You're Too Smart For This
An Original Poem
“You’re too smart for this”
What does my intelligence have to do with how I see my body?
I had a GPA above a 4.0
I also dropped textbooks on my legs to bruise them
And had hundreds of self inflicted cuts on my thigh and hip
But I’m smart, right?
Sure! Smart enough to know that if I didn’t eat it would numb me
From the pain
Of living with a father who didn’t really care
Or maybe didn’t know how to?
I still wrestle with that one
The struggle of knowing I was “cute” and “petite”
I thought I had to stay that way
What would people say if I was anything but those words?
Doctors said with big smiles on their faces every year I went in for a check-up
Does the number on the scale and my B.M.I. really matter that much?
It must
Sometimes even strangers commented
“Such a cute, little red-head”
Those words cut like knives
Burned like a candle
And melted into the brain I would soon be told was “sick”
I laughed as I stared at the wall
Sick?
No, I’m just disciplined, and I’m smart!
Damn it!
Someone look at me!
I mean really look
No one did so before I even had time to digest the idea
I was packing my things to live in a treatment center at the age of 16
April 1, 2012
This is a joke, right? Because it’s April Fool’s Day and it’s a Monday; I should be in school
No, I should be in treatment for 7 weeks to “Get better soon!”
I was discharged in a body unfamiliar to me
I wasn’t better
5 agonizing years went by
Now at age 21
Still not working
Still not driving a car
Still in therapy
Still not better
July 18, 2017, I am admitted to the adult unit this time
I meet new people, and make new friends
“You’re just like him”
My therapist said confidently
But I’m sick, and I have legitimate reasons for why I am this way
Why won’t anyone fucking look at me?!
Really look?
Look at the sadness in my eyes
Look at the shame I carry on my shoulders
Look at the desperation in my soul
To be something different than this
No one looked
So 6 weeks later I was discharged
Still not better
Still not working
Still not driving a car
Placed in DBT centered therapy
And then DBT group therapy
I changed therapists again somewhere in the mix
To someone different than the rest of them
She looked at me
Really looked at me
Now I’m 22 years old
Still not better
AND
I think for first time ever I can say
I’m either going to get better
Or die trying
Because I refuse to stay sick
Because I am too smart for this
About the Creator
Amanda Olejniczak
I am a writer, poet, and proud advocate for mental health. Addtional content I create can be found on Instagram: @amanda_unfiltered or @amanda_unfiltered_poetry.
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