I have a lot of followers that suffer from some sort of mental illness. Whether that be anorexia, bulimia, ednos, BED, depression, BPD, OCD, anxiety, self harm, DID, Bipolar, or all/non of the above doesn’t matter. What matters to me is that you’re hurting. It breaks my heart to see so many beautiful people hate themselves so much. I look at every single one of you and I see something so unique, so amazing, and so unbelievably beautiful.
•Covered in scars? Still beautiful •300000 pounds? Still beautiful
•90 pounds? Still beautiful
Still. Fucking. Beautiful.
•depressed? Still loved
•anxiety consumed? Still loved.
•suicidal? Most definitely still loved.
Still. Fucking. Loved.
There’s NOTHING you can do to yourself that will take away how wonderful you are, and how much you’re worth. No mental illness can undue the power of you.
Listen to me when I say this: You. Are. Not. What. You. Go. Through.
You are NOT your illness. You’re a wonderful human being who deserves to be cherished. The illness within you is the evil thing, not you. You are brilliant. You are full of potential and world changing possibilities.
So the next time you look in the mirror remember the most beautiful thing is the reflection looking back. Priceless, irreplaceable, beautiful you.
Hey my wonderful followers. it’s been awhile. Don’t worry. I’m not dead though I got pretty close. School pressures, life. and family issues finally got to me again and put me under loads of stress and anxiety. This of course triggered me to go to old and dangerous forms of coping: self harm and “eating issues.” Because of this I felt the need to cut everything f triggering out of my life that I could. tumblr can get very triggering very fast, so I felt the need to take a break until I felt more stable. I missed you all so incredibly much though, and I feel much better and though things aren’t perfect (and probably never will be) I’ve managed to find myself again.
Body image is like at negative 1000000 today. I’m so fat. It’s ridiculous. So gross, like oh my lanta.
Overslept and started the morning with my dad yelling at me about every single thing he possibly could. So to punish myself for being such a terrible daughter I bit the heck outta my arm.
I got terrible test anxiety during my math test, so I only finished half of it. So failed that. Awesome.
Now I have to go to English where I know for a fact this teacher as it out for me.
How is your day so far?
Sure I can try to not throw up, try to eat better, and try not to binge. I’ve done that form of “recovery” before. But how do I not think about every bite I put in my mouth? How do I not hate myself? How do I not be sad all the time? How do I make the voices stop screaming at me over how worthless and fat I am? How do I reach true recovery?
Not just from the eating disordered habits, but from the mind set and the depression and such. I know you can’t ever truly “recover” from depression or that way of thinking, but it can improve a lot. I want to start taking my medicine again, I want to learn to love my body, eat healthy, and I want to be actively trying to be a happier person. Last time I got rid of just the habits, and that’s why it was so easy for me to relapse. Maybe this time… I dunno.
People think that they are, people think we’re good friends, people think that they want to help me, but people are wrong. People talk to me when it’s convenient for them, but God forbid I need help. When I need someone, and a friend volunteers to be that someone for me they quickly quit. They realize how messed up I am and they either
A. Get too frustrated and leave
B. Get too freaked out and leave
C. Think I’m annoying and leave
D. Think I’m too clingy and leave
E. all of these above
Every single time.
No one can help me because no one can handle me. They want to, I truly believe that they do, but they underestimate how difficult I am. People think that they’re there for me, but really they’re just there for themselves.
I’m alone. All alone.
I’m too fat for that.
….its a bad body image day.
Trying not to feel super guilty.
Trying not to purge
Trying not to feel fat
…this isn’t working.
Okay, so I was at this Italian restaurant and I was binging on Italian food. I went to go purge and when I came back from the bathroom my waiter was talking to the cashier and they both stared me down. Then my waiter looked at the cashier and put his fingers down his throat. They stared at me some more. So obviously the waiter knew I purged. Then I went to go pay and the cashier gives me this HORRIBLE look. Just nasty, like I was some freak of nature.
Yes, douche I’m BULIMIC. Get over it. It’s a disease NOT a life style, so don’t be a judgmental prick!!!