✧・ﾟ:*Today’s Magical Girl Of The Morning Is: Cynthia From Gothic Wa Mahou Otome!✧・ﾟ:*

"My soul is the mirror of the universe, and my body is its frame."

-Voltaire; Micromegas

Chotronette ‘Riz à l’impératrice’ & ‘Forest Fondant’ Haute Couture Gowns

I decided it was about time for me to write online about eating disorders and what it takes to truly recover from it.

How to do it? I don't know - yet.

I found myself again undereating And overexercising and somehow I found it to be disturbing. It wasn't my first time doing it, it was definitely not the worst I got. However this time I was older, not a teenager anymore, not as emotional about it and for my luck, I had Instagram.

Might be a good question to ask, how Instagram helped me? Showed me - since I was for a long time searching about diets and exercises- some bloggers defending something called 'intuitive eating'. And what is this? It is basically some women that, tired of suffering during their entire life from undereating and fighting eating disorders caused by what they called the "diet culture", decided to study about nutrition, most of them are professionals of the area, and then decided to speak to other woman about how society has convinced them to be under their set-point weight all for the sake of the "perfect female's body".

Most of them suffered, as I do, of anorex1a nervosa and put their bodies under an extreme stress. All the idea behind what they defend is not that complicated but I can't say I truly absorb it. I am indeed still trying to recover, still trying to eat what I want, to not worry about how fit I look and all that :good: stuff everybody already knows about.

One thing however, I found to be the most important point I got from them: society does tell woman to undereat, it does convince us that if we are not skinny and fit we are not -truly- enough, it does makes us believe there is the ideal body, the ideal BMI - this last one has a dark history on my point of view - and it does for sure put in our minds some crazy productivity standards when it is up to working out. At least, now, I know it is not ok to eat less than 1000 kcal, workout twice a day for 2h straight and weight myself almost everyday.

And that is might point about what it takes to recover from a eating disorder: recognize it, study about it and work on how you see and deal with food and your own body, accept and start to listen to yourself, not to the calorie's app or the fitness blogger that has an intense workout routine while eating only protein shakes and bars. You know what you need, honor yourself and your body. It is all a process but I am happy that I started it and I have people by my side that care and are helping me with it.

✧・ﾟ:*Today’s magical girl of the night is: Wyndham from Gothic Wa Mahou Otome!✧・ﾟ:*

“She was brave, my Mara.”

Some types of people can deeply bother me,I won't talk about the ones that makes me feel angry but those who can make me perplexed.

PEOPLE WITHOUT GOALS

In my head the only thing I can't think when someone starts the answer to "what do you plan on doing now/this year/whenever?" with a "maybe" is: how?

How can someone be so "plan-free" or insecure about their own wishes that they can't answer it with "I will" or "I want to" ?

I might not know what I will for sure do, but I definitely have more than one concrete plan for this time in question. I might not know if the plan A or B will work but if know I have for sure a plan C or some variation of the previous ones. I don't know what I will be doing next year, no one knows, no one can predict the future, but I know what I want to do, what I'm working forward to do.

I don't like people without goals, without a single dream, without a plan. I guess it is due the fact I'm really obsessed with organization and planning everything, workouts, meals, tasks, etc. I try my best to keep an spreadsheet or some type of mental note of what I need to do or want to accomplish and I honestly don't know how people can live without doing so.

Sometimes I just feel hopeless about all of the trauma I carry. I have ongoing issues with inflammatory injuries and I know that’s linked to long-term stress, as are a bunch of other diseases. And so many of my responses to things and how I see the world are colored by the way I experienced life as a kid and it just makes me feel like I’m never going to be normal. I crave but am terrified of intimacy of any kind, and this was only worsened by emotional trauma as a teen and young adult. I just feel constantly detached, like I’m not quite a part of things, and like what even is the point if I’m never going to experience life normally anyway? Like I know no one has a “normal” experience but come on. It seems like I’m never going to be able to enjoy things the way it seems everyone else does, like I’m just going to constantly feel like the walking wounded, never quite able to open up or keep up. Idek this isn’t even making any sense. I’m just feeling pretty mournful over everything today.

life is about getting through the day without crying

I have a huge problem of always saying that I will be better and never actually being. I’ve been my entire life waiting for God’s magical power of changing to follow on me. I’ve been always waiting for the morning I would wake up and be a good person and it never came, it never happen. It is hard to be so self-conscious, it is hard to be all the time waiting to be good all the time, to be perfect all the time, to never be aggressive, to never make anyone sad, to be always the perfect human being that never commits mistakes. 

And honestly it is not because of this text that I will be better but maybe one day I will wake up and magically be perfect or be magically not giving two fucks about being perfect or not 

ouch

You hate yourself so loudly. You hate yourself at the top of your lungs. Your loathing for yourself permeates your speech. “Sorry I’m just rambling.” “Don’t worry about it.” “Just ignore me.” “Sorry if I’m annoying you.” “Sorry I don’t make sense.” “Sorry about that.” Sorry, sorry, sorry. You act as if you have to beat everyone else to the punch. As if the punching bag is you. If you hate yourself first, if you hate yourself loudest, then nobody will hurt you. You clapped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes and balled yourself up so that you’d never have to experience people’s loathing for you. And it meant you never heard their love. You drowned it out. You screamed your hatred over it. And you never got to hear it.