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Overcoming Body Dysmorphic Disorder
It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.
It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.


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Somewhere down there deep inside of me there is this small little man.

And he is hurting, and I can’t get to him.

He is in pain and I cannot comfort him.

He needs to be told everything is going to be OK, but he is crying.

He feels more than I do, so I have taken over day-to-day functioning.

I have shut him out, created a box so that I can go on living. But I cannot feel, so I am mostly dead.

The only part of me that lives is in the box and this keeps me going.

Why do you hurt? Why can’t I comfort you? Why are you so afraid?

It is better to be outside the box, because where you are is dark, it is cold and it is a world for the dead.

I cannot live with you inside this box.

I am just a shell, a soulless human being roaming the world looking for guidance.

But in this damaged, soulless self there is life, waiting to be set free.

You are writing this letter, I know you are there, please do not cry you are loved, you need not fear anymore because I’ve got your back. I will hold you and when the world looks upon us, it is you that they will see.

And I will fade into the background where I belong.

A lifeless shell, damaged for sure, animated by the smallest intentions to keep you alive.

So that you may once again be free.

To love, to laugh..

To live.
To Live
To Live
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