𝐃𝐍𝐈 * 𝟐𝟏+ 𝟏𝟓- 𝐃𝐍𝐈 * 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐏��𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓
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"but being skinny won't solve your problems" being fat IS my problem what are you talking about
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me when my mom m4kes me 34t and she's watching me
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If you go back to eating normal, you’ll have a normal body again
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . My Motivation:
Thigh gap
Straight arms
Looking/being treated like I’m frail
Getting picked up easier
Pretty privilege
The looks/staring
The dizziness
Looking “healthy”
Tight stomach
Size 0/00
No thank you I’m ok
Rejecting guys
Looking better in clothes
Compliments
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Looking at these girls makes me feel like a fake 4n4
i wish i could be that small
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Fragments of a Fading Reflection ● A Poem
In the cold, unfeeling glow of your screen, I disintegrate,
Lost in a parade of faces, where beauty’s cruelly innate.
Their figures, ethereal wisps, like whispers of the dawn,
While I, a heavy shadow, struggle and feel withdrawn.
Their hair, a cascade of spun gold, flowing like molten light,
While mine, a tangled abyss, swallowed by the endless night.
Their skin, a flawless canvas, untouched by time or pain,
While mine is a patchwork of scars, etched by life’s harsh strain.
They display their inked art, stories written in vibrant hues,
While my own skin hides the remnants of battles I didn’t choose.
Their tattoos speak of freedom, each line a tale of grace,
While I cover my own wounds, shrouded in disgrace.
You follow their lives with fervor, each one more perfect than the last,
While I linger in the periphery, a ghost from a distant past.
Your followers rise like a flood, their beauty a constant beam,
And I, caught in the riptide, drown in a fading dream.
Each swipe on your screen is a dagger to my hollow soul,
As I measure my worth against these images so whole.
I count every calorie, each bite is a penance paid,
Trying to sculpt my existence, to fit into the mold displayed.
Anorexia’s grip tightens, a merciless, invisible chain,
Each calorie a crime, each hunger pang a piercing pain.
My reflection shows a gaunt shell, frail and withered, hollow-eyed,
A mere echo of my former self, a life stripped and denied.
I am confined by form-fitting clothes, a prison of my own making,
Their sizes mock my struggle, my self-worth slowly breaking.
I squeeze into garments, hoping to erase the stark divide,
But with each squeeze, I feel more like a fragment, more denied.
“Maybe if I shrink enough,” I whisper in the night’s cold embrace,
“You’ll finally notice me, my figure will find its place.”
Yet even as I lose weight, my spirit becomes more thin,
The mirror’s harsh judgment shows the turmoil deep within.
Thirty pounds lighter, but I am a mere shadow of my former self,
A fragile wisp in the reflection, a life left on the shelf.
“Look at me,” I plead silently, tightening my grip on this gaunt frame,
Hoping that somehow, my suffering might end this cruel game.
The fear of you leaving, a specter haunting every breath,
A constant torment, a lingering, undying death.
I strive to fit into the ideal, to blend with the flawless dream,
But each size, each comparison, makes me feel more obscene.
“Why am I not enough?” I cry in the dead of night,
As I stare at my reflection, a figure devoid of light.
My waistline grows slimmer, my heart grows colder still,
In the pursuit of your approval, I lose my will.
Each day I battle this endless sorrow, this unyielding, crushing despair yearning for your touch, for a love that seems so rare.
But in the mirror’s unfeeling gaze, I see only my demise,
An endless cycle of anguish, as my heart slowly dies.
So I am left in this void, a figure unseen and broken,
Longing for a touch of love, for words that remain unspoken.
In the cruel theater of my own making, I am forever confined,
An echo of what I once was, lost in the labyrinth of my mind.
#anabl0g#anadiet#tw ana bløg#tw ed ana#4n@diary#@nor3×14#@tw edd#light as a feather#low cal meal#low cal restriction#ana miaa#tw ana rant#anadiary#4norexla#4n0rexic#4n4blr#4nor3xia#4n4rexia#tw edtwt#ed but not ed sheeran#tw 3d vent#3ating d1sorder#3d not sheeran#tw thinspi#thinspø#thin$po#low calorie meals#tw skipping meals#mealsp0#mealspo
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Nothing feels as good as water on an empty stomach
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im so tired of seeing kate moss thinspo and “don’t eat that… you’ll regret it” and “you are a fatty poo poo pig” “oh a bag of chips? that��s going on your hips!�� SHUT TF UP!!!! it’s not even good meanspo and tbh it has never worked
it’s so repetitive and every creator that does it almost feel like a note farm to me but maybe im just crazy
you can do better….. like make a spongebob diet or something…..
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no one worries for the fat girl with an ed. don't let it be you.
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she’s my literal thin$pø 😔😩
photos from ig: ssupr
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Tw: meanspø
wtf do you mean “I feel the binge coming” you are not an animal now leave the kitchen!
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eat for the size you want, not the size you are.
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