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Back Seat Of Anxiety
Contributed by
SmileSkinDeep
on
Saturday, 14th April 2007 @ 01:28:58 PM in AEST
Topic:
anguished
|
At the ripe age of 15 we learn to drive
We're sent off into the world at 18
Expected to thrive
When I was only 6
I learned I was different
Put on a stage in a bikini
Do the routine, too much time was spent
Looking back, I can finally remember
At that young age
How I felt when I looked in the mirror
My fat bum didn't fit onstage
My father, an artist. Lots of focus on looks
He gave me insight, support, and lots a' books
I was in a frame of mind too old for my body
I was happy with my life but not with me
Little did I know as I rhomped about the house
Carefree, eating what I want; running where I please
I had so many problems in store that I knew nothing about
Hit me like a brick wall, perfection was there to seize
Just as we see dead roses need to be thrown away
Sight can be a blessing and a curse;
I looked in the mirror with Hell to pay
But oh! Little did I know,
That was just the beginning
Before I let my true colors show
My entire self esteem and inner beauty takes a beating
As time went on, it only got worse,
I became apathetic looking for a "cure"
I tried to look for something more to life
Something far beyond looks I couldn't control
I comtemplated, sought something I liked inside
But this entire time, I wasn't really overweight
I looked at myself and put too much at stake
Taking a shot at perfection is never worth the effort
I will spend a lifetime on attempted achievement
Just to never be happy, no matter how much it hurts
She wont like me, he'll think I'm retarded or have a disease
I'm not ever what I want, I don't do what I please
Inhibition sped as fast as it can go
I take the backseat of anxiety and put myself in tow
I don't have this self esteem or confidence you speak of
I may seem as though, I'm on that stage again, for another show
This time around I act, I pour my made up heart out
I take the same placid mask that won't ever let me be loud
Self-supressed, anxiety-driven, Queen of Inhibition
A show sold out, she's quite the act
You would never guess she hates everything about her
At some time or another, psst: she thinks herself fat!
She shoved any co-star that shouldda been there off that stage
She couldn't let them see who she was, in fear of rejection
She will not be weak; she will be her own slave
Or was this girl always the slave of imperfection?
Some say its all in your head, its simply a teenage phase
When anxiety is passed through a bloodline
That lasts strong years and years
You'd think this disease has been completely refined
So you're stuck with it, huh?
You'll never like who you are
No, I won't let this disease take me down
Though it may tear me apart
There's a hope for tomorrow, hearts never beat in vain
I've found many things good in myself but not without pain
Pain allows passage, its a simple price to pay
I can begin to accept myself but its a drop in the bucket every day
I look in the mirror and inside of myself to make a selection
But I can't help but wonder
Why was I choosen to be a slave to imperfection?
Copyright ©
SmileSkinDeep
... [
2007-04-14 13:28:58]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Back Seat Of Anxiety
(User Rating: 1 )
by AnastasiaN on
Sunday, 15th April 2007 @ 09:44:03 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Great message, I've often dwelled over this dilemma myself not understanding why it is we torture ourselves so much. My very intelligent and beautiful best friend who has been struggling with an eating disorder told me the other day that she is disgusted in herself for conforming to societal expectations and norms. It's hard to be strong-willed and unique in a society that demands so much competition based on competencies and appearance. |
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