Joonsdiiimple - (bon)anne

me when someone says they have only eaten 500 calories:

Me when I eat only 300-400 calories and that person get angry about that:

We were two hours on call, after days without one because of me studying. She's so sweet, and I'm so grateful because she helped me learn all those vitamin's names. She's the best.

To all girls who think ana can solve your problems:

Please, don't do it

To all my new anas

For the love of god please turn back now

This isn’t a quick fix to your weight problem

This won’t help the way you feel about yourself

It will literally only make it worse

This is dangerous as fuck

Like you can actually fucking die

And today I felt like I was dying

My heart was pounding, and I was shaking violently. I didn’t have enough energy to get out of bed and when I stood up I’d nearly pass out.

I was laying in bed fucking sobbing because I’d rather be dead than physically feel like this

This problem is easily fucking solvable if I just ate

But I couldn’t because I was going to have pizza tonight

And even though I didn’t eat yesterday, and had less than 200 calories the day before, I still couldn’t bare to eat anything today because I would be forced to eat pizza with my family

Fucking pizza, a food I used to love, gives me fucking anxiety if there’s even a chance I’ll have to eat it. A food i used to love ruined by this godawful disorder, because all I can think about is how many calories are in a slice (but I have to eat 2 to keep away suspicious) and how greasy it is makes me want to puke

This is not a quick fix

This will not help you “gain control”

This will not give you discipline

But

This will give you anxiety

This will make you lie to the ones you love

This will make you absolutely hate yourself

With every ounce of your being

And if you go far enough

This will fucking kill you

self harming by trying to make your symptoms worse on purpose

Admitting you were abused is hard for whole multitude of reasons, but one that hit me most was the fact that I had to admit to myself that abusers have managed to really, really hurt me. Really badly. That all their efforts to get to me, to make me doubt myself, to make me hate myself, were successful, no matter how much I fought, and pretended not to be hit by it all. I didn’t manage to defend myself. I didn’t beat them. I got hurt. I couldn’t get out of there. I couldn’t get away from them. I continued to get hurt. For a long long time. I was at their mercy. They could have done anything to me. They did anything to me. Nobody stopped them. Nobody fought for me. Despite all my efforts to keep myself sane, to keep myself okay, I am filled with wounds and trauma and damage too vast to even asses. They got what they wanted. And I lost big parts of myself to it. I’ve been lying to myself when I tried to be okay. I wasn’t okay. I needed help. I wasn’t unbeatable. I wasn’t quite that strong. Humans aren’t made to be that strong. Humans aren’t made to survive in environment where they’re tortured and abandoned completely. I wasn’t made to withstand that either. I got broken. I lived in an illusion that this was okay. It wasn’t. I was scared. I was alone. I thought it was my fault. I could have died. It’s a miracle I’m still around.

Days off antipsychotics and feeling the void

mutuals feel free to kick my ass

A mellor parte dunha relación e tal cal... Non sou, de feito tenho moito desexo de durmir.

Estraño a miña parellaaaaaaaa. Jijiji estou aprendendo galego só por elaaaa. Estou moito enamoradaaaaaaaaa. Vou empezar a ter o delirio

Ay no, que mala persona soy

G-d blessed me after so much time feeling unworthy of love. And how did he make everything perfect, as if it was meant to be.