out each imperfection

The louder one is hate


Love whispers that you are perfect

Hope whispers that you are worth it

You bloomed late, but it was worth the wait


Assumptions With Love


“I’m fine”

“I’m not hungry”

“I already ate”

“Don’t worry about me”


All of these are

Lies I tell them

So maybe i’ll feel

Normal again

I don’t want to get


I want to get well

I don’t know which is

Which any more

Well means healthy

Better means change

How can I be healthy

If I don’t change?

Maybe I don’t want to change

Maybe I think I am healthy


Maybe I’m not


“ Use your coping skills”

“Think of something else”

“You’re too smart to do this”

“Try harder”


Don’t you think

I’m trying? How am

I supposed to try harder than

I am now?

I’ve used my coping skills

Sometimes they just don’t work

I might have a smart brain, but I

Also have a sick brain

Not only mentally sick

But physically tires

Of my obsessions

Of my thoughts

Of my constant feelings

Consisting of self-hate

Anxiety and


Good and bad


“You’re overthinking again”

“I sometimes feel like that”

“Calm down”

“You are wonderful the way you are”


Which of these is

Not like the other?

Oh yeah, the last


It is coming from the heart

But I feel like it’s a lie

I have never thought that

About myself and probably

Never will

Is this overthinking?


I think about music, and writing

And my flaws and my pain

And even my whole life

You might feel like that

Sometimes, but I’m not sure

If that is your whole life


“You will get better”

“We care for you”

“We worry about you because we love you”

And finally


“You are loved”

The one thing I believe


I Will Be A Winner

TW: Eating Disorders

Eating is not my friend. Well, some days it is. How about we call it an acquaintance. There are days when I can eat and eat a lot. Then there are times  when I could go weeks without eating enough. I never know when the feelings will pop up. One day, I can eat a lot and not worry. Then there are days when I eat a lot and can’t handle it in a safe way. There are also weeks of not enough food to give me energy. During these weeks, there are some days when I am not getting anything at all.


It started when I was in eighth grade. It was actually the first problem I had. Bullying and comments about my weight pushed me to where I barely ate at all. I had been put on an antidepressant when I first went to the doctor about my eating habits. The pills never got to work properly in my system, mostly because I was purging my breakfast, and I took my pill at breakfast. I would give my lunch away to the people sitting with me. Not one of them said a word besides “I’ll take it.”. Then dinner would be miniscule amounts of food. I had lost 20 pounds in a short time. My hair was falling out. I was pale and had white hairs all over my body. Yet, the doctor still told me that I was not underweight so there was nothing wrong with me.


My parents found out through the mom of one of my friends. I stupidly texted my friend that I thought I had an eating disorder. Her mom then found the text and told my parents. They then came to me concerned, and brought me to the doctor that I discussed above.


I went to my first hospital a month or so later. I told them about my symptoms, which included my eating habits. They pushed it aside and said nothing of it, even though I was obviously not eating. It was like they didn’t even care about me.


Every hospital after that, I either binged and purged, ate a tiny bit and purged, or completely starved myself. Yet, still not one word, even when I talked about it.


The first adult hospital I went to, I had severely starved myself and purged anything I did eat. I was in college at the time. My friends would ask me why I wasn’t eating much. I told them I wasn’t hungry. Finally they stopped asking. I broke down one day to my parents and told them what I was doing. That was a hard conversation, but it gave me hope that I could recover. At the hospital, I continued on until I decided I should eat. This was part of my cycling. I  stopped worrying about it for a while, until I fell back into its trap.


Finally, at my last hospital, I told someone who actually listened. One of the mental health workers talked to me about what was going on. She then informed the doctor what was happening. He told me that it sounded like I had an eating disorder, but he didn’t give an official diagnosis. He referred me to the dietitian, who was very nice.  She sat down with me and asked about my favorite foods and what I didn’t like. She then made me a plan. I am extremely mad at myself for losing the plan. I couldn’t use it in the hospital, but it was for at home usage. How I wish I still had it, because it would be quite helpful right now.


I am working on a battle plan to beat this disorder. It’s hard because I have been struggling for 5 years, and some days I don’t want to get better. Losing weight is my main goal, but I never get to my target weight. Heck, I don’t think I had a target weight. I was just trying to be smaller than I was.  It was never low enough for me to be happy. I have lost about 14 pounds since this current stage started. I hated myself for doing it, but I hated myself even more when I didn’t like the number on the scale. Things are going to get better if I continue fighting. My eating habits will not beat me. I will overcome them. I will be even stronger than the urges. I will come out of this problem a winner.


The Bus


A slave to myself

Chained to a society

Telling us to eat less

Telling us to be skinny

While at the same time

Says you are beautiful

The way you are

That we don’t need to change


I want to change, though

I don’t know if for the positive

Or the negative

What is the positive

In this case?

Thin or healthy?

What about being healthy while being thin?

Let’s leave that fairy tale alone


Beautiful people have

Beautiful minds

What about me?

I guess that’s why my mind

Is ugly

The mirror stares back at me

Can’t stand my own reflection

While it tries not to puke when it sees me


Broken bodies and Broken souls

All add up to who I am

My body is my biggest enemy

My soul is cracked beyond belief

My head is a scary place to be in

My brain wants out so it can

Find a person who loves herself

It might not be easy


Other people stand alone

Waiting for the bus to sanity to arrive

While I get there ten minutes late

Maybe the next bus will take me to self-love

But I don’t have the change in me

To pay for the ride

All those aboard look at me and point

“She’s not going anywhere”


Well, I guess I’m stuck here for a while

Until I finally gain the courage

To not give in to the urges

That pick me up, then throws me down

I’ll be here waiting in the rain

Until I love myself again

Maybe a second, maybe a year

I might be 80 before it comes out


Someday the bus will come my way

Let me on and take me to

A world where I am fine with me

Where my loved ones are

Where I’m meant to be

The world I could find just by

Taking the blindfold off

Finally see that I am loved for me

Porcelain and Paper

The Bully:


Fingers aching

To be stuck down

To let it out

To be free from self-hatred

For at least a minute


After a minute

The hate is worse

The fear is back

The look on my face

Bright red


No matter how small

Or large

Calorie content

Means nothing

When you hate yourself


Each bite makes you feel

Like a failure

Each chew shows how

Disgusting you are

How you can’t control yourself


It’s supposed to make

Me the me I want

When reality tells you

Nothing is changing

Except for your brain


Filled with thoughts

Of stopping

But not ready

Will you ever

Feel satisfied?


Happy with your

Body you despise

I don’t think so

How can I be happy

With myself in any way?


It  turns to my best friend

Porcelain becomes my favorite

Way to dispel my negative thoughts

Let them go for a while

Then back to fine




I go for months

Feeling fine

Then onto nothing

In my system

In my stomach


Empty is power

So why do I feel powerless?

Counting the calories makes you strong

Then why has my strength depleted?

Why have I gone from happy to depressed?


I thought I’d be delighted

When I stepped on the scale

All it does is make me weaker

Make me feel like I am wrong

The pounds are dropping


The weight is on my shoulders

Inside of me, taunting me to

Disappear, turn into paper

So I can finally feel love for myself


Recovery comes and recovery goes

Something I am working on

So hard to let yourself feel okay

Instead of being the prime example

Of a sob story


I want to feel better

I want to get well

Something’s stopping that

And five years of cycling

Makes it tough to come to a stop


I am going to feel better

I am going to get well

I’ll have to find strength

Need to gain some power

So I can change


Ana and Bully, I

Will not succumb to you

I will fight my way onto

The path of healing

I am a fighter





I want it all

I say

as I stuff it down

Looks like

I am just





in the stomach

but it’s not going to




Porcelain stares at

my weary eyes

as I stick

my finger

down my throat


for the seventh time


It comes up

It goes out

I fall down

not in body

in heart

in spirit

in every little

inch of my stupid


I hate so much




I decide

the whole cyle thing

isn’t working


I need to lose parts of me

I lost parts

but not the weight

I lost heart



my face turned pale


oh so cold

goosebumps even

when it’s 90 degrees

No food, I demand

My brain agrees

my body does not



How long will it take

until they notice

the text I left for her

Until then

I will binge

I will purge

I will starve

I wil repeat



Her mother found it

the sacred text for no one

but her

talked at

not a conversation

I was not


Next day,


I got told

I was depressed

needed meds

needed therapy

This was my first time

in therapy

and on meds

and being told I was