They Usually Played Together In Groups Of Two Or Three, I Was Covered In Glitter, I Smelled Like Birthday

SYRINGECORIC - a gender connected or related to medical syringes, sub type of medcoric

Well, depends on the time of the day 

I’m depressed, and I feel the need to apologise for that. I get it, I lay in bed all day and do nothing with my life. So sorry, I know you expect more from me. I’m sorry I’m disappointing you by doing nothing with my life. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten a better job, that I’m refusing to go school, or to have a life of my own. It’s just every god damn breath I take to do anything is just drowning me alive. I wish you would understand me when I speak, but it’s like gibberish to you.

REMEMBER:

Food is fuel, nothing else.

You eat to stay alive, not to enjoy it.

Imagine thinspo for myself, 14.2.20

it’s 9:00 and you don’t want to go to work.

you roll over in bed and reach for your phone, slender fingers quickly turning off your alarm. you sigh, stare at the ceiling, and wonder if there’s any way you could get out of it. until that time, though, you lazily sit up and put on your slippers. on the way to the bathroom, you pull your short hair back into a ponytail and yawn.

when you turn and look at yourself in the mirror, you feel confused for a moment... is that you? you see the girl in the mirror knit her brows together in confusion as she reaches a hand to touch her sharp jawline. her hand travels down her neck as she watches. moments later, she pulls the hair tie from her hair and watches her short, curly blonde hair fall in a chin-length bob, framing her slender cheeks wonderfully, accenting her brown doe eyes.

it’s you. truly, you have a hard time believing it. for months you lost yourself to the fact that you were to remain forever a chubby glutton, every time you looked in the mirror you saw the girl you were when ana came to you. now, for whatever reason, today you see who you became with her. a slender fae of a girl, sloping collarbones, petite build, big eyes and high cheekbones. you smile a little, a tiny sliver of white teeth peeking through your pink lips.

“hey,” you say quietly.

you think you can make it to work after all.

Remember this feeling.

The feeling of not giving up, of not giving in.

Going to bed, knowing that you kept the promise to yourself, and did not binge, or overeat.

You did it.

You battled the anxiety, the panic, the overwhelming need to bury your fears, and you came out swinging. Blocking jab after jab, keeping just out of range of the underhanded blows. You’re a fighter. Never forget that.

Now, sleep easily.

Tomorrow, get up, lace up your shoes, smile, and do it all over again.

You got this.

You got this.

You got this!

oh my god this isn’t about recovery but haven’t we all thought this at some point

https://www.instagram.com/p/BuOhWHRATcL

We stan the school's bathroom graffiti *the side says "not all women have periods"* let's see how long it takes for the school to paint over it.