#anorexia brain is fucking forever like go away

[moonogre]

It’s so crazy how sometimes I’ll eat and be like “damn it’s like you’ve been in a three year long binge” and I’m like no girl you’re just in remission from active anorexia like CALM DOWN

Need to go back to therapy… 🤦🏿‍♀️

[highstwildflower]

Skinny Skinny

TW: eating disorder/ Anorexia. You are very beautiful just the way you are and worthy of love. Have a good day precious <3

The warm rays from the sun tingled the fragile skin on your leg as you laid in your bed. Slowly your body woke you up, already when your eyes open for the first time your heart ached. As if all sadness of the world rested in your heart. It had been like this for a long time, every single day. Your life so unbearable that sleeping was the only escape, so you slept. A lot. In your sleep you had it all, the perfect body, the perfect education, the perfect job, the perfect home and most importantly the perfect man. Him. But than you woke up to real life. Your life was empty and meaningless you thought to yourself. Slowly realizing that you weren't able to fall back asleep you got out of the bed. Bare feet making their way to the bathroom to relive yourself. Steady gaze upon the floor, ensuring that you avoided the mirror, your own reflection the biggest enemy. Picking at the strong band around your wrists you did your business before making your way to your kitchen. All you needed was some what. That was all the body really needed. Eagerly you gulped down the big glass of water, feeling the familiar feeling of content take over your body. Reaching for your phone you groaned as your realized today's date. Your anniversary. A little more pain felt your body, the idea of more pain filling your body felt impossible. The only thing you wanted to do was sleep, but you couldn't so the next best thing was the gym. Moving back to the bedroom you picked out black yoga pants and a black hoodie. Ensuring you were as hidden as possible. The last thing you wanted was attentive. You spent hours at the gym, everyday. Today was no different, the girl at the front desk offering you a polite nod as you entered the gym. Cardio being you go to, you went for a run. The wheezing feeling as air left your lungs faster than your heart could work the oxygen back was everything to you. You could run forever, or at least until the black dots began to dance infront of your eyes. Today it was extra hard for you to leave, the image of Ashton leaving you hunted you. "y/n we can't do this no more, you need help. You cannot give me what you don't have. Because you get so tired of you try to do that. When you forget about you and stop taking care of you. You become empty. With nothing to share. I can't do that to you" his words were printed into your brain. A broken record playing again and again. You had always been a thin girl, and one to take care of what you are as well as staying fit. But when Ashton had left you alone because of tour it had went downhill. You stepped on the scale the day after he left. A gasp had left your lips as the number had risen with 13 pounds. You mind played back all the beers you had shared, all the junk food sitting at you hips now. So you had gotten into the habit of weighting yourself everyday, and progress was made. You lost more than 13 pounds tho. Leaving you sickly skin. Ashton has left a beautiful curvy girl at home and came home to a boney fragile shadow of the woman he loved. Black in-sunken eyes had stared back at him as he told about tour life, no life left as your mind slowly was calculating how much running it would take for the cold beer to be out of your body again. He had tried for about a year, slowly encouraging you to eat some more. For a moment you saw it, you wanted to eat but you wanted to be thin. So you allowed your second face to win, the one who always told you how disgusting you were and how fat you were. The ridicules insane thing being that you adored larger body, found the beautiful. Naturally you had just always been thin, but you also enjoyed filling your body with healthy nutrients. He had left you when he felt as if he was doing more harm to you than good. He made sure that the other boys cheeked up on you, the weekly messages being like salt in your wounds slowly you had stopped answering. Wanting to break from everything. Ashton wasn't to blame for any of this. Maybe you heartbreak but you weren't even sure that he was to blame for that. You were both two halo trying to make a whole, both

observed with your self image. Both haunted by being nothing and everything at the same time. You missed him, you really did. But maybe he was right, that is what you had chosen to believe at least. Breaking yourself from your thoughts you were confused as you saw a black Range Rover in your driveway. You weren't expecting any guest and you sure as hell did not want any guests. Slowly making your way to the house, you saw his brown curls before anything else. You didn't stand a change as his eyes meet yours. The ground grumbled beneath you, crying you felt to your knees. How embarrassing but you just couldn't stand it, not today. "y/n honey! Are you ok?" His voice was concerned but you put out a hand, indicating you need time and space but that you were ok. Surely you gained composure over yourself again and stood to meet him again. "Hi what's up" it was way to casual for the welcomest you just had offered him. Way to sluggish for the man whom you lived with every fiber in your body. Pushing beside him to unlock the door you left him plenty of time to answer, his strong voice breaking you apart slowly "I just wanted to swing by, make sure you were good" mentally you were figuring out how to make him run away, but you were also contemplating how to make him stay forever. "I can see that you aren't doing to well y/n. I'm worried" he words were like a slap. You were doing excellent, loosing more weight than ever before while feeling heavier that every before- everybody dream right? "You lack of response isn't going to push me away y/n. I thought about it a lot before I came today, and I still standby what I said." You looked dumbfounded at him, did he really come all this way just to rub it in? The anger began to boil inside you along side the strong overwhelming feeling of sadness "what the fuck do you mean Ashton!?" Your anger took him back, his eyes a little more alert now" I'm here for you no matter what. I'm here as a friend until you are ready to be lovers again" his words hit you like a truck, failing at standing tall you collapsed into his strong arms as uncontrollable sobs left your mouth. He tried to collect his beautiful broken girl in his arms, so desperately wanting to put her back together. But this was beyond him, as it was beyond you. In agreement you went to treatment, as you had almost finished Ashton admitted himself to another treatment center. Both of you struggling with the balance of love and mental health. But as of right now you as individuals were more important, and every day the strong vow of friendship healed your both as you tried to break the mean cycle of skinny skinny thoughts.

[full-of-roman-angst-trash]

Trapped and Lost

Part two of Blind and Naive

(Part 1) (You are here) (Part 3)

TW: Unsympathetic Virgil, Abusive Virgil, Unsympathetic Patton, Abusive Patton, Abused Roman, Abused Logan, Toxic Prinxiety, Toxic Logicality, Verbally and Emotionally Abusive Relationship, Fighting, Violence, Dismissal of Feelings, Cursing, Manipulation, Belittling, Symptoms of PTSD, Gaslighting, Body Shaming, Mention of Self-Harm, Self-Doubt, Anorexia, Roman Passes Out, Self-Deprecation, Negative Body Image, Negative Thoughts, Negative Self-Talk, some Logan angst, and A LOT of Roman angst

If I missed any, please tell me and I will add it.

Pairings: Toxic Prinxiety, Toxic Logicality, Intrulogical, Roceit

Word count: 3744

~~~~~~Roman’s P.O.V~~~~~~

By the time, I finished telling them everything an hour had passed. Everything about how the relationship started, how it slowly became worse and worse, how I tried telling Patton and Logan but they didn’t believe me, how much it took a toll on me. Everything on how I fell into an unhealthy eating habit, how I began self-harming and never stopped, how I grew dependent on Virgil, how I overworked myself, I even told them about the voices that I hear in my head.

Just everything. 

By the end, we were all in tears and I was being held by both Janus and Remus. We sat there in silence, the only noise being the occasional sobs and sniffles coming from each of us.

After a few more minutes of just hugging each other, Remus breaks the silence.

“Ro, I’m so sorry that happened to you...” His voice is hushed and heavy with sympathy, “I love you so much... Please never forget that...”

He slowly pulls away from the hug and looks me straight in the eyes. His face is somber, his eyes and nose are red and puffy, dried tears marking his face. The hurt and regret in his face nearly makes my heart shatter all over again.

“P-please...” The tears start again, “Please s-stop torturing yourself... Y-you’re the best brother ever and I can’t imagine losing you...”

I bite my tongue and look down.

This is all my fault... He’s hurting because of me... I should have never told him...! He’s crying because of my actions...

I try to force myself to speak. To make a vow to never hurt myself again. To comfort him and tell him I won’t torture myself anymore. To reassure him that I will break up with Virgil. To promise him that I will be okay and that I will get better.

But... I can’t... Because it would be a lie...

I deserve to punish myself... I deserve this torture... This is what I get for always ruining everything... For always being a burden... For being so worthless and a waste of space... For not being good enough... 

“I-I’m s-sorry...”

The words come out almost on instinct. I wasn’t even sure why I was apologizing. Was it because I couldn’t follow his plea? Was it because I made him cry? Or maybe because of both? Or maybe it was neither and it was just because I was afraid of being punished?

Whatever the reason, the words came out and rang in the room, falling like a heavy fog on our hearts.

“Ro-” Remus goes to say something but is caught off when a side appears in the room with us. 

“ROMAN!” I immediately recognize the voice.

Anxiety...

I quickly hide behind Remus and Janus, yet I can still feel Virgil’s glaring stare on me.

Janus is the first out of the three of us to speak up, “What do you think you are doing here?” His voice is cold and unloving, “You have to leave. You’re not welcomed here.”

Virgil scoffs, “Give me back Roman, he has work to do,” He keeps his voice nonchalant and firm. 

I hear Remus let out a deep growl, “FUCK NO! I’M NOT LETTING YOU TAKE HIM! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM ANOTHER DAY WITH YOU ASSHOLES!”

I take a hold of Remus’ arm and give it a gentle squeeze, a silent plea for him to stop shouting.

“Shut the hell up Remus! This doesn’t concern you!” Virgil starts to raise his voice which instinctively makes me flinch and begin to panic.

“And how exactly doesn’t this concern me? You’re abusing MY brother. This absolutely does concern me,” Remus seemed to have gotten my plea as he talks in a more quiet voice, but even though his volume changed, his tone is still just as stern and sharp. 

When I don’t hear Virgil respond, I look over at him slightly. The second I see the look in his face, my heart drops. I start shaking, my attempts to keep my breathing steady fail miserably, and my mind gets fussy with instances of Virgil screaming.

“ROMAN! YOU FUCKING IDIOT! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT TELLING OTHERS!?”

I start crying and let go of Remus’ arm, scooting away from him and Janus. My vision is disoriented, my lungs ache and burn, my stomach is in knots and my chest feels like something heavy is crushing it.

At this point, Remus is standing in front of Virgil gripping his morning star tightly, “Don’t you dare yell at him!”

“GET OUT OF THE WAY REMUS! THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND ROMAN!” 

I cover my ears, everything around me becoming blurry, their voices muffled by the loud ringing in my ears. The rest of the situation was a complete blur to me. At some point, I think Remus and Virgil started fighting, Janus tried splitting them up but when he failed he went over to me and tried calming me down, yet he failed once again.

Please don’t let him take me! I don’t want to go back! I don’t want to be with him anymore! I can’t take it! 

Then, I remember feeling a hand tightly grip my arm and start forcibly dragging me out of Remus’ bed, making me cry harder. I could slightly hear Remus scream something, but my brain couldn’t register his words in my panicked state. 

Suddenly, I felt my body being sunk down.

~~~~~~

It took me a while to fully comprehend the situation, yet once I did I was left with a weird feeling of emptiness. I was no longer in the Darkside and was now instead standing in the middle of the living room of the Lightside being glared down by Patton and Virgil.

I was no longer crying or shaking and was just staring blankly at the two so-called Lightsides. I glance at Logan, who was sitting on the couch looking distressed, and I felt bad for him. 

While Patton and Virgil are quite abusive and cold, Logan has always been on the same boat as me. He and Patton began dating a few weeks before Virgil and I did. At first, their relationship seemed really cute and amazing, they both seemed happy. But then... Logan started becoming quieter... distant... smaller... sadder...

Virgil suddenly slaps me, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!? HANGING OUT WITH THOSE USELESS DARKSIDES AND THEN TELLING THEM THAT I ABUSE YOU!?”

I just stay quiet, knowing better than to talk back.

Virgil lets out a long sigh, “Whatever, go to your room and finish that script we gave you. It better be done by tomorrow or you’ll regret it.”

I nod and start walking back, giving Logan a sympathetic smile when I pass by him.

I get back to my room and immediately start working.

~~~~~~

I had been working for about an hour, getting about halfway through my work when I started getting dizzy and tired.

Dammit... Why do I suddenly feel so weak and exhausted...? My head hurts... A-and w-why is everything spinning...? M-maybe I just need some water...?

I slowly stand up and gradually start making my way to the kitchen. I barely make it to the living room before I feel a wave of dizziness hit me so unexpectedly it makes me fall back.

A soft wince escapes my lips and I have to close my eyes, my vision so distorted that it gives me a heavy headache. I take a few shaky deep breaths in a desperate attempt to compose myself. 

After what seemed like forever, I slowly open my eyes. My vision was still a bit blurry but it wasn’t too bad. I take a few more deep breaths and attempt to stand up, however, the second I do I fall once again.

This time though when I fall, everything around me starts going dark and before I know it, I fell into an unwilling sleep.

~~~~~~

As I start waking up, I can hear two voices around me, both of them are low and I quickly recognize them. 

I slowly sit up and weakly mutter out, “Rem...? Janus...?”

They both go silent for a second before turning to me.

“Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?” Janus asked softly, his expression matching the softness of his voice.

I shrug, not exactly sure of how I feel. There was still this small feeling of emptiness in me yet at the same time I felt weak and vulnerable. 

Remus sits down on the floor crisscrossed and looks up at me, gently asking, “What happened Ro? Why did you pass out?”

For a second I was confused as to what he was talking about until I remember what happened.

“I-I don’t know...” I didn’t what to tell them to the truth, I knew that they would get mad at me if I told them the truth.

Of course, the lie didn’t get pass Janus, “Roman, don’t lie to us. What happened?”

I hug myself tightly and bite my lip.

Remus stands up and walks to his closet, he gets out a green octopus plush with a mustache before walking back to me. He hands me the plush and smiles softly.

“It’ll be okay RoRo,” His voice is soothing and gently, “We promise not to get mad, so can you please tell us why you passed out?”

I stop hugging myself and take the plush, hugging it tightly. I sigh and quietly mumbles, “It’s probably because I h-haven’t e-eaten in 9 days... I-I tend to pass out a l-lot...”

“What!?” They both say in unison, utter shock in their face. 

I look down and hug the plush tighter.

There was a moment of silence before Remus speaks up, “We’re going to get you some food Ro, then you should get some rest.”

Nonononono! I-I c-can’t! I’m scared to eat! I’m not supposed to eat! I-I’ll get in trouble! I can’t eat! I-I’m too fat! I-I’m not perfect enough! N-Not yet!

“N-no, I-i’m n-not h-hungry...” Which wasn’t exactly a lie, I have trained myself to ignore stomach pains and hunger.

“Roman, you have to eat. I promise to make something easy and light for you, we just need you to eat,” Janus said in a stern yet gentle voice.

A whimper escapes my lips and I shake my head, “B-but I-I c-can’t...” My voice is so shaky and weak that it makes me cringe.

Why are you so weak!? You’re supposed to be a prince! Perfect! Strong! Better than this! And instead, you’re nothing more than a weak annoying crybaby!  

Remus decides to step in again and gently asks me, “Ro, why don’t you want to eat?”

Part of me isn’t sure of what to say, I knew that if I try telling them the truth I would break down, but if I lied Janus would call me out.  

I sigh and decide to just tell the truth, “I-I have to be s-skinny to be p-perfect... E-eating m-makes me f-fatter then I a-already am...”

Remus slaps me before hugging me tightly. “Are you stupid!? You don’t have to be skinny to be perfect! You’re not fat! You NEED to eat!” He started crying midway through his sentence.

After I got over from the shock of the slap, I slowly hug Remus back and start crying, “B-but... But...- T-that’s what V-Virgil and the v-voices s-say...”

“Well, they’re wrong!” I could tell that Remus was mad, though it was obvious that he wasn’t mad at me, he was more mad at the situation. 

Even though I knew this though, it still scares me a bit. I guess Janus saw the fear in my face or something because he walks up to Remus and puts a comforting hand on his’ shoulder.

“Remus, calm down, you’re freaking Roman out.”

Almost immediately I hear Remus take a deep breath and look at me, “I-I’m sorry...”

I calm down and quietly mumble, “It’s fine Rem, I know you didn’t mean to scare me.”

Remus smiles softly before gently asking, “Can you please eat Ro? We’ll stay with you and you don’t have to eat all of it, just eat as much as you can.”

I stay quiet for a few seconds and then hesitantly nod, “Okay...”

I-it’ll be okay... Right..? T-they’ll be there for me... Janus said that he’ll make me easy to eat food... and Rem said I don’t have to finish it. It’ll be okay.

“Thank you so much, Ro!” He gives me a small squeeze and a bright smile.

My brother’s enthusiasm lets a small smile grow on my face, “Of course, Rem.”

“Well, let’s go you two,” Janus says, turning to the door. 

Remus helps me up and we start following Janus out of the room.

You can do this. Both of them are here for you. They care about you. The “Lightsides” were wrong. They HAVE to be. Because they’re both so sincere and caring. If they say you can eat. If they say that you don’t have to continue doing this to yourself. Then you can do this.

~~~~~~

After about two hours of being in the kitchen, one hour was mostly Janus making the food while the other hour was actually eating, is when we all finish.

Well, “finish” is a kind word...

Both Janus and Remus completely finished all their food. I, on the other hand, only managed to finish a little bit less than half of my plate.

I slowly look up at them and mumble, “I-I’m s-sorry... I-I can’t e-eat anymore...”

They both give me a soft understanding smile.

“It’s okay RoRo, we’re proud of you for eating as much as you did. We also want to thank you. We know that this wasn’t easy for you, and yet you not only agreed to eat but also gave your full effort into eating the most you could.”

Remus’ words completely shock me, “Y-you’re p-proud of m-me...?”

Janus nods, “Super proud Roman.”

Suddenly, I feel myself start crying again, “T-thank you so much! I’ve been waiting to hear those words for SO long!”

They both smile sadly and Rem hugs me tightly, “Of course, Romano.”

I chuckle at the nickname and start wiping my tears, “You’re so mean! You know I hate that nickname!” I jokingly complain.

Remus giggles, “I know Little Miss Tinkerbell.”

I gasp dramatically and give Remus a playful punch in the arm, “Whatever you rat.”

“Both of you stop being such dorks and help me clean up.”

We both grunt and whine.

“But Double D! Cleaning is so boring!!!!!”

“I’m too pretty to clean!!!!”

Janus stands up, jokingly rolling his eyes at us and picks up his plate.

“I don’t care how boring it is and I don’t care how pretty you are, both of you are helping me clean and that’s final.”

I blush a bit and Remus gives me a smirk, “Ooooooh~ JJ, did you just call my brother pretty~?”

I see Janus flush red before turning around and throwing a rag at Remus’ face, “Shut up and help me!” He even adds a small hiss at the end of his sentence, making me blush harder.

Well fuck-

~~~~~~

Janus eventually convinces us to help him and we end up finishing rather quickly. It was also surprisingly fun cleaning with them, even though by the end of it, Jan looked like he was ready to strangle both of us.

We were now currently giggling and messing around in Janus’ room 

Remus’ random rambling is stopped by Janus putting a hand over his mouth.

“Alright, that enough for today you two. Roman, you should get some rest, you still need to make up all that energy that you lost.”

I pout, “But I want to continue messing around with you guys! You two are so fun to hang out with!”

“I know you do Roman,” Janus starts, “But you really need to sleep. We can continue having fun tomorrow.”

I sigh and nod, “Fine. Where am I sleeping?”

“You’re sleeping in my room for now until we move your room here,” Remus answers once Janus takes his hand off of his mouth, “We already set up a bed for you.”

A smile plasters my face, “Alright, thanks, guys.”

They both nod.

“Also, um...” I looked down in embarrassment and quietly mumble, “C-can you guys tuck me in...? P-please...?”

I wait for them to laugh at me and insult me, but to my surprise, they don’t do either of that.

“Sure!” Remus says cheerful, which catches me off guard.

I smile and look up at them, “Thanks, guys.”

“Of course Roman,” Janus smiles softly, “Now come on, let’s go.

We go to Remus’ room, I quickly change into some pajamas Remus let me borrow, and then they both come in and tuck me in.

“Goodnight RoRo,” Remus says quietly.

Janus turns off the light, “Goodnight Roman.”

“Goodnight,” I tiredly mumble.

Then I remember something.

“Hey, guys... If you two choose to confront the Lightsides... Please don’t yell at Lo... He’s been getting abused by Patton as well...” I yawn, half-asleep at this point.

They’re both quiet for a second before Remus speaks up, “Okay Ro. We won’t do anything to Logan. Now get some rest brother.”

I nod a bit and quickly fall into a deep slumber.

~~~~~~Remus’ P.O.V~~~~~~

Once Jan and I make sure RoRo was fully asleep we left the room.

“So, what do we do now?” I turn to Jan and give him an incredulous look.

“Are you really asking me that? I think it’s pretty obvious.”

He sighs and nods, “Let’s go, just remember we’re not there for Logan.”

“Right,” I summon my morning star before we both sink down to pay a small visit to our darling Lightsides

~~~~~~

They were all in the dining room eating, my anger only increasing when I notice that Roman’s empty seat doesn’t have a plate in front of it.

They don’t even bother to make him food!? Of course, he doesn’t eat! They don’t even ensure that he does! They’re all eating happily while Roman has been starving himself!

Before Janus can get their attention or hold me back, I slam my morning star on the table, making part of it to break and food to spill everywhere. After they get over the initial shock, the two abusers turn to us.

“What the fuck!? What is wrong with you!?” Patton is the first to speak.

I scoff, pulling my morning star back,

And here I thought he couldn’t curse, what a hypocrite...

I was just about to fully go off but Janus puts a hand on my shoulder, his silent way of telling me he’s doing the talking. I nod and step behind him, still holding my weapon in a threatening way to make sure they know I am not joking around.

“The better question Morality is, what is wrong with you two?” Janus points to both Patton and Virgil.

Virgil immediately gets defensive, “Nothing is wrong with us! We’re good! Unlike you guys! You two are just imperfections and bad parts that Thomas doesn’t need!”

When I see Janus look down with a somber expression I officially snap, “LOOK WHO’S FUCKING TALKING!?! YOU WERE ALSO A DARKSIDE PARANOIA! AND UNLIKE US, YOU NEVER SHOWED ANY INTEREST OF HELPING THOMAS AND WAS NEEDLESSLY MEAN TO US! ALSO, LAST TIME I CHECKED BEING ABUSIVE IS A CLEAR SIGN THAT SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH YOU!” 

I swing my morning star at him but he sadly dodges. 

“YOU’RE JUST MAD BECAUSE I’M RIGHT!” He weakly retaliates.

“I’M MAD BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN ABUSING MY BROTHER! RESULTING IN HIM BECOMING ANOREXIC AND SELF-HARMING! THEN YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO TAKE HIM AWAY FROM US! AND TO TOP IT ALL OF YOU SAY THOSE AWFUL THINGS TO JANUS!” I swing my morning star at him again, this time successfully hitting his arm.

Virgil winces and Patton immediately rushes to his side. He holds Virgil protectively before glaring at me.

“HOW DARE YOU!? VIRGIL WOULD NEVER ABUSE ROMAN! ROMAN IS JUST BEING AN ANNOYING LYING ATTENTION WHORE!” Patton’s voice was already annoying as it is and his yelling only made his voice a million times more insufferable.

I bite my lip harshly, “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE CALL MY BROTHER THAT! DON’T EVEN FUCKING SAY HIS NAME WITH THAT FILTHY MOUTH OF YOURS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MANIPULATIVE ABUSIVE BITCH! YOU’VE DISMISSED ROMAN’S FEELINGS! FORCED OUT ME AND JAN OUT! AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURED LOGAN! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!”

Patton goes quiet and just goes back to focusing on Virgil, who also seems to be at a loss for words.

Janus steps towards me and hugs me tightly, making me immediately calm down. I drop my morning start and slowly hug Jan back. 

It’s okay... Calm down... You are stooping to their level... 

I start taking some deep breaths and after about a minute I compose myself. Once Janus notices that I’ve calmed down, he slowly pulls away from the hug and turns back to Patton and Virgil.

“We’re leaving. You two are not worth our time,” He then turns to Logan, “Logan, Roman told us that you’ve been struggling here too. Come with us. Roman already said he’s going to move in with us, if you want, you can do the same.”

Logan turns to Janus, his face full of shock yet there was a hint of hope, “R-really...? I-I can go with you guys...?

I give Logan a smile and nod, “Of course, Nerdy Wolverine,” I give him a playful wink.

He smiles a little and blushes softly, “Thank you, and I gladly accept the offer.”

His smile is so beautiful...

I feel a small blush dust my cheeks and a smile grow on my face, “Come on then! We can move your room later.”

He nods and stands up, picking up his book before quickly making his way over to us. 

“W-what!? T-they can’t leave! T-Thomas need them!” Patton finally finds his voice and stutters out.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. They’ll still represent the same thing, they’ll just be safe and well taken care of,” Janus responds in a smug voice.

I give them a condescending smile and goodbye wave, “Bye-bye butt holes!’ I sink down with Logan, followed shortly by Jan. 

Once, we’re back at the Darkside, we both turn to Logan and give him a warm smile.

“Welcome home teach.”

~~~~~~

To Be Continued

Well, one more part to go. I’ll try to post the last part by next week, but no promises. My life was been a bit crazy and challenging lately.

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[isa-ly]

I’M GETTING A DIVORCE

TW: eating disorders, body image, weight, mental illness, depression, anxiety

Yesterday evening was rough. Completely out of the blue, getting-hit-by-a-freight-train type of rough. Usually, when these evening or days occur, I just kind of tend to start fresh the next day and pretend they never happened. Because everyone has bad days, even if you’ve worked hard to restore your general mental health, and it’s okay to just let those days pass and work on being kinder to yourself once the sun rises again.

However, I also want to actively work on not simply ignoring them all together, because while it’s a good thing not to dwell on bad days for too long, it’s also a good thing to not just repress them. And as we all know, I’m quite guilty of doing the latter and labeling it as “fine” when, in fact, it is everything but fine. Keeping a positive spirit is admirable but shutting out everything that cracks the surface of your facade is just not gonna work in the long run. Every emotion is valid and if I can acknowledge feeling happy and comfortable, I can just as well acknowledge feeling sad and shitty.

So, I’m making a compromise. While I don’t really want to talk about how and why yesterday evening was rough, I am still going to talk about something else that sometimes feels equally as hard and difficult to me. As already mentioned in the trigger warnings, there’s going to be talk about eating disorders, specifically anorexia nervosa, as well as body image and weight again. So, if that is in any way harmful to you and you own journey, feel free to just drop this post like a hot potato. (I think this actually is a German proverb, but it sounds so funny in English, so I’m just going for it.)

Now, what I’m about to say might sound somewhat controversial or really, really fucked up but I’ve found that when it comes to eating disorders (and any other mental illness, really), the darkest parts are often the ones you have to really take a good look at, even if it hurts and sounds shocking. And calling them out, dragging them into the open to point at them with your finger, is the only thing that will make them palpable enough to get rid of them. Once again, the Harry-Potter-boggart analogy works quite well here.

Shame and fear fester comfortably in the darkest corners of your brain, like a disgusting mold that slowly takes over. And I don’t really want a moldy brain, so I once again want to use this blog openly talk about something that is nothing short of crappy and awful, in order to take some of its power away. And also just to be honest, with myself and everyone else who happens to read this.

There’s a lot of reasons why it’s incredibly hard to recover from an eating disorder. Of course nothing is impossible, least of all recovery, but I still struggle almost every single day to keep pushing forward. Sometimes that struggle is close to nothing, sometimes it’s manageable and sometimes it seems like the end of the world. And one of the many reasons why it can feel like that last one, is what I and many others who have suffered from this illness like to call “nostalgia for your eating disorder”.

I think we can all agree that regardless of whether you have one or not: Eating disorders are shit. They really suck ass, to no one’s surprise. If I had one wish and one wish only to make, I wouldn’t even have to hesitate a single second: It would be for my ED to vanish forever and never return. Easy. So, then why in the living hell would I feel nostalgic for it? Why would I be hesitant to call my ED out for the life-ruining piece of shit it is? Why do I sometimes catch myself wishing back the times where I would go to bed hungry, where I would feel so in control despite never really having it? Where I would lie and deceive and watch my life slowly fall apart? What idiot would miss something like that?

Well ... an idiot with an eating disorder. 

Alright, I’m not an idiot. And neither is anyone else who feels nostalgia towards this illness. Because even if it sounds ridiculous and outrageous: It’s in fact completely normal to have these thoughts and feelings.

I’ve mentioned before how, when I first crashed into the world of anorexia, it felt like I had completely lost myself and what I had considered to be my personality to this new, foreign entity that had taken over my life in a matter of days. Because actually, for a lot of people – myself included – that is exactly what eating disorders are: A filler for a gap that you don’t know how to close yourself. Like a plug to a tub that has been running out, or a bandaid to a wound that won’t stop bleeding. It’s an emergency solution to a problem that threatens to swallow you. And often times, emergency solutions can’t be analyzed or fact-checked for risk and danger because, well, it’s an emergency. And you’ll accept anything you can get to rescue yourself in that moment.

Back when I developed anorexia, I was completely lost in life. I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be and trying to answer that question overwhelmed me so much, that the only way to cope was to let someone, something else, fill the big black hole that was ripping itself through my chest. Coping comes in all shapes and forms. And mine had the form of a sneaky and cunning eating disorder. 

Often, that is why personality and eating disorders go hand in hand. Because it’s so much more than just an illness that fucks up the way you eat and live. It’s a whole new face you get to put on. It’s terrifying, but that terror is exciting and new because it’s an opportunity. It makes you miserable but at least it makes you something. It fills that void, that fear of being lost. It gives you purpose, and it gave me purpose too when I was at my very lowest. I didn’t know who I was or what to do and anorexia gave me a set of rules, a daily schedule and Do’s and Dont’s that I had to follow, as it watched over me like a hawk. 

Sometimes I see it almost like a parasite, like that weird alien from The Thing that takes on the form of a person to trick you into thinking it’s your friend. Anorexia is very, very skilled at that. And because it’s so skilled at it, it manages to completely convince you of the fact that it is now a crucial part of you that you will never, ever be able to let go again. It’s almost like a personality substitution and that’s exactly why it gets so hard to see it as something entirely foreign that you need to get rid of instead of clinging onto it.

And here’s the thing: As I started recovery and as I started fighting against everything anorexia told me to do, I realized that this fight also meant going back to my very old problem of not knowing who I was. In all the time of being sick and starving, I was at least “relieved” of the burden of having to question what I wanted from life. Not a very balanced deal, I know, but again: emergency solution. 

However, now that I was finally trying to get better and heal, that age old question came back again: What the fuck am I doing? And I could hear my eating disorder chuckling at the back of my mind:

That’s right. I might be ruining your life but who are you without me? No one. You have no idea what to do or where to go. You have no idea who you even are. That’s why I’m here. And besides: Nobody knows you like I do.

And that’s another part of the reason for nostalgia. Please forgive the poor comparison but the closest I can get to making an analogy to it, is to compare it to the principle of Stockholm Syndrom. Just so maybe the notion of it can be understood easier. Because anorexia is abusive and horrible, it literally made me starve myself, made me depressed and hate everything about life. It caged me in and held me captive to the point where I had no freedom, no choice, no joy or happiness left. It ruined everything. 

And all the while it caused me all of that horror, it’s also the only other thing, the only other “person”, voice, existence in my head that shares those memories with me. That knows exactly what I went through. Because we went through it together. It caused me all this pain and trauma – but it also shared it with me. I was never alone, not really, because even when I felt like there was no one or nothing left: Anorexia was always there. Every second of the day and every step of the way. I, it, both of us, know things that to this day, are unspeakable to me. That to this day, I haven’t told anyone because the fact that I was capable of doing such things, still scares me every time I think about them.

We share what are undoubtedly the worst and most painful memories of my entire life and as much as I fucking hate it, I cannot undo this connection. It’s a fucked up bond that I will always have with my eating disorder, even if it makes me angry and frustrated. It’s a connection I never asked for or wanted, but it’s still there and all I can do is learn how to process it in a way where it no longer holds me back and defines me.

Which is the reason for today’s blog title, by the way.

Actually, I got that analogy from a documentary about, you guessed it, eating disorders. In it, one of the counselors at an inpatient clinic compared recovery to the process of divorce. An eating disordered person might very well be aware that they’re in a bad, almost abusive relationship with themselves, or in this case: with their eating disorder. And they might very well be aware that the only way to get better is to let go and move on. But just like in so many divorce situations or break ups, this is way easier said than done. Because there is heaps of memories and emotions connected to this disorder that make you feel close to it, in a way. Feelings of accomplishment, of ambition, of thrill and yes, sometimes even feelings of happiness. False happiness, of course. But even the illusion of a false sense of joy is something that can be very powerful when you’re already beaten down. 

When you’re in such a dark place and your disorder takes over your life, it takes on almost human-like properties. It’s like a friend or a partner, it’s the only relationship you’re still able to have, the only one you are “true” to because everyone else you care about, you lie to. Anorexia isolates, just like any other mental illness tends to do, and it isolated me too. I tried my best to keep face but truthfully, when I was at my lowest, it felt like my eating disorder had managed to break into places of me that had never seen the light of day before. And it had built itself its own little nest there and gotten so comfortable and settled, that the thought of ever kicking it out, terrified my just as much as the thought of continuing to live with it.

I mentioned before that I sometimes avoid talking about anorexia like a separate entity that has its own mind, just so it doesn’t seem like it’s bigger than me. Clearly, I’m not doing that now. Because if I’m fully honest, to me, it’s kind of both and also neither. One one hand, I can feel it as something that sits at the back of my brain, at the back of my neck, at the back of my every thought. It’s something I can visualize, hear, feel with every move I make. And on the other hand, it’s not an actual person. Because it’s still just me, it’s how I think and do things, it’s an extension of my need for control. I can’t just separate it into its own realm of existence because we both live in my own brain. We share that space and sometimes anorexia and its opinions and leverage are bigger, sometimes they’re smaller – but for over a year now, they have always been there, one way or another.

So, letting go of it, bidding it goodbye and trying to claim back the space my anorexia has been taking up for so long now, is hard. Because it’s like letting go of a part of myself. A part that causes me pain and suffering, yes. But a part of me nevertheless. And anorexia is a very hot-headed tenant, let me tell you that much. It does not like to be evicted, at all. But it’s not about what my disorder wants, it’s about what I want. And what I need. And that is to live a life free of the boundaries of my eating disorder. Even if it means not fully knowing who I am.

In my last therapy session that I went to, I talked about all of this to Kerstin. About feeling nostalgic and catching myself dwelling in memories that others would probably gasp at in shock. Gladly, Kerstin didn’t gasp because, well, she’d be a crap therapist if she did. But she’s a good one, lucky me. Anyway, in that last session I had, I then tried to come to a conclusion to this whole nostalgia thing, that wasn’t as depressing as the notion of it all. And what I came to was this:

I will never be able to undo what I did. What me and my anorexia did and what it made me do will never be un-lived or forgotten. It is and always will be a part of me. So, actually, trying to “get rid” of it and “kicking it out”, is not really the solution here. Sure, I’d love to flick a switch and have it all be gone in a second. But that’s never going to happen.

What I can do, however, is learn how to live with it in a way where those memories still get their proper place – without defining me anymore. And without dictating my every move and day. I’ve compared my eating disorder to a stubborn child a few times, too. One that throws massive tantrums when you tell it “no”. Because that’s what it does, mostly. However, another thing that it has in common with a child, maybe even with the child inside of me, is that it’s so, so scared of being left behind. Of being abandoned and forgotten. In a way, it’s exactly that. My anorexia is pieced together by so many of my insecurities and just like me, it doesn’t want to be abandoned. In fact, it’s so scared of it, that it fights back with teeth and claws and with all its might, to stay safe and comfortable where it is. It throws tantrums and breaks out into screaming fits because it’s terrified that once it goes silent, it will be forgotten.

So, actually, instead of treating it like some sort of external force, like a gnarly stomach ulcer (good one, Isa) or like a parasite, I have actually started to treat it more like a scared kid or a wounded animal. With patience and gentle words. With understanding but also with a certain sternness. Literally like a parent that is trying to calm down their raging child. Reassuring it that I have no intentions of cutting it out or pushing it away, but actually to let it stay under the condition that it remains a quiet and passive part of me. Until eventually, it accepts the silence I ask of it and, indeed, fades into something that doesn’t take up most of my living hours anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, 90% of the time my anorexia and me are still in a silent screaming fight over whether or not I can have a chocolate bar. Theory and practice often lie very, very far apart from each other. But the other 10%, the ones where I actually manage to practice what I preach – those are the ones that, to me, matter the most.

Because those are the ones where I can almost feel me and my eating disorder staring each other down from across the room in silence. The ones where I can tell that both of us are scared. Both of us are hurting. Both of us are smart. Both of us are strong.

But only one of us is right.

[justkeepingitreal]

Leaving the past where it belongs!!

So I haven't blogged in a long time!! I have struggled to find the words and tell my truth, but going through what I have and finally coming out the other side and writing again might actually help make me feel proud everytime I read it, and I also hope that it will help many other people who have experienced the same thing.

In my first blog I talked about marital rape, this stigma is still round, people don't think that its an actual thing, well I am here to tell you it really is!! It was only when my husband finally left i really understood what it meant to be raped. When my husband left he left me with the mortgage to pay and every bill, and he was the bread winner who had the income, I had to wait 6 weeks on benefits excuse I needed to feed my kids and he wouldn't at that point he wouldn't give me a dime. I was such a mess that I ended up having a one night stand!! Sorry what I though was suppose to be a one night stand with my next door neighbour, well little did I know what was going to come of this!! This man literally became obsessed, in my house when ever he wanted to, scared me into doing things I didn't want to do, like sniffing coke, did it once and hated it, little did I know what was going to come my way.

So one day I rang my mother inlaw and asked if my ex husband was there and she started laughing, my heart sank and in that moment I knew he had another girl upstairs, I asked if he could go to the shop and grab afew bits for the kids and he said when I'm done, he went upstairs and finished the girl off and didnt care( I love this girl to bits by the way she is amazing 💗) that night I started to have a drink and my other mate was there, after 2 glasses of wine I became very violently sick, my other mate left and I was left with the fella who wouldn't leave me alone, as I was being sick over the toilet me started touching me, he got me to my room and kept trying to sleep with me!! I used the excuse that kids lunches need made and I needed to go and make them, when I made it downstairs I started falling over the place my arms where floppy and I couldn't move properly, I fell to the floor and he proceeds to sexually assault, the floor was completely covered with blood and he hurt me holding me down!! I tried to fight with all I had and at this point I knew he drugged me, he even made a joke as he wiped the blood off his hands and trying to clean his jeans. He got upset over me being annoyed with my ex husband.

I broke it off and well a restraining order plus police bail and then court bail was given, this man tortured me and wouldn't leave me alone, he petrol bombed a family members house and when I tried to press him for rape he put a hit on me, he wanted me dead!! I lived in fear for over a year had to move a few times whilst battling serious depression and wanting to end it all as the pain was just to much, I also had to have surgery to repair the damage he done to me!! I know raped by two men!! Yes it actually happens he knew to drug me though, that's why I rarely drink now I can't bring myself to fully let go and enjoy myself again unless I'm with my friends who I trust.

Me and the ex husband got back and fourth a few times before he left for another woman, this woman was going to be the woman who changed who he was forever. We started off friends she manipulated every situation and got everything the way she wanted! Little did she know when I stated counselling and putting my foot down by god they didn't like it. She told me a sob story about how her mum was an alcoholic and let men into her room and was gang raped and in hospital after it, to justify being with my husband who was a rapist!! So much went down and she worked her magic so good she managed to make him believe i was the bad person and he walked away from his kids, yes I was the bad person who apparently in his head stopped him seeing his kids. Well initially I did, I wanted rules and boundaries in place for my kids to be safe going to his house, he wouldn't agree to anything and I wouldn't back down!! A narcissistic asshole doesn't like being stood up to, but I wasn't that scared little girl anymore, I was a single mother raising 3 special needs children alone. He can tell everyone I was the bad person I know my story and the truth, he can live in his wee world all he likes.

I moved out of my hometown to be safe, and with the other fella who wouldn't leave me alone is now in jail serving 4 years but will be released next May, justice system over here is a fucking joke. I won't get my justice for that rape as bit enough evidence apparently.

My ex husband of the other hand well!! I waited the long game, he signed the divorce papers with the rape on it, see not as stupid as I look ehh!! I did decide after he signed them and walked away from the kids as did his mum and sister, I mean for my kid to lose one side of the family in one day, talk about traumatic, that I wanted him in jail for the years of rape and the mental torture of gaslighting and manipulating me every chance he got, I want him to pay for the hell and suicidal breaking point I got too, he deserves to rot in jail for what he put me through and his kids, and her standing by his side knowing all well that he is a rapist and deemed a risk to women!! Shame on her.

My last piece of recovery is my eating disorder, I have Atypical anorexia- all the traits except being under weight!! I would starve myself 48 hours at a time, either stress or the severe panic attacks i was having I couldn't eat, it got so bad my body started taking over, I couldn't actually eat and when I did was like 2 bits of toast after 48 hours, then another 48 without food. I was pushing myself at kick boxing and just never feeling happy about my body, but then got so bad a was damage my body amd still today I have anemia and still struggling, well now I am in recovery and omg it has been so hard, forcing to myself to eat my push last the pain and yes pain!! My body hadn't been eating properly for so long it was readjusting and bu god it was very painful, and even right this second I struggle tk get past the two meals a day, to reset ur Brain that all food is good and that starving yourself isn't the best thing to do is harder than it looks. People think sure just eat, it isn't a simple as that I was gagging put food to my mouth!! I have lost over 2 and half stone trying to recover and eat normally!! I did start to restrict my food at Christmas time again afraid to put any weight on and with no kick boxing I was terrified of any weight gain, but I am on the right path and I am so proud of myself getting to where I am, without antidepressants and working really hard to get to where I am, now I still have bad days, and can go in and out of not being really there, but PTSD is a real thing and its always a working progress, but I have the right support now and letting people in and actually accepting help is a massive step for me, I need to be in good health and mentally good for my kids!! Snd standing up to these men and taking no more and sending their asses to jail, well they done the crime!! Do the fucking time.

I really hope my story helps other people!! It just shows that people can really go through a round time and still come out the other side. So this is where my past stops haunting me and I can move on, isn't easy but then what is in life

[coffee1-1cat]

The truth about ED’s

If you’re really determined to fuck up your life in every way possible, then it is absolutely possible. Just like it is possible to be a doctor, even if you’re not good at science, math, etc. If you put in the effort, anything is possible. But let me tell you what you’re in for when you come across all of this thinspo and “inspiration to get skinny”.

Most (and I mean like 97%) of the “ana bloggers” on here are here because they are already head and shoulders deep into a MENTAL DISORDER. Or, they are relapsing (like moi). I DO NOT CONDONE THIS TO ANYONE. This blog is for my own venting because I do not love myself. I never have. I don’t know why, because I am surrounded by people who love me and want the best for me. But if you are new to this, and if you think this is a hot new fad, fashion trend, or any kind of good motivation, you are so incredibly WRONG. Get the fuck out while you can. This is hell. I look back and wonder where I went wrong, where I decided I would keep going when I knew I was unhealthy, where I started crying myself to sleep because my body was so out of control. It’s become a very unhealthy coping mechanism, and the others who have blogs on Tumblr for this shit is because we need a venting space. I hope to recover one day, but I can honestly say I do not remember the last time I ate something and loved it without thinking about calories, if I would gain weight, or how I was going to make up for it. This is the second year of an active eating disorder for me, and it is awful. It takes away all of my happiness, joy, love, and even the qualities of a decent human being.

Anorexia can cause osteoporosis, hair loss, anemia, muscle loss, organ damage, brain damage, and all of those horrible things. Restricting is not necessarily a bad thing, but when it gets lower than 1200 calories a DAY, it is VERY, VERY, HIGHLY DANGEROUS. Love yourself more than that. You don’t deserve what I’ve given to myself.

Anorexia is NOT A JOKE. IT IS NOT SOME SORT OF CUTE THING YOU CAN DO FOR A LITTLE WHILE AND STOP WHENEVER YOU WANT. It is an addiction. A horrible, raving, never-giving-up, stealing-your-life-away sort of addiction. I know I will have to deal with this for the rest of my life. Therefore, those of you who are new, who just want to be “skinny”, GET. OUT. WHILE. YOU. CAN. Before it takes everything from you. Before it ruins birthdays, Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, NYE, Valentine’s Day, and every other happy thing that normal human’s enjoy. Tumblr is a space for those who are hurting and those who are thriving. It can be incredibly helpful or it can be toxic for those who don’t understand what they are getting into.

Please, please, please, if you are a “new ana”, go back to your family dinners, breakfasts, and lunches. Do not enter this hell hole. Do not allow yourself to fall into this. Eating healthy is amazing! That is so good! I would be so proud if this influenced just ONE person to turn away and resume a healthy, active lifestyle. However, even if it doesn’t, I have done my part to warn you. I cannot control you. I can not force you. Therefore, do with this warning what you will. If I could see you right now, yes, YOU READING THIS, I would hug you so tight and say you are worth it. You are more than that boy or girl who broke your heart. You are more than that comment that picked right at those old scabs. You are so, so much more than that family member who tore you down, influenced you, and made you do things that have haunted you forever. I love you so much, and I want what is best for you. Don’t do this to yourself. You are worth so much. No amount of gold, starlight, diamonds, precious metals, or precious stones could compare to your shine. You are not just a body. You are a soul, a spirit, and a life. Don’t give it up for this shit.

[awed-frog]

Hi! Sorry that I ask u this, u don't need to answer anyway: what would u say to a selfish bulimic and stupid human being, who can't do anything right? Not even like the other genre to at least make it a little easier for her parents? And please don't say "get help" bc I'm not talking about this (yeah it's harder to write in first person I guess whatever)

Oh, sweetheart. I would tell you that bulimia is a mental health issue, and being gay is just who you are, so neither is a thing you chose or something that’s even remotely your fault.

I don’t know how much this can help you, but here is my advice.

The bulimia needs to go. It’s an illness, and it’s a dangerous illness. I know you said you don’t want to, but if at all possible, you should see a therapist - it’s hard to guide you since I don’t know where you live, but in many countries, there are places when you can go anonymously and for free to discuss this kind of issues (hospitals, school psychologists, mental health centres). I think the best thing would be to open up to someone close to you (an adult if possible: maybe a teacher, or a relative you trust?) and explain that you need to talk to someone. 

(Don’t say about what - that’s your business. Just ask for advice.) 

If you feel you can’t do that, try to find an online community (it’d be great to connect with someone who’s living in your country) and ask them if they know of any therapists in your area. And, look, I know this is the last thing you want to hear, because I’ve been there more than once - a very good friend of mine struggled with anorexia for years, and I’m slowly getting over an eating disorder myself - but you need to let someone know. You need to get help. Mental health issues are almost impossible to overcome without some kind of external support, and accepting that is the first step on your path to get better. 

As for being gay - there is nothing wrong with it. Nothing. In fact, it’s not always easy to know who we are at all, so I’m proud of you for figuring out your sexuality so soon (since you mention your parents, I’m assuming you’re a young person - I apologize if that is not the case), and, remember, you don’t owe that knowledge to anyone. From what I understand, you came out to your parents, and I can’t imagine the courage it took for you to do that, but don’t feel you need to live openly as a lesbian right now if you don’t want to. Your sexuality is your own, and no one’s business. So it’s not about ‘making it easier for your parents’ or anything like that, because your parents simply have no right to dictate who you should love. If your sexuality is a problem for them, that’s not your fault - it’s theirs. And again, I don’t know where you live, but the good news is that in many countries around the world, life for the LGBT community is improving. So I know you find it hard right now, but please believe me: it does get better. When we’re in a bad situation, we mostly see no way out, or we think it’s going to last forever (and this affects young people even more, because of how their brains are wired), but that is not the case. Things change. If you’re comfortable doing so, try to connect with other people from the LGBT community - find places, online or offline, were you can be yourself and hear about others’ experiences. That really helps.

And finally - your parents. It’s difficult to give you advice without knowing exactly what’s going on, but let me say this: I had many conversations with parents - I decided to talk to my mother about my eating disorder, and I also talked to parents of students and friends of mine (with their consent, of course), and mostly what emerges is this: most parents love their kids without reason but are not necessarily mature or good at handling relationships with other people, and that means their first reaction to anything out of the ordinary is worry and anger. So I would say - either your parents are reacting badly because they love you and worry about you, or they belong to that minority of people who’re just not capable of understanding, empathy, forgiveness and tolerance - not even when their own kids are involved. In the first case, they will probably come to accept that this is who you are (I’ve seen it happen several times), and in the second - walking away from one’s parents, or realizing they’re never going to love you the way you need them do, is always difficult and painful and profoundly unfair, but sometimes it’s the only thing you can do. And when that happens, the problem is not you - it’s them. They’re your parents, they’re adults - is their responsability to meet you halfway, and to be there for you no matter what. So if they can’t, it’s never because you weren’t good enough - it’s something wrong deep in their hearts - please don’t forget that. Now, whether you’re still living with them or not, please don’t let yourself become obsessed with those thoughts (‘My parents don’t like me, my parents think I’m not good enough’). Instead, focus on yourself. Make plans for the future, get better at what you like doing, create and nurture connections with people who love you - and don’t worry about your parents too much. 

(Important: if you think you’re being abused, or that you’re going to get hurt or hurt yourself, seek help at once.) 

Final note: I just reread what I wrote and I’m not completely happy with it, so let me get personal for a second. I’ve been where you are. I know what it means to have an eating disorder. If you’ve never talked about this with anyone, and if you’ve never read about these issues, you may think you’re the only one going through this - the only one ‘weak’ enough, ‘selfish’ enough and ‘stupid’ enough to behave in that way. That is not the case. You say you’re stupid and selfish - I see myself in these words. I know what it’s like to be deeply ashamed of who you are and yet unable to change. I know what it’s like to buy food in secret, to steal food, to eat food you don’t want to eat, to pretend you want to have dinner when you’re so full or so empty or so goddamned depressed you can’t even sit up straight. I know what it’s like to get caught by other people doing something you’re not supposed to be doing - how some are disappointed, others concerned, and others yet just shocked and angry and what the hell is wrong with you? You’re not alone in this. Almost five million women in the US suffer from bulimia. On fifth of the population has some kind of eating disorder, and statistically, in every class one student is struggling with anorexia nervosa. So I understand you don’t want to tell anyone, and I don’t want to be harsh here, or to scare you, but you need to. I know it’s hard, but you need to be brave and get help. An eating disorder can lead to anxiety, mood swings, and self-harm. It can do severe damages to your body. It can kill you. And the thing is, it’s an illness like any other, so that shame you feel (the same shame I felt - the terror anyone would find out) - that’s the sick part of your mind trying to stay sick. It’s not real. A health professional will never judge you, whatever you tell them. Talking to a therapist will help. You can get better, and you will. So, please - I’m not asking you to make a decision straight away, because I know perfectly well how hard it is, but please, please consider it. Allow the idea to get inside your mind. Get information about bulimia, contact a support group, connect with people who have experience with it. It’s unfair and fucked up that mental health issues should be considered so differently from other kinds of health issues. Think: if you had a broken arm, would you try to hide it? Would you say, ‘Just tell me how to get better on my own, because I’m not seeing a doctor’? Of course you wouldn’t. And bulimia is exactly like a broken arm. There is no difference between the two. And I understand how difficult it is to talk to family and friends about it - if you don’t want to, don’t do it - but you need to talk to someone. Doing what you did today - reach out anonymously - that’s a great start, and I’m proud of you for doing that. And you know what? When I read your message, I didn’t see a ‘stupid’ and ‘selfish’ woman - I saw someone who’s strong and brave and determined to build a life for herself. You’re gay in a world where it’s often difficult to be gay, and you’re going through life fighting against a disease every single day and you live in an environment that is not supportive, and yet you don’t give up - you chose to ask for help today - you’re a goddamn hero. Seriously - you’re an amazing person, and one day you’re going to look back on this period of your life and barely remember how painful it was. So - hang on, okay? Things will get better - I promise you.

Here are a few websites to get you started. I wish you all the best, and please come back and talk to me if you want to - on or off anon.❤

It Gets Better Project |LGBT Youth UK |GLAAD |LGBT forums

HelpGuide | NHS | US hotlines | NCFED UK | NEDA forum | Psych forum

[adventures-in-asexuality]

bi-gray replied to your post “I keep sitting down with myself, trying to go, okay, let’s look at...”

What is upsetting you?

(putting under a cut because long and probably boring. thank you for asking)

- Health stuff. Short-term I am kind of terrified about going back to work tomorrow, about trying to get through each day, each week, and the next, and the next... you get the picture. Way too much pain, way too much fatigue, way too much other bullshit side effects. Long-term, I am concerned about how this is only getting worse, faster and faster. I’m not really managing now. I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal if/when it keeps getting worse. (I suspect I’m not supposed to deal, really. But I have to do something.)

The obvious answer here is ‘go back to the fucking doctor, Libris’. Partly this is an issue because, well, I’m barely managing to get to work; it’s not like I have extra spoons to go to the doctor on top of that. (And it’s not like they have appointments, either. >_>) But the bigger issue there is that no one ever believes me. ‘just take less painkillers. deal with it. get some more exercise, lose weight maybe.’ (I would take an advocate - that does help - but my geographically closest friend is in fuckin Amsterdam, unfortunately.) That doesn’t mean I don’t still need to try and get to the doctor when I, hah, feel well enough - but given that, and the complete lack of treatment for any of this, I’m not holding out hope. (Don’t take painkillers! Get CBT so that you’re not upset about being in pain, because thinking that it sucks and has notable cognitive symptoms and impairs your ability to do literally anything is just your brain lying to you!)

I am working towards being able to work from home sometimes, which will help a little. My manager doesn’t get why that won’t stop me from being sick, but it’s a step.

- Related to that, it really frustrates me that I just... can’t do anything. Like, the go-to thing for being depressed is ‘do something, occupy your mind, then you’re occupied and can be pleased that you did a thing’. And that’s worthwhile - but, I can’t do anything. I try to write, but my brain is always completely blank; I try to build games, same; write music, make interactive things - whatever you please, my brain just. Won’t. And I can’t go for walks; I can’t exercise; I can’t cook or clean or whatever. I’m just. Stuck.

- Which is also another thing: I can’t really find a goal, which is a problem. Like, my way of dealing with things has always been: everything sucks, but I have a goal to work towards, and that will make things better. And now - I lost that goal, and I am spending 150% of my spoons barely keeping up the status quo of ‘staying alive’. And as far as I can see it’s just going to get worse. Which is... not very encouraging, in terms of reasons to hold on and keep going through all the awful. (I realise this sounds really emo and stupid. Sorry. I’m not doing fantastic.)

I don’t really have solutions for either of the above (I mean, or they wouldn’t be problems!). I am working on getting a new laptop, both to work from home when I can and to play games, so that at least I can do something beyond reading webpages and the like. But it’s still a bit of an issue that I haven’t solved.

Those are, I guess, the Big Life Problems that I haven’t solved. The ones underneath are probably smaller; they are still bad and I hate them or they frustrate me, but they don’t keep leading to ‘you are just gonna die’. >_>

- I am really frustrated about the whole caring/feelings thing again. I know this keeps coming around; I still haven’t solved it to my satisfaction. I... try really hard not to care too much about people, because that doesn’t seem to end well. As far as I can tell, I got so good at building the robot hologram girl that can look after people and be there for them and tell them she enjoys their company and so on, without wanting or caring about things in return, that no one really wants the inconvenience of an actual Libris? (And I mean, that is understandable; convenience and kindness is everything. And this does sound more douchey than I mean it to; I don’t mean that me looking after people isn’t genuine, I just... try not to get attached. People don’t want that. And it makes me sad. And then I end up accidentally caring about people anyway and then I angst about it like I am doing here.)

I would like to be able just to stop caring about people, but that isn’t quite a solution. (It would be a good one! It would stop hurting every time I’m reminded how eternally unwanted it is! But here we fucking are!) I don’t have another one. (Well, I should probably have some sort of conversation at some point with at least one of the people involved. But I am unsure how to or what I’d want to say or what the point even would be, so I am throwing an internal tantrum about it. >_>) I do hate just being pushed away, though. *shrug*

- I really really really hate sexuality stuff. I wish I could just burn it out of me, make it gone, make it so that I stopped caring or had never cared or could just still be completely ace and never ever really want to touch anyone, be completely self-sufficient forever. I hate that it’s real I hate that I care I hate that there’s never really appropriate ways to talk about shit or even know what a solution might be or try to find out I hate it I hate it I hate it. [Also, like, insert here general rants about anorexia.]

I know that isn’t a solution. I know I’m supposed to be okay. I don’t know how to be.

- Related to all of the above, I can feel myself doing the isolation thing again, and it frustrates me because I don’t know what’s true. I don’t know how much I’m supposed to Not Talk about shit. I don’t know whether people don’t talk because they don’t like me or because they feel awkward or because they fell asleep. I don’t know what people want from me to make them happy. I don’t know how they want me to be. I don’t know if trying not to talk about shit is politely respecting their boundaries or making them unhappy that I’m withdrawing or anywhere in between. I just don’t know.

I don’t have a solution for that. I keep trying to watch people and find out what they want. Talk about inconsequential things and see how they react. Try to leave them alone and wait for them to seek me out. None of these are great strategies, so I am just yelling a bit.

Sorry. This got extremely very long. Thank you for reading. >_>

[pink--tourmaline]

I hate people making anorexia cool or pretty.

to anyone who doesn't understand or believe how fucked up an eating disorder is, the only way to explain anorexia would be like, a form of suicide. You are just suicidal, but rather then make it a quick painful death your brain just rejects anything to you keep you alive. When your problem is yourself you want to grasp control of what you can your brain just spirals and manifests a state of self-destruction. A human ticking time bomb. You will die unless you find a reason not to... if you cant fix you then its not worth living.   Dont aspire to an eating disorder, its a anxiety you carry forever it feels like living but dead. The hardest part is being told your brain is wrong for as long as you aren't well again. Imagine for months, years maybe being told the way you think is wrong. Its like you believe 2 + 2 = 4, and then they say no its 1. What makes sense now is constantly confronted and its hard. Im not going to lie being told your head is wrong is hard and makes you angry and resent people and thats how you lose people. You cant help be, because when your life revolves around your self-destruction, its takes time for brain to oppose itself like that., its a lonely illness, in order to work. It’s fucked, reality is just opposite and a daze everyday it feels wrong and right. Your sad but thats what you deeply want so it keeps you happy, but thats not real happiness. You need people and you cant expect people to watch you self-destruct. 

It looks pretty according the media, so you get away with it, its admirable to many. Thats why people except it and stereotype it. Anorexia came long before media, but you can ignore whats healthy from unhealthy if we don't even understand ourselves. Taught to believe it is ‘cool’ or whatever. Media doesn't create anorexia, it lets it happen. It the gateway for people feeling shit to disappear without anyone noticing till its too late. 

[borderlinethoughts123-blog]

Feb 10/2019

These long night shifts give me lots of time to think. I think about everything I hate in my life, everything I am dis-satisfied with, everything I failed to accomplish during the light hours, every plan I made and then did not fulfill . When I am at work is when I am the least satisfied with my life outside of work. I wonder why that is. 

I wonder why failure seems to be the only thing I am good at. I wonder why I won't allow myself to do better. I wonder lots. Its like my brain never stops. Thats why I love being high or drunk. Because it helps calm the background noise in my head. Once I get home I don't want the thoughts to take over. So I get drunk or high as soon as I can and then I eat whatever my body craves at that moment. Maybe its the substances that are blocking me from accomplishment. Maybe if I let the thoughts happen then they would lead me to better things and a better life.

What is a better life though you may ask. I wish I fuckin knew, Life always had a next step for me. And then after I got college and my career sorted out I had no fucking clue what was next. And I still don't. I have some ideas, maybe id go back to school, maybe id meet someone special, maybe id finally stick to a routine like I always wanted.

I have been able to stick to a routine before, but not for very long.I don't know why my brain connects having a good solid routine in life with success but it does. and when my thoughts are at their worst, its normally surrounding my inability to stick to a routine. It never sticks for long. I don't know why, maybe the hint of anorexia I was suffering with at the time gave me something to live for.

Its weird how sometimes the things that you are living for are the things that are killing you. Jobs, hobbies, relationships, habits, etc. Being anorexic gave me something to think about, something to put my time into, something to accomplish. Once I saw the numbers on the scale go down and saw the side by side Instagram pictures getting more and more drastic in differences, it was hard to stop. Hard to not feel guilty about every single thing I ate. And for someone like me, guilt turns into extreme self hatred. Even if the 200 calorie serving of pirogies was all I ate that day, I still wanted to vomit at the thought of my fat self ingesting them. 

But I failed at being anorexic too. I did it for awhile, lost a good amount of weight, and then something happened. I don't remember exactly what it was. Probably a break up of some sort or major life change. And thats the pattern with me. I get SOME motivation or SOME success 

Once 1 little tiny thing happens I immediately shut down and go back to square one. heres what square 1 looks like for me: no routine, no goals, no real plan other than when I'm working next, eat like shit, no exercise what so ever, no self care, no hygienic care, lots of drinking or smoking weed to fill the time and calm the racing thoughts. just floating by. I am surviving. And somedays I don't even want to do that.

Ive read a lot online about BPD. And I think I've come to the conclusion that it will be this way forever. well parts of it. some I hope will go away. but the ones I hate the most will stay. forever. my happiness will forever be in cycles. my happiness will forever be influenced by the bullshit my brain is manufacturing. my happiness will forever be dependant on the relationships I have with people (or lack of). my happiness will forever have a cloud of deep depression and self hatred lingering over it. and this isn't any normal depression. this is deep depression. you can feel the pain and unhappiness deep inside of you. as if it is a part of you that you can never get rid of. like an ugly huge hate filled scar but instead of the world seeing it, only you do.  it takes your soul, your will to live, your hopes and dreams, your relationships, your sanity, everything. It will stop at nothing to ruin everything in your life. and you are expected to keep it all under control, to contain yourself and your emotions, to carry on even when every fibre of your being is screaming at you to just give up. it turns you into a completely different person. I used to be someone so completely different.

 I used to be a use perfectionist. and at heart I still am. I have high expectations and rules I believe everyone should follow. I will never live up to the expectations in my head. I never have and I never will. because even if I have the most wonderful day anyone could ever imagine; I follow every rule, every expectation and every plan, it will never be enough. I will not follow it strictly enough, I will do it in the wrong order, I could have done better, etc. I will never be enough for myself. And you'd think I would at least try, but I don't. because the pressure to be what my brain wants of me is so great it may kill me.

[atlantanthoughts-blog]

2 years

I poured 2 years into you, I broke my spirit for you. I relapsed into anorexia and crippling, world shattering depression for you. Just for you to end it by giving me a big old FUCK OFF and hanging up on me. Just for you to leave a voice mail, a permanent reminder of your true feelings etched into the memory of my phone and my brain, telling me I am replaceable, I'm going to be alone, you're going to be much happier, and I'm worthless and meaningless and furthermore a joke to you. The next day as I'm wondering what to do, can you really ever forgive something like that?, you call me up and you NEED me. Your tripping too hard in the publix bathroom, you need me now. You need me to drive to you 30 minutes away and drop everything I'm doing NOW. And I did because I care about you even still, I am a fool I am a joke. You are right, I am worthless. I want an apology for you belittling me, I get excuse on excuse on excuse, I get more heart break. I get a 'I'll be happy with or without you' with a side of 'see ya forever' I am the one who hurts. But weeks from now when I am close to healed you'll come back and you'll ask to tear open every scar again with promises of change and growth. This time I'll know it's a lie. Hopefully this time last be strong enough to laugh in your face and turn the other way. Hopefully you weren't right, right now I am alone and you seem fine and happy. You will replace me, with someone similar maybe even prettier. I will maybe replace you. I will maybe not. I will maybe just be alone. Something about the idea of romantic companionship has been ruined by you