What if you don’t feed me and I’m starving late at night,
I’ve nicked biscuits from the cupboard then caused an awful fight,
My first Mum hardly fed me and my belly used to growl,
So when you’re fast asleep, I am often on the prowl,
I know I’ve been here ages and you say you’ll meet my needs,
But I’m lonely in my room and I’ve never had night feeds,
No one ever got up and rocked me when I cried,
So my need remains unmet and I’m wobbly inside.
Underneath my bed I’ve hid a little stash,
Of chocolate, crisps and biscuits and a pack of instant mash,
I know I shouldn’t do it and I’m wracked with toxic shame,
But the urge just overtakes me and and I carry on the same.
I’ve got these dreadful feelings and a whir inside my brain,
I’m desperate for the sugar like an addict on cocaine,
The sugar helps the whirring and gives me a great high,
Then afterwards it’s worse as my fists begin to fly.
I can’t wait till the weekend when I get a bit of cash,
Straight down to the shops for chocolate and flap jacks,
I spend my pocket money on sweet stuff, crisps and drink,
They’re gone within the hour before you can even blink.
I haven’t got those pathways built to let me know,
That you will always feed me and you’ll never let me go,
I truly cannot recognise when my tummy is quite full,
Or believe that you will feed me when I get back home from school.
I’m not just being greedy, it’s a need to stay alive,
Food is often hoarded as I’m wired to survive,
I think you might have noticed that I always clear my plate,
Then tell you that I’m hungry when it’s getting rather late.
Babies should have parents who get up in the night,
To feed them if they’re crying until they feel alright,
That wasn’t my experience, no one came to see,
If I was feeling hungry or had a full nappy.
Often I would wait till later in the day,
For a little bit of food that would sometimes come my way,
Due to this neglect, I haven’t got the knowledge,
When I wake up in the morning, there’s bacon, eggs and porridge.
Sadly it will take a long time to believe,
That food is always there as I need a clear routine,
Feeding at the same time each and every day,
And a magic bowl of fruit that never goes away.
A graze box in the kitchen, filled up every morning,
To communicate the message, I’ll never be left starving.
Do try to remember to gently name the need,
That I struggle with believing, that You’ll never miss a feed,
Reassure and hold me and let me know you’ll come ,
If I wake up in night and call out for my Mum.
Written by Sarah Dillon Head of Therapeutic Leads
Picture: Rosie Rudey and the Enormous Chocolate Mountain: A story about hunger, overeating and using food for comfort -Find out more
