myfuckinplanet

[myfuckinplanet]

I want to throw up but I fucking can’t because there’s people in the bathroom

[myfuckinplanet]

Big fat cunt. You don’t work enough.

Anxiety isn’t an excuse.

Not enough not enough not enough

Stop crying big fat baby

Stop making excuses

Stop complaining

Your friends stops to invite you when you’re sad

Fuck you

Fuck your body

A hole is a hole

Nobody loved you

Your parents will be so fucking ashamed to see you didn’t worked hard enough this year

No diploma

No job

Just throw up

Why did you fucking eat

You shouldn’t eat you big fat joke

Just a fucking mainstream weab, a wannabe punk who fucking brags and talk shit

Nobody cares if you exist or not

You’re just a pain in the ass who eats its fucking problems and its bank account

Fuck you

[myfuckinplanet]

We are apes dressed in fancy plastic clothes.

[myfuckinplanet]

- If that thing hurts you, then I will stop doing it.

- okay, thank you.

But promises are being kept until the one who kept it doesn’t think it was important anymore.

People don’t care about each other’s feelings.

[myfuckinplanet]

I bought new tools and I fixed my bathroom.

Check. It feels good.

I bought vegetables and cooked something healthy.

Check. Feels good.

Night’s coming, my brain goes numb.

Check.

Remembering shit my loved ones once told about me.

Check.

I eat until I want to throw up to relieve me from the pain.

Check.

I throw up until my throat burns.

Daily tasks completed.

Why don’t I call someone I love to keep me company when I feel like shit, huh ? Well, why would I decided to stay alone, and wreck my own digestive system like a depressive twelve year old girl ?

You want the sad truth ?

Nobody care about anyone. Friends offered me to give them a call. But clearly, when I talk about this, people treat me like I was faking my pain to BEG for attention. After all, I am already posting my depressive shit on social media. Some “friends” make fun of my eating disorder. Some only see this as a fake word I use to hide the fact that I’m a basic fat bitch.

Nobody care. Boyfriends ? Only there when I take care of them. They end up living me because I’m emotionally instable and cry when someone offers me pizza. That sounds dumb right ?

So, why would I call my friends ?

Why am I even alive ? Friendship isn’t real. Love is a chemical mess. Everything is fake and I hate myself.

I want to stop eating.

[myfuckinplanet]

Start working start working

Stop crying

Start working

Stop crying

I hate me

I shouldn’t be here

Why

Why

Why am I broken like this

I want to be someone else

Someone else

Someone else

Someone else

[myfuckinplanet]

I want to be someone else

[myfuckinplanet]

I hate myself

[myfuckinplanet]

Work more or die

Work more or die

Work more or die

Work more or die

You fat piece of shit that just waste time watching fucking movies and lives in its own head

I live in my head and I can’t get out

If I can’t get out I’ll die and waste everything away

Please let me out of here

I can’t work i can’t work i can’t work

Let me die let me die let me die

I hate myself

Let me out

Why am I me and not someone else

I’m just a fat piece of junk

I have no worth

Be praised or get lost

[myfuckinplanet]

What a day.

People. Talk. Job. Hi. Shake hands. Polite. Nice people. Nice work. Good bye. Other people. New people. Hi. Shake hands. Full of themselves. What am I doing here ? Dunno. Assholes. Stay polite. Shake hands. Goodbye. New people. Nice dudes. Shake hands. Cool job. Project ? Fuck yeah. Check my card. See ya. Shake hands. Smiles. Goodbye. New people. Hi. Shake hands. Not my profile. But cool. Shake hands. Cool. See you. Goodbye. Polite. Polite. Have a nice one. Hello. Shake hands. Goodbye. Wait. Hour. Half. Hello. Shake hands. Shake hands. Goodbye. Hello. Shake hands. Goodbye. Hello. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Walk. Snow. Sad. Cramps. Pain. Bloody periods. Cold. Cold. Walk. Think of jerk. Focus on bad. Stop. Stop. Cold. Walk. Walk. Hungry. Sleep.

If you’re bad people will stop loving you.

If you’re sad people will stop loving you.

If you’re dead people will not care about you.

Walk. Focus. Stop. Sad. Tired. Sleepy. Sleepy. Is that life ? Tv show. Tv. Tv. Tv. Eat. Tv. Tv. Too much food. Don’t throw up. Don’t purge. Tv. Tv. Don’t purge.

Sleepy. Sleepy. Cramps. Turn off lights. Get to bed. Write shit on secret blog. Pray nobody finds it.

Sleepy. Sleepy.

Write. Turns off light. Think about death. Pray for everyone I care about to stay alive a day again. Cry. Death is a bitch. Am I crazy ? Yes. Yes. Stop. Crazy bitch.

Sleepy. Crazy. Think about shit I don’t want to do.

Think about loved one. Think about exs. Love is weird. Think about death again. Stop. Imagine a cool story. Verify there’s no blood is bed. Everything’s alright. Should clean up my room. Eventually falls asleep. Life’s a mess. Sleep.

[myfuckinplanet]

These days I feel strangely good. I feel more empowered, more motivated and pleased to work and do things I have to do.

That’s sudden, but it is good. I don’t know if it is my brain chemistry that fuck up time to time, or if I just needed to see my family.

I’ve also being able to take care of my health lately. I cook more, walk a lot. I try to take care of myself.

I also had good news about my work. It’s so pleasant to have our work appreciated time to time. I still have to work on myself and what I do to get better and be a better person, but I’m glad I had recognition. Until a few days back I was feeling like everything I was doing was shit and that I shouldn’t even touch things.

I’m also able to discuss passionating subjects with my friends and teachers. I have more confidence in what I think and say. I wasn’t able to talk without feeling awkward before christmas.

I’m happy to have my head out of the water again.

[myfuckinplanet]

I try not to eat

I don’t really feel like there’s something wrong with me. It feels just right, I don’t know how to explain this.

I’ve always been struggling with my weight. I am and I have always been overweight. Not from my point of view. My bmi is in the “obese” section.

90% of the persons I dated told me to lose weight for them. Some didn’t “desired” me, and ended up breaking up because they liked skinny girls. “But you have SUCH a pretty face !” Yes I know. That’s why I only wear a shirt in my sleep and not a bag on my head.

I tried to do it the healthy way, going to the gym and eating better... But I work 8h a day all week, I don’t have the time or the energy to go to the gym or to cook everyday.

At 18yo, I started to make myself throwup after binges, but it never helped me to lose weight. It makes just everything worse. It’s a punishment, a slap in the face for our sins, but it doesn’t make everything right again.

I could go for the body-positive and everything, but I still feel as my current boyfriend could just stop loving me at any time because I’m so fucking huge.

I saw his face the other day : “Are you going to the gym tonight ?” He was trying to stay neutral, but I took weight recently because of all the social game nights I did recently... And the binges. And I knew he saw it.

As I told him “Yes, I’m going after class.” His face lighten up ! Such a bright smile. I can’t hate him for that. He’s probably the only guy that ever respected me in a relationship. We’re quite happy together. He’s just a guy. He likes skinny. He likes cute.

And I’m an hairy sac of fat.

It’s not just about him. I want to look better in weird clothes. Right now when I try to color my hair or to put weirdass goth clothes I just look like a big fat clown.

It’s been a week now, I try to eat less that 1000cal a day. I kinda achieved it until now, I even see changes on my face already. I want to eat even less than this. I know some people are able to eat around 400cal a day. I knows it’s bad, I know it can be dangerous. I know two girls who almost died of their eating disorder. But I’m far from there yet. It’s the only part of my life where I have a bit of control on, you know ?

[myfuckinplanet]

Be kind and be patient.

Everything will turn out fine in the end.

[myfuckinplanet]

Cold winter evening

The rain burn through the city lights, And this city has been burning for quite a while. I'm standing, glowing in the dark. My boots stumble in the puddles, Breaking the shining red, the yellow And the green that dribbles on the black road.

My eyes are burning through the city lights, My brain flushed away by the cold winter rain. I'm standing, stumbling, dibbling in the dark. My hands are missing, and my breath is grey My hair is drooling and my feet take me away.

[myfuckinplanet]

My boyfriend isn’t attracted to me anymore

My ex wasn’t able to touch me because I wasn’t “his type of body”

I can’t lose weight like a normal person

Everyone is eating like shit around me but I’m the only one who looks like a disgusting piece of fat

Teachers tell me I draw poorly

I have no futur whatsoever in the arts

I have no talent

I am like everyone else

Everyone sucks

I’m not special

I just deserve a punch in the face

I’m a fat weak ugly and mean piece of shit

I hate myself

Why was I born in the first place ?

[myfuckinplanet]

I want to die

[myfuckinplanet]

Je suis là, à attendre quelque chose. En vain, le silence se brise et je me retrouve à terre au milieu des milles mots que je n'ai jamais dis. Je suis au fond du gouffre et pourtant je regarde tout le monde de haut. Je hais les êtres humains comme je hais le fond de mon propre coeur traitre et vain. Je suis là et j'attend la mort, cette ombre dont j'ai peur et qui assomme mes rêves et mes cauchemars comme un fermier asseine ses cochons d'un coup de marteau. Je suis là et je te regarde, les larmes dans les yeux, sans trop savoir quoi te dire si ce n'est "j'aimerai être capable de te parler". Mais comment te parler lorsque le fond de chacune de mes paroles est un poignard s'enfonçant dans la chaire, la mienne comme celle de la vie même ? Je suis une meurtrière vivant en exile sur une île appellée "égo", et je me meurs et m'emmure en silence dans un monde de papier qui brûle et s'enflamme comme les cigarettes que je m'enfume. Je me meurs et me suicide à petit feu parce que le faire d'un seul coup d'un seul entraînerai la chute de tes larmes sur le sol, et je ne veux jamais faire pleurer toi ou quiconque. Toi que j'aime d'amour et qui m'aime sans trop se soucier de savoir qui je suis ou qui je suis en train de devenir, toi qui m'aime parce que je t'aime, cet amour d'une simplicité affolante et ridicule. Mais aussi toi, ma mère, femme simple qui m'a porté dans son ventre pendant 9 putains de mois et qui m'a accouché dans ce monde dans la douleur et le sang. Ni toi, mon père, ce collosse au pied d'argile qui vit dans l'ombre salée et humide de la mort depuis plus de vingt ans, toi qui broie du noir et t'étouffe et te meurs en silence et à petits feux. Je suis les traces de mon père comme entraînée dans la chute d'un domino et je m'effondrerai dans sa disgrâce.

Je porte le monde entier sur mon dos et l'on ose me demander pourquoi j'ai le visage tourné contre terre. Je suis là, le goût de la boue encore sur la langue quand on me demande "mais pourquoi ces idées noires d'encre ? Pourquoi ne dessines-tu plus ? Pourquoi ?" Parce que j'arrive dans un monde où rien ne se fait comme je le désire. Je suis en peine de devoir créer des imbécilités comme on me le demande et non comme je le veux et le sens. Chacuns de mes pas, chacune de mes idées est questionnée et remise à sa place, et j'attend un hochement de tête lorsqu'on ne me donne que des coups de bâton. Rien de ce que je fais n'est voulu. Des avortements sur papier. Des sifflements de tempête hurlant contre le vent et la pluie salée des larmes et de la frustration.

Je suis noyée dans un torrent de créativité. Tout le monde est là à lever la main "MOI, MOI, REGARDEZ MOI" mais personne n'est spécial. Personne ne sort du lot. Nous sommes tous minables et seul l'argent compte lorsqu'on veut accomplir quelque chose de sa vie.

Je nous déteste tous.