A Poem: I See Fine

I love this black couch with its white fluffy pillows. 

I look into the eyes of the therapist, who’s job is apparently to listen and help me see.

“I see fine”, I tell her. She silently nods and writes something down- I never know what she writes down.

Sometimes I talk real fast just to see if she will get frustrated and tell me to slow down – she never does.

I tell her, “I love your black couch and white fluffy pillows.”


Do you have trouble seeing the truth? Join us in the School of Recovery to help clear up your view. ๐Ÿ‘€


I tell her the black couch makes me feel safe.

The white fluffy pillows make me feel secure.

She looks at me with kindness in her eyes with- is that a hint of pity I see?

I look back and I smile. I always smile. She just looks at me with eyes- no not pity… concern? love?

I sit and stare trying to decipher the code behind her eyes I sit and analyze how best to respond to her unspoken questions.

I laugh in my head about how they always ask.. so, how do you feel? I always thought that was a joke but, no, they really do ask – all. the. time.

I laugh thinking if I knew how I felt, I wouldn’t need her- or maybe I don`t really know much about anything anymore.

She’s looking at me still.

I smile.

“I love this black couch and white fluffy pillows”, I say.

I smile – but really I am annoyed at her kind eyes and concerned questions.

Why does kindness make me squirm and concern make me want to hurl this entire couch out the window-? Why does being loved feel so wrong, yet so intensely desired?

Man. therapists have a way of making you think deeply even when they don’t speak.

I don’t like her, but I do.

She understands. or at least she tries to.  

I think she knows all of this- sheโ€™s smarter than I give her credit for.

I smile.

“I see fine”, I tell her. She writes. Ugh.

I wonder if she goes home and tells her family about me.

I wonder if she ever eats dinner and thinks of me.

I wonder if I am apart of her like she has become of me.

I am about to tell her I love her black couch and white fluffy pillows when-

Honey, that couch is grey and the pillows are full of color.

Dang. Maybe I do need to be here.


Join us in the School of Recovery to see your eating disorder recovery in a new way. ๐Ÿ‘€


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