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not-that-blog · 5 months ago

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My housemate and I had a really honest discussion about my experiences with anorexia today and I won’t tag this and so this is the trigger warning of I’m about to ramble about the kind of ED experience where it’s actually severe and advanced and calculated… so it is not a light topic and not one for those who are sensitive to it. Because I will be talking about my mindset at the time, the mindset of my old friends in the forums and the things I had to accept for choosing recovery.

So most of the discussion on the way home from my gp was more about how gym bros with eating disorders are super similar to hardcore competitive anorexics on proana forums.

Which has been like hitting me all evening about how fucked up my eating disorder was because I was admitting to my housemate about it and explaining niche ED things.

Like if you were ever in deep, there is a specific three letter ‘diet’ that you know and you know how difficult it is and that anyone who is doing that has essentially knowingly chosen death or hospitalisation.

I had to explain to my housemate this ‘diet’ and we googled the average caloric intake for adults and toddlers bc of this and learned that at the peak of my ED on average I was getting less than a quarter of a toddlers daily intake.

And his response was ‘holy shit, no yeah that’s active malnutrition and dying’

To which my response was ‘I got pregnant during recovery from that when I was still eating less than recommended for a toddler. It’s why I blame myself for that miscarriage and resent my mother telling me I was ‘bloated and looked sick and pregnant’ when she demanded that I go gluten free…. Because I was sick and pregnant.’

(To which I somehow just realised her response was to force me to go gluten free instead of take me to the doctor or discuss if I was feeling sick… and the rage has flared back up about her medical neglect)

But because of this we also got to talking about the competitive nature and the fact eating disorders make you fucking mean. Like you’re not meeting your basic nutritional needs, you’re fucking delirious all the time, your logic and perception are completely skewed and even if you were like me and the body image issues were yourself specifically and didn’t actually apply to those around you (ngl; I was suicidal and didn’t want to be seen as attractive to anyone whom I could actually respect because I was afraid of being emotionally betrayed by someone I trusted because I was terrified of being seen as a sex object. I didn’t trust the opinion of anyone who found me hot while I was actively anorexic to the point it’s why I was anorexic. It’s a concerning thing especially with why stress and breakups sometimes trigger my disordered eating purely because I don’t want to be seen sexually so I want to not exist). But others who are anorexic or dieting bc of fatphobic mindsets still surround you and that shit fucks with your head and you can’t always spot and fight it when you’re so physically exhausted that you can’t stay awake in class anymore or do basic math.

(Also just realised the time they were looking at bipolar, I was actively struggling with recovering from disordered eating and suddenly my erratic behaviour makes more sense)

And important to where this ramble is going; I only chose recovery because a friend in the community died and her mum begged all of us in the server to seek recovery. She was not the first to go to hospital or die. It’s just the first time that someone cared and wanted us to live despite knowing we were all actively in there choosing death.

It was a very suicidal group chat where we were all discussing in brutal honesty what it looks like to die from anorexia but how much more afraid of recovery we were because we all knew we had gone too far to not be physically fucked up from it.

The reason I knew to keep an eye out for diabetes in my early 20’s and begged doctors to take me seriously when I said that I was showing symptoms? Because no one lives malnourished for that long without doing damage to their pancreas. It was an active discussion in the forums and chat about the fact multiple people had developed type 2 and eventually type 1 diabetes because they had been so malnourished for so long that their pancreas stopped producing insulin.

There were discussions about how to stay glucose stable on minimum calories. I wish I didn’t still have those memorised but I do. And tbh sometimes they save my life now and it definitely did while I was bedbound… but it’s fucked up information to have with how I have it.

I told my housemate what zero calorie days looked like on different anorexia ‘diets’ and how prolific laxative abuse is bc we were talking about how one of the long term effects is that when you don’t eat for that long, your body stops making stomach acid/bile. It doesn’t make enough to digest food. And by that point, you also have really severe muscle wastage so your body actually can’t digest food easily even if you did. And that there’s some niche knowledge that I have that I will say I learned from the spinal injury and FND forums that was probably also on there… but I actually learned it from other anorexics because you can’t recover easily without learning how to eat again slowly not bc you mentally can’t… but because you physically can’t.

The thing with that super advanced three letter diet? Is it triggers gastroparasis eventually because you have probably been drinking coffee or smoothies as your only form of nutrition, once a day, and timing it for your very specific bathroom break. Because you know how long it takes. Because it’s all you have. And you can’t eat solid foods without laxatives anymore.

Everyone thinks the soft food choices and the veganism and the liquid food diets are all calorie and weird ‘making sure they eat in recovery’ choices. It’s not, the actual reason that mashed potato is a common recovery food is because it’s easy to make nutritional and calorie dense while being easily digested. It’s why broccoli is not a team favourite and spinach is the leafy green choice of recovery. The same with why we all have to readjust to low dairy in the form of cream and why it takes forever to reintroduce cheese and pizza. It’s also why most people who go from anorexia to bulimia do it in recovery; it’s not just fear of consuming calories. Learning how to digest food again hurts. Like physically hurts and is incredibly uncomfortable.

I couldn’t eat fish and chips for years because it was so bad I threw up in the shower. I just didn’t have the stomach acid or the energy to digest it.

That’s the other thing; digestion actually takes a lot of energy and your body will just shut it down to bare minimums when you’re that malnourished.

Like I still know the feeling of the weirdest sensations bc of my eating disorder. And sometimes that weird insight is the only reason I don’t completely regret it… but also so many issues I have are directly caused by it and people don’t realise how close to hospitalisation I was.

Like I am pretty sure most of my original FND symptoms were actually just anorexia and that’s why it got better when I recovered from my eating disorder and why I am currently flaring bc I unintentionally go into ED habits when stressed bc it was my core coping mechanism for the most formative phase of my life so far.

My mother and sister actively both diet to the point of disordered eating, my mother less so now but my sister absolutely counts as too low on the calorie intake and so I am fully aware no one close to me was catching my eating disorder.

And I was careful enough to eat my ‘planned intake’ around other people… because I was calculating and ridiculously dangerous to myself especially with a strong support network of other anorexics who were working so hard to hide their disorders and knew what they were doing and we’d share how we did it and how we ‘Burned off the calories in lunch’.

Normal people don’t have a full workout routine they can do while sitting ‘still enough’ and it doesn’t help that I am AuHD so it was essentially just stimming with a pattern and I still do them when I’m working and need to stim ‘quietly’. (It’s entirely just flexing different muscles in your body with small movements. Again, great quiet stimming technique, horrific when you’re using it to ‘burn excess calories’ on-top of full workouts and malnutrition)

And sometimes I forget how advanced I was and how close to death I was and that it probably wouldn’t have been that much longer until I was hospitalised for it.

It would’ve been in the hospital where I got caught tho. No one would notice at home. Or do anything if they did. I saw how they treated my brother when he obviously also developed anorexia…. And they actively made that worse despite me telling them that they were doing it wrong and giving them resources on how to navigate anorexia because while I didn’t care about me, I love my baby brother.

I forget my experience with anorexia is far from the normal bc I did a lot of things that are actually really hard.

I regularly ‘won’ proana competitions that were willpower not weightloss.

It sucks when the only thing you achieved in your life for the longest time was best at disordered eating without dying in the public knowledge.

Bonus points; the argument for why I wasn’t anorexic by others around me was that I still had boobs. I am a trans man; trying to get rid of them was part of the reason why I kept doing it. There were entire forums dedicated to how to keep or lose them and I was very 50/50 bc I liked not being caught but I hated my chest.

But one of those things that only certain people seem to know and it’s those who hardcore diet; if you recover you will become plus size not because of diet or moral failure or anything like the things diet culture suggests… and this is something no one explicitly says until the point where you’re all choosing between death or a painful life in recovery… your body will never forgive you or forget that it was so malnourished it almost died.

And it will never let you forget.

Like it was the thing that was made very very clear to me when I chose recovery; ‘You have spent the last few years obsessed with staying small. You will never be socially thin again. Especially because you’ve been this small, a normal size will feel large on you to others and they won’t understand and neither will you. But the majority of us end up plus size if we recover because our bodies will never ever be the same and they will not forgive what we did.’

And I just accepted it.

Because genuinely; plus size me was always going to be healthier than anorexic me.

And the thing that I have always kept in mind when they tell me how plus size individuals are more likely to die from certain conditions is that most of those conditions are actually caused by yo-yo dieting.

Because I know that because I watched us die, not just myself but literally I was in several competitive af group chats where the group motto was essentially ‘Well at least I’ll be a pretty/concerning corpse’ (because we know that dying like that we don’t actually look pretty, but when you’re that fucked up we felt like the willpower and stubbornness it takes to die like that made us pretty and we all felt pretty… because anorexia is a very severe mental illness and genuinely we don’t talk enough about the fact it’s not vanity but a need for control and eventually a need to control the way we live in order to die. Like not everyone gets to intentionally dying. A lot of people stay in just obsessive with numbers and calories and staying small for a long long time and just continue going way too far because control. But the reason proana is known as red flag 🚩 anorexia point is because that is the warning sign that it’s someone competitive and probably ready to die for the level of control they need to feel. They want to control their life and how they die. They want to die. It’s slow suicide and a need for control. I don’t think people get that enough so I will harp on about it. Because the last thing anorexia is, is vanity. It’s linked to OCD. Most anorexics have OCD. You treat OCD when you treat anorexia).

And the thing with being in several group chats where you indepth honestly discuss what it’s going to be like to die of anorexia and plan your funerals…. Is you learn how and why your body shuts down in what order.

Do you know that the first organs to get fucked up are all digestive? Pancreas, liver, kidney, intestines, stomach. Pretty much in that order depending on personal genetics.

That once there’s no fat to burn and your body will actually keep a layer of it first, it’ll start consuming muscle. And tbh, most anorexics by this point don’t have a lot and you’re exercising non stop anyway…. So your muscle is already weak and damaged because you haven’t been providing proper nutrition and you have not given your body a break despite that…. So your heart is already not in good shape because it’s overworked af and you’re anorexic so you’re constantly stressed and your body has lived off adrenaline and cortisol for years because it couldn’t live off food…. And then your body starts consuming muscle for energy and suddenly you’re even more at risk for heart failure because it’s so weak and broken. And even if you recover you will forever have a heart that is more at risk of heart attack and disease because it is heavily broken. And there’s nothing you can do.

Because when you choose recovery and to try and fix everything you did with malnutrition; you can’t fix the insane damage you put your heart through.

And sometimes when you gain weight after years of starvation; your body just covers everything in excess fat cells to try and keep you safe.

Because historically; famines are fucking deadly and ones that last years and still require you to keep going like that are incredibly severe natural disasters that will come again. So your body changes its entire system to prepare and protect you, so that next time you don’t even come close to dying. So you can think because malnutrition really fucks with your brain and when you’re in a natural disaster or something, that’s crucial.

And it’s going to impact future generations genetics too.

Everyone who had an almond mum and then continued getting shit for their size? Her dieting and her making you diet as a kid added to it. Congratulations on your crippling insecurities and constant pain and health issues… I am right here with you (genuinely, my family triggered my disordered eating at about 10/11… it became conscious about 13-14).

We’re about to see a rise in youth disordered eating again and as someone who teaches teenagers I’m terrified of it. I’m terrified to see the kids coming in with disordered eating over the next few years because I know what that looks like.

And here’s the thing about having spent years in a group named ‘The pretty corpses’; you discuss a lot how ugly and medical that death will be.

How much beeping, how there will be needles and IV fluids and feeding tubes and machines and slow inevitable organ failure and how exasperated nurses get about needing you to eat… etc… we know it’s a very very slow and painful death. Some have a goal weight they plan to just end it at or a specific milestone, others live for the dramatic ending, some of us swear we’ll recover at the last possible minute and it’ll be fine. I actually was in none of those camps, I didn’t think I would ever make it to hospital because no one would notice and I would just die one day at home. I was a teenager and not very logical, but tbh even now I don’t think they ever were going to take me to get help. I think I would have been there when I hit organ failure and they would have to be like ‘she’s dying’.

And recovery looks ugly.

Not in a ‘oh no, I’m gaining weight’ which is more a loss of control and not liking that you can’t control how your body gains weight and when thing, at least for me.

But in a ‘you’re going to piss yourself at some point bc your pelvic floor is a muscle and you don’t have those anymore. You are also going to have to learn to use laxatives responsibly bc you never have but now you need to be mindful and wean yourself off them so your body can learn to digest food again.’ way. And the thing that they tell you in recovery is ‘everyone has a poop story, it is inevitable. Every time you full on relapse tho, you will gain another.’ along with the information of how you have to reintroduce foods slowly because you haven’t eaten them in years and everyone who cut out cheese and dairy has a poop story specifically from that or a ‘I threw up the first time I ate more than two small slices of cheese pizza because it’s been so long I genuinely couldn’t digest it and the pain was excruciating’.

Also the first time you eat meat again. I don’t like eating chicken outside of a few very specific ways because I couldn’t physically digest it after anorexia and I was more prone to food poisoning.

As an adult living independently, I still mix a lot of fibre additives into my meals specifically bc of the damage I caused with anorexia.

But a lot of us can’t eat meats easily and they forever just taste a little wrong after years of eating disorders.

Also if you purged a lot, some foods are forever just that meal you constantly purged.

I have a handful of things I no longer eat because of it.

And all this is currently haunting me because ever since the wicked promo… I see it.

I see Mary-Kate and Ashley. I see Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton. I see the ‘How they did it; weight loss diets of the rich and famous’ on trashy magazines again. And the knowledge that it’s coming again.

I used to obsess over Victoria Secrets models.

If anyone else was on proana websites in the 2010’s, there was an entire thread dedicated to them and I remember the time everyone got obsessed with counting their ribs and comparing their own.

I saw Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo’s interviews and my instant thought while watching all the holding hand compilations was ‘Oh god the wrist measuring trend is going to come back.’

Because between ozempic now being more for weightloss than diabetes in the public eye, that people are going to be looking at hyperglycaemia as a weightloss solution (which makes my diabetic ass scream in panic), that actresses are once again shrinking before our eyes and going for constant surgeries for a very specific kind of face that is just a fucking image of white supremacist bs…. I am here like ‘Oh no, this is exactly how it happens’.

Because if you’re hungry you can’t see and you can’t complain and it’s really easy to feed you propaganda when you’re so focused on yourself and your image and that you can’t afford clothes and food if you decide to rebel against their ED culture…. And everyone is going to fall for it again.

And hungry people are bitchy and judgemental.

Anorexia makes you a fucking bitch not because you are one inherently; but because when you’re so starved you can’t think and suddenly you’re just taking in the worst of everything bc you’ve triggered your survival instincts which need you to be prepared for threats and you’re running on empty…. And you just become a cruel and bitchy person.

And that’s also why almond mums are the fucking worst. Because outside of the body image issues… they’re so fucking hungry and empty they don’t have the energy and mental capacity to parent. I now force my mother to eat regularly when out because otherwise she’s a bitch to me and service workers and I refuse to allow that.

I just see it all happening again and I dread it and hate it.

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purple-hel · 10 months ago

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FML

It's been a really shitty year.

I lost my job in August and have gotten exactly ONE recruiter call since then, and no actual interviews. My uncle was helping me with rent, but he had to retire because his mind is slipping (which was a conversation I had to have with him because apparently his manager, an old friend of his, wasn't allowed to, so got ahold of me for the 'he's gotta retire or hes going to get fired and lose his pension and health insurance' convo.) So my uncle can't help me anymore cos there's a big gap between his last paycheck and his first pension payment, and even if he could help my lease is up end of july and the complex wants to raise my rent by like $400, which is somehow fucking legal.

And I have nowhere I can move, because I have 5 cats (plus another I should really take with me if I leave), only two of which will tolerate other people, the other 3 will only tolerate me (plus the 6th is mostly feral and won't even really tolerate me, but she's been SLOWLY warming up to me and two of mine are her clowder and I don't want to leave her all alone, so I need to be able to isolate her from all but 2 of mine if I leave and take her with me). So I'm going to be homeless I guess? With 5 cats? and no car? Which doesn't sound like something worth fighting to survive when I'm 42 and have absolutely no hope of things getting better.

I had planned to move into my mom's empty house, but that requires like $1000 for a dumpster to reach a marginally livable state (and I mean MARGINALLY) and me having the ability to GET THERE and clean. And I don't have $1000 OR the ability to get there, cos my car died; doubly so in fact, originally it was what I am pretty sure is a brake assembly issue, but when I went to start it yesterday to keep the battery from running down it wouldn't start at all, and not in a dead battery way but in a check engine way.

And then on top of all that, my uncle's neighbor has been seriously overstepping, pushing my uncle to do things like hire a CPA and hire people to clean out the house, which would be fine, except my uncle always loses paperwork, and the neighbor refuses to give contact info for any of the people, so now everything I had stored in my bedroom at my uncle's to keep it safe is probably gone forever-photos. prom dress. a summer camp tee shirt a bunch of friends signed. stuffed animals given to me by various people, including my father. And my uncle lost the paperwork from the CPA, told the CPA to send me a copy of the paperwork, and the CPA, a friend of the neighbor, is refusing, so there's a power of attorney that none of us know what actually covers, isn't that great?!

On the plus side my uncle is good with the idea of a conservatorship, so we just need to get that in place.

plus the 'the world is on fire and death cult capitalism sees no profit in saving it and the rapturists want the world to burn' shit we're all dealing with, and I am hard pressed to remember why I should keep breathing other than my cats.

Oh, yeah, plus fucking health bullshit. I'm now on the prescription anorexia shot (ozempic) which is (un)fortunately actually doing good things for my blood sugar, so I just have to deal with ozempic no appetite on top of ADHD no appetite. Except the past few weeks I've been so stressed the ozempic doesn't seem to be doing anything (or if this is my sugars WITH ozempic fucking gods I don't want to know what they'd be without it.) But not eating enough (a good day I can manage about 1000 calories across the day, which I try to weight towards protein) means not sleeping enough, which is NOT helping the stress levels, which means more cortisol ruining everything….

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mycptsdrecovery · 2 years ago

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To the person who sent this ask:

https://at.tumblr.com/mycptsdrecovery/hi-im-sorry-to-ask-this-really-because-it-feels/fepccd6vfm9e

So first off I want to apologize because this message is probably gonna fuck your shit up a little bit. But for me at least, clarity brought peace. I hope this helps you put the pieces together and can bring you some comfort to know that you are not alone, what happened to you was very real and incredibly traumatic, and that you are incredibly strong for living through that. You’re obviously very smart and you’re asking the right questions- keep it up.

I read your post and I know exactly what happened to you. You had a VCUG. I had it done too, multiple times when I was 3. It took me literally 20 fucking years to figure out what that was and what happened to me. When I read the Wikipedia page, it was like I got hit in the head with a brick so brace yourself before you look it up. The procedure has literally every characteristic of a sexual assault, and I have lifelong sexual trauma from it. It’s used as a tool in research for studying memory related to CSA, because ofc you can’t abuse children to get data- but the VCUG is “medically necessary.” I think it’s almost worse in a way because it’s more like a gang rape WHILE YOUR PARENT IS WATCHING, and you’re not even seen has an object of attraction- it’s dehumanizing, and the denial of autonomy over your own body has serious, long term effects. It set me up for a lifetime of other sexual trauma- by the time I was 6 I was already showing hypersexual behavior. I never learned how to set any boundaries. Period. If you learn as a child that you don’t even have privacy *in the bathroom by yourself*, layered with the confusion and embarrassment of the experience (I was being potty trained, and then all of a sudden I’m in a radiology room and my mom is telling me I have to pee on this table in front of all these people??) seriously fucked me up, at least.

I spent literally my entire life not knowing why I was so fucked up, not knowing why I was so deeply traumatized when nothing (that I knew of) happened to me. It’s agony, and I blamed myself and lost myself in addiction and anorexia. Funnily enough, Ive always gravitated towards people who had serious childhood trauma. I’d hear their stories, and understand the feelings, but I never had a “story” of my own. It made me feel like an imposter, because it wasn’t like I got raped by a family member or something more “textbook”. Nobody talks about VCUG trauma even though thousands of kids go through this every year. It’s a faceless trauma, there’s nobody to blame (which makes it even more difficult to cope with imo)

There’s like one (1) support group on Reddit with 70 members, which is the largest to my knowledge. I was thinking of maybe starting a blog because there’s a lot of older people on reddit (like 5-10 yrs older than me at least) and I think that growing up Online with that trauma and 24/7 access to violent adult content is a totally different experience. But all of the emotions they talk about are the same, I’ve always kinda felt like nobody could understand what it’s like to be in my head, but reading that subreddit made me realize that I’m not The Most Fucked Up Person Who Has Ever Lived. And I learned how the trauma has formed every facet of my personality. Like I’m an anxious control freak who feels no sense of ownership over my body- surely that has nothing to do with this foundational traumatic memory of being denied control over my most basic bodily functions, right? Much to think about lol

You’re not crazy, and what you went through is unfortunately very real. I’m assuming that you’re still a teenager or a very young adult so you may not have gotten a yeast infection since you were a kid, but I think that the white stuff/medicine you were describing was monistat for a yeast infection. It’s a suppository, so there’s a like plastic plunger you put this white egg on, and then you put it in your vagina and push it up to your cervix, and the medicine leaks out over the course of a couple days. So it doesn’t surprise me at all that you would remember that, someone put a foreign object inside of you that was itchy and gross.

And for the record, your parents are *Very* Bad At Boundaries!!! If they can’t be the adults and set healthy boundaries, you have to. Its perfectly okay to say “I don’t want to talk about that” or “you’re making me uncomfortable, please stop touching me”. You didn’t have a voice when you were a kid, but you have one now. Trust me, I know it’s fucking scary and feels impossible- but do it once, and you’ll be hooked on the feeling forever.

I figured everything out last year (I’m about to turn 24), and I’ve been in therapy which has been super helpful. For me at least, EMDR has really been great for reprocessing those memories, and so has hypnotherapy exercises for being able to get into my subconscious. If you’re gonna look for one, you need a trauma specialist. Don’t fuck around with like a school counselor who mainly does “I’m depressed sometimes” therapy. If you’re anything like me, you need Serious Help.

I love you internet stranger- everything’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone, and it is possible to heal ❤️ I hope this brings you some peace

#thank you anon

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9tzuyu · 4 years ago

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dissolve (rewrite)

natasha x reader

note: this was just a huge vent fic idk. these type of fics seem to be the only thing im okay at writing. mistakes are mine as always. but i did proofread, yay!

if you want to read the original (as awful as it is) you can read it here!

wanrings: this heavily revolves around eating disorders.

i’m not tagging anyone because the content isn’t really the lightest to read.

words are used everyday, everywhere – whether to describe something or someone. there’s thousands upon thousands of them.

so you were having a hard time figuring out why you were struggling so much to justify your feelings through the basis of words. it was unnerving, draining and very annoying. your emotions should be simple, right? you were either sad or happy, angry or scared. but there was something more, something unexplainable. saying you felt alone only scratched the surface of the wave of emotion that took over. it was excruciatingly painful, far worse than any physical pain you ever had to endure. and for some reason it seemed to come crashing down at night while natasha slept peacefully. you weren't exactly sure how to express your emotions to the extent you felt them. how else was anyone supposed to understand your pain? they couldn't, not unless they could somehow shift into your body and feel your emotions themselves. but that was merely impossible as such powers do not exist. so you were inevitably stuck with words foreign to your lips. over the years you were deemed unsafe, a hazard, "an accident waiting to happen" you recall one doctor say. everyone’s eyes were on you at all times, monitoring every little movement you made. it was suffocating and at times doing more damage than good.

as an adult now you learned how freeing it could be without the fear of gaining weight or eating a bowl full of rainbow marshmallow cereal. your worth was not defined by your weight.

(at least that's what you believed prior to any relapses.) everything was going well in your life. you were a college graduate working as a psychiatric nurse and you had found love, something your teenage self could only dream of. natasha was by your side through everything. and really, the only downfall in the relationship was that she had to travel a lot for her job. but you were secure enough in your relationship not to worry or decide to call things off. in the end natasha always made up for it when she came back, so you couldn't complain too much. things were going well for you, really, they were. until they weren't. (and you didn't know why.) it happened out of nowhere. work was a little more stressful than usual, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. natasha had been away for three months, only stopping by a few times to check in on you. but again, your wife being away for so long wasn't anything new or worrisome. the two of you had followed the routine of her leaving and coming back more than a thousand times; yet somewhere along the way you lost yourself. food became less of a priority, your hunger decreased drastically, and within the first month you'd lost thirteen pounds. it truly was an accident, slipping into a full blown relapse was never part of the plan. but thirteen pounds lighter you wanted more, to feel small again. you didn't have an answer as to why you became so attached to your eating disorder, but it didn't seem like it would be letting go any time soon. the rate at which you were going natasha would most definitely be able to see a difference; not only on your weight, but in the person you once were. she'd ask what happened and why it happened, poking and prodding for an answer, but you didn't have one. so here you stood in the kitchen of your shared home, a cup of sliced fruit in one hand and your cell phone in the other. you poured the fruit into the bottom of a blender along with a spoonful of yogurt and half a cup of soy milk. another half cup of ice followed suit. while the fruit blended, you shamelessly scrolled through your instagram. there was nothing interesting going on in other people's lives, you didn't even know why you had social media in the first place. it was dumb, and quite frankly you didn't give a shit whether or not sharon went to the beach. the sound of your blender coming to a halt brought your attention back to the real world. you poured your smoothie into your water bottle. the green liquid would be your breakfast and lunch for the day - dinner was still up for debate. a soft sigh left your lips. work was beginning to feel more like a chore and less of something you enjoyed. you were quickly growing tired of it. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and rushed out of the door.

you thought about the irony of working as a psychiatric nurse with an undealt eating disorder telling teenagers how to deal with their own issues. you felt hypocritical to say the least, especially given that all the nasty side effects were starting to make themselves known.

your hair was beginning to thin, small clumps of it already starting to fall out when you tugged a little too hard. bruises could be seen scattered left and right on your body, and you were cold. god you were cold. your fingernails were tinted blue, warmth seemingly too far out of reach. you looked ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by your coworkers.

a few hours into your shift you found yourself sitting behind the nurses station filling out paperwork. lunch had passed and when your coworker, steve, asked if you were going to eat something you lied straight through your teeth, telling him you'd grab something when the patients were eating dinner.

but steve rogers could read you like an open book. he knew you were lying because he already knew what was going on. the signs of an eating disorder were quite obvious when you were a licensed therapist. and despite your futile attempts at hiding it, everyone could tell something wasn't right.

steve played it by ear for weeks until he contacted natasha, but by then you'd already lost a considerable amount of weight. as soon as she heard the news, natasha booked the next flight home. unfortunately for her though, there was only one flight and she would have to wait two and a half weeks before being able to leave.

you didn't know it, but those were the longest two and a half weeks natasha ever had to wait.

– patients were having group therapy, so you could tune them out - not that you should, but it was hard to focus when the only two things you could think about were food and your weight.

the need to lose weight sounded so stereotypical for someone with an eating disorder, but honestly it wasn't about that. it was never about wanting to be thin. you genuinely didn't know why this was happening. the only thing you noticed was how rewarding it felt seeing the number go down, as if for you were good for becoming less. it was addictive. and it didn't help that you based your entire worth on how much you could lose.

the next time you stood up from behind the nurses station steve met you in the the cafeteria. while the patients ate you took occasional sips from your smoothie. the bottle was still full of its contents from the morning. you had completely forgotten to drink it during the day, but you didn't seem to mind it that much.

the surprise touch of steve's hand on your shoulder startled you.

i am gross, you thought. do not do that.

steve caught onto the slight flinch your body produced as a reflex, but he didn't say anything about it.

"you can leave early, boss said so."

he laughed as he saw confusion plaster your face.

"what? no!"

"go home, seriously. we have this handled. you know tony doesn't like being told no."

you bit your lip, puzzled by the sudden request. most people wouldn't mind being sent home early, but all it did for you was give you a level of anxiety reserved for food.

what you didn't know was that natasha was home waiting for your arrival. she came back just short of an hour after you left for work.

while you were gone natasha made a few thorough rounds in the house looking for key signs of your eating disorder. there was bound to be evidence given that you didn't know she was home.

unsurprisingly, natasha found a glass scale beside the counter of the bathroom floor along with empty bottles of laxatives in the trashcan. the food in the fridge had been expired a few days past their date, giving her the indication that you weren't eating as much as you should be. her concern grew even more when she found your food journal on your nightstand. flipping the pages, natasha could see that throughout the moths she'd been gone your calorie intake had decreased significantly.

guilt began to gnaw at the back of her throat.

during the few days natasha stopped by, she hadn't noticed anything wrong with you. but then again she knew most people with eating disorders were very good at hiding them up until the point they were discovered. three days wasn't near enough time for her to catch onto your tricks, not when her mind was still focused on her job.

natasha always listened intently whenever you would talk about your eating disorder, the first time being six months into the relationship on a date you felt like you had ruined.

but talking about it was much different than experiencing it with you, natasha had never done that before up until now. she read nearly every article there was about anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and ednos. sometimes when you were asleep she would watch documentaries on the disorder, always making sure to keep her volume at a low level.

the videos that hurt her the most were the ones teenagers struggling with the simple task of eating food.

(although natasha knew it wasn't that simple.)

it hurt because she knew that was you at some point in time.

upon your arrival, natasha cooked dinner. she wanted to hold onto the one sliver of hope that steve was wrong - that he was just overreacting - but she knew in her heart he was right about his assumption. however, dinner would only confirm what natasha so desperately wanted to deny.

when you walked through the door you were greeted with the overwhelming scent of food. you cringed at the thought of having to eat, but as soon as you looked up to see the redhead who'd been gone for so long your frown was washed away. a wide smile overtook your face and you rushed to jump into natasha's arms.

"i missed you so much," you whispered. "i thought you'd be gone for another few weeks?"

natasha's arms found their way around your waist as your legs wrapped around hers. "what? i can't come home early to surprise my wife?" you giggled in the crook of her neck. she smiled feeling the vibrations against her skin, happy to know that you'd missed her just as much as she missed you.

she sat you down, back facing you, she tended to the food. "you've lost weight," she commented, not missing the sharp inhale of your breath.

"how was work, nat?"

she nodded to herself. yeah, she didn't expect you to be so open on the first try.

"it was fine. dinner's ready, i made your favorite!" natasha threw a smile in your direction as she carried the plates over to the table. she had hoped to see your face light up the way it used to, but seeing the panicked look in your eyes further confirmed your relapse.

if nothing else, natasha wanted you to have a meal before she brought up the conversation.

"great... i love it, thank you nat!" your attempt at being enthusiastic failed miserably and you knew by the look she gave you, she already knew what was going on.

but throughout the meal, and despite the shakiness of your hand as it gripped the metal fork, natasha didn't say anything.

you weren't really sure which was worse; being confronted or knowing the both of you knew what the other was thinking and still not addressing it.

natasha's meal was good, you couldn't lie about that, but each bite you chewed caused the tightening in your chest to constrict further.

now you couldn't be good. or worthy. or deserving.

nat took away your plate when you were halfway through. she knew your limits, and she didn't want to push you too much out of your comfort zone.

"go change, i'll wash our dishes. meet you on the couch?"

you did as you were told, taking as long as you could to do so. except this time was different. you didn't glance in the mirror like you usually did, you chose to fully take in your figure.

what you saw was not what you expected to see. for the first time in months you saw a version of yourself that wasn't twisted and turned to be something you didn't know was real or not.

your skin was dry, hair thinned out beyond your belief, eyes sunken and dark underneath. the revelation gave you an odd feeling – was once again something unexplainable, unjustifiable by words.

good.

that was how you were supposed to feel, right? after all of this time, after the many pounds of protection and warmth lost, you were supposed to feel good.

but you didn't. and you never would.

there was something so surreal about the realization of your own destruction. you were aware now, which meant you had to either take responsibility or choose to lose everything you worked so hard for.

"y/n?"

your wife's voice snapped you out of your gaze and you scrambled to pile your dirty clothes and rush out of the bedroom.

as you made your way into the living room you could feel the intensity of natasha's gaze. any other time you would not mind her green eyes looking at you, but this time around you felt like you were in trouble.

she patted the empty spot next to her, to which you reluctantly joined. but even after everything you still tried to play it cool.

"what's up? is everything okay?"

she gave a low chuckle, "you tell me."

"what do you mean?"

"oh i think you know what i mean."

natasha’s reply was met with the loudest silence you ever had to sit through.

she bit her lip, "you know i got a call from steve a few weeks ago. he's concerned about you, and from what he's told me so am i."

you were quick to respond, automatically knowing what steve’s phone call was about. "i'm fine. so what if i've lost a couple of pounds? that doesn't automatically mean that im relapsing, natasha."

your quick snap reminded natasha that this kind of confrontation was like walking on eggshells.

she tilted her head, licking her lips. "i'm here with you, always." nat put a hand to the side of your face, gently rubbing her thumb at the top of your cheekbone. "i'm here."

it seemed pointless now to try and say anything because your secret was already out.

your mind began racing back and forth.

you wanted to keep what you knew best and natasha understood that. even by reading your body language she knew what you were debating.

"you know, to keep it you have to give it away." your eyes darted to meet hers. "mhm. you can still have that piece of you. mourn it, grieve it, do whatever you need to do to move onto a stage where it doesn't hurt you. and from there you can help other people, share your experience, let yourself heal by helping others."

she paused, “we all have choices. some of those choices are taken from you while others leave you with only one option.”

although what she said seemed to resonate with you, there was one thing still holding you back.

"i just want to be good."

natasha hummed. you had explained it to her in the past, though your words were jumbled together as you tried to describe it.

"you can be good in other ways. you're allowed to live a life outside of the barriers your eating disorder puts in the way."

you swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. "i don't even know how it got to this point. in january i enjoyed ihop and dennys. in february i could have oatmeal and bananas, sometimes half of a sandwhich if i was feeling brave. now it’s march and i only eat one or two things a day. the idea of having a full meal makes me want to cry. and i just- i don't know how to stop."

natasha wouldn't show it, but your words cut through her heart like a knife. her mind wandered briefly to all the teenagers in the documentaries she'd watched, hoping you weren't too far gone into your eating disorder to ever come back. those cases scared her the most.

"you've got my complete support. you've tackled this before, maybe this time you can beat it? i know its easier to abuse your body instead of growing comfortable in it, but i think you’ve got this. i know you do."

"what about your work?" your question caused natasha to frown. "you think i wouldn't set my job aside for you?" you shrugged, it's not like you felt like you were worth being taken care of anyway.

natasha grew hesitant to tell you her news, but did it anyway because she’d rather you hate her than see you dead. "i've already made some appointments for you. the first one is tomorrow morning."

"i figured you would natasha. it's okay."

you spaced yourself out the rest of the day. each time you made the executive decision to recover, whether that be a genuine recovery or not, the process never failed to remind you that even trying to recover from an eating disorder felt like mourning the loss of a friend who was never good for you in the first place.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine

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hatsukeii · 5 years ago

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can i request a tsukishima scenario? When he is feeling sad so his fem! S/o pampers him with kisses in his face and hands, and maybe cuddles 🥺🥺

*cough angst with fluff ending *cough

I have to make it up to you guys for the last Tsukki angst right?

Before slamming another multitude of depressing scenarios but don’t worry about that for now.

lol I genuinely love this prompt so much though, tysm anon!

Always, I’ll care//Tsukishima x Reader

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions of divorce, mentions of anorexia, ✨cyberbullying✨

Summary: Tsukishima’s been out of it for week but you can’t seem to pinpoint why, until he finally reaches out.

Yeah, you were absolutely certain that something was up with Kei at this point. There was, without a doubt, something that had been bothering him terribly. Whatever this thing was, it was draining him of his usual spirit. The usual glint of mischief that sparkled in his eyes has been gone for weeks, now replaced by a dull golden. He hasn’t bantered with any of his teammates throughout the last few practices, he hasn’t made an extra effort to make you feel short, nor has he reached out to anyone at all. His sharp tongue was gone, along with his usual tendencies to taunt other students. You haven’t been able to reach him in what felt like forever. He hasn’t replied to any of your texts, hasn’t walked you home at all, nor has he invited you over for your study dates. This felt weird. This didn’t feel right at all. This wasn’t the Kei you were used to, but at the same time you had no idea what you could do to make him feel better. He was too closed off for his own good, keeping everything to himself and letting his worries eat him up from the inside.

You heaved a heavy sigh, shoving your books into your locker. He had ignored your text again. This was the seventh one in a row that he had left on seen. Everyone who knew him was worried, especially you and Yamaguchi. He refused to tell even Yamaguchi what was up with him these days.You two had all the reasons in the world to be extra wary of his mental state. “(Y/N), you don’t think he’s okay either, do you?” The freckled boy mumbled next to you, grabbing his notes from the locker next to yours. “No, he’s definitely not okay. Constantly having his headphones on is never a good sign. The last time he was like that was when his parents got divorced.” You slammed your locker door shut as hard as you can, earning quite a few glares from other students that were startled by the noise. “Jesus, I haven’t been able to reach him for weeks. What the hell happened?” You pressed your forehead to the locker door, squeezing your eyes shut. “He’s been out of it at practice too. Tsukki almost never misses his blocks against anyone, but he’s been doing terribly in practice. Coach Ukai had to put him on the bench last week. What’s up with him?” Yamaguchi recalled, shaking his head a bit. “Hell, as if I’d know. I’ve been trying to check up on him for weeks, but he’s left all of my texts on read.” You removed your head from the metal door, before heading to class, where you had to deal with a dead silent, gloomy, angsty Tsukishima for about an hour, before school ended.

You were curled up on your bed, a million thoughts rampaging through your mind, every single one of them being about Kei. It’s been half an hour since school ended. You walked home with Yamaguchi. Tsukishima was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had abandoned you two and left on his own. No, scratch that, he probably did leave alone. Was he doing okay? What happened to him? Did he fail a test or something? Oh no, did his parents get back together again? Even worse, did he get invited to his dad’s wedding with his new wife? Or maybe he was just fed up with you? Wait, what did you do? Did you piss him off? Oh god, it must’ve been the time where you forgot to bring him that strawberry shortcake you promised to make him. Or was it that time you were late for your date and he almost didn’t make it in time for the premiere of that new Jurassic Park movie? Your train of thoughts was rudely interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You lazily slapped a hand across your nightstand, grabbing your phone from the charger and pulling it towards you. Your eyes widened at the contact that was shown on the screen. You sat up at an inhumanly speed, accepting the call as you brought your phone to your ear. “Kei?” “(Y/N), can you- can you come over? Please- please come over.” He was audibly sobbing, tiny sniffs making their way into his sentences. “Oh-oh god, yeah, of course, I’ll be there in five, stay put, don’t worry.” You changed into a random pair of sweats, and took off to Tsukishima’s house, grabbing a bunch of candy and some shortcake on the way, just to make him feel a bit better.

You slowly creaked open the door to his room, taking a peek. The blond haired boy was sitting in front of his laptop, a hand over his mouth as tears slowly dropped onto the keys. His eyes were bloodshot, presumably from all the crying. His phone was in his other hand, the knuckles of his fingers white from gripping the piece of technology so tight. Your heart clenched at the sight. It was as if an entire army fired arrows at your heart simultaneously, and all the arrows managed to pierce through that pulsing lump of muscle. The boy, that you cared for so dearly, was breaking down, and no one knew except for you. “Kei....” You opened the door a bit more, lightly treading on the wooden floor of his room as you approached the taller male. “Am I worthless?” The blond whimpered out, his eyes never leaving the screen. Your gaze landed onto the computer screen. You gave out an audible growl after reading what was shown on the monitor.

From: Unknown

To: Tsukishima Kei

Dear Tsukishima,

I hope you know that you’re the reason your parents got divorced, you little shit. I wish for no one to ever love you. Everyone that dates you should only date you out of pity. You’re worthless. No one truly cares about you. You could kill yourself and no one would notice, you anorexic blond bitch. Stay your ass scrawny while everyone buffs up xx

Sincerely, Your dad- oh wait you wish, he probably can’t even remember who you are

Your face darkened at the disgusting email that was sent to your boyfriend. How dare someone say such hurtful things to him. Tsukishima sighed, his head hanging low. “You can’t even answer it. I already know I’m worthless, I don’t need you to rub it in either. I thought you could help.” Your head snapped towards the blond, misbelief and rage shining through the look you gave him. “Kei, how long have you been receiving emails like this? Why didn’t you tell me-” “Just answer me first.” You were taken aback by his tone. It was hurt, definitely, but almost in a hopeless way. You brought your hand up to cup his tear stained cheek, drying it with your thumb as your other hand went up to ruffle his hair. “How could you ever be worthless? Even if everyone else thought you were worthless, I’d still think you’re the most precious thing in the world, and you better not let anyone tell you otherwise.” Tsukishima let out a strained sob, nuzzling his face into your warm hand, before taking a deep breath. “This person, whoever it is, they’ve been sending me these emails for a few weeks. At first, they weren’t that bad, but then it started to get personal. They attacked my family situation, my relationship, and my body.” Your nose scrunched up in disgust. “What kind of sick freak attacks someone’s family situation?” The blond shakily sighed. “Apparently this person.” You shook your head, shoving your face into your hand. “We all know they got divorced because your mom caught him cheating. It’s clearly not your fault. You dad was in the wrong and you know it.” He sulked a bit, before continuing. “Well they’ve also been calling me anorexic for weeks.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at this new information. Never in a million years did you think Kei would think so heavily of his own body image. He always struck you as a carefree, unbothered person. Who would’ve known he was so insecure underneath it all? “Kei, why didn’t you tell me about all this?” “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought I could deal with this on my own, but then they started bringing up by dad and me looking anorexic. Apparently I’m too skinny for anyone to appreciate. No one wants an anorexic person. I’m not even anorexic but I’m getting offended by this. I can’t help being lanky you know.” You heaved a dry chuckle. “Seriously? Body image issues? Tsukishima god damn Kei look at yourself and tell me you have a terrible body. Do it.” He was visibly shocked, looking down at himself. “Exactly. You can’t.” Your hand went down to grab his, pulling him on his feet. You pulled his sleeve up, giving his shoulder a tiny peck. “Look at you. You’re built like a whole ass Greek God. You’re like lowkey ripped, how in hell’s name did you manage to believe in that asshole’s emails?” Next, you led his hand to your face, giving each finger a kiss. “Somehow your fingers are still intact for me to hold, even after winning so many sets with your insane blocks.” You let go of his hand, slowly trailing your fingers along his face. “Your eyes are deadass the most perfect thing. I don’t think I can enjoy the sun anymore, your eyes are enough for me to get mesmerised in.” You pulled his face down, giving both his eyelids a tender peck. You squeezed his cheeks, before squishing them between your palms. “You may be lanky and muscular, but your cheeks are still as squishy as ever. I love squishing them so much, they’re like a baby’s cheeks.” With that, you gave both his cheeks a peck, before finally moving to his forehead, giving it a gentle kiss. “Right here, is where the magic is put to work. Everything you’ve been through, learned, felt, all stored right here. Your mind is quite the battlefield, constantly giving you conflicting thoughts about yourself. You’re still dealing with everything that’s been thrown on you. From your parent’s divorce, to your brother’s lie, to the shitty emails. But that mind of yours, also managed to find a way to block THE Ushijima Wakatoshi. It’s aced so many exams for you, it’s helped you get to me, and it’s helped you make up those snarky one liners that you love to use so much. I know what I say might not make any significant difference, but I just want to let you know how I feel. I think you’re a complete badass, a hotshot middle blocker, and one of the hottest people I’ve landed my eyes on. So many people care about you, so please never render yourself worthless. Please.” At this point, Tsukishima had stopped crying, now looking at you with wide eyes. “How could your words ever be insignificant to me?” His arms were instantly wrapped around you, pushing you into his chest. It was dead silent in the room. You could hear his heartbeat in your ear. “Thank you... so, so much.” His voice cracked a bit as he whispered. You moved your head up, giving him a soft, but passionate kiss, keeping your forehead in contact with his. “You don’t have to thank me, I was only stating the truth. Plus, you better report that asshole to the school, they’re gonna get what they deserve when the teachers find out who it is.” He pulled away, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. “Why do you care so much anyways? You sent me like seven texts in a row at school. You should be pissed at me or something. I did leave you on read for weeks after all.” You laughed heartily, before drawing circles on his hand with your thumb.

“Always, I’ll care, dumbass.”

Is this fluffy enough for you guys? Probably not considering it’s still like part angst lmao but idc have fun reading it the angst will be back in a bit my dudes and I’m about to make Tsukishima suffer again I’m sorry I love him too but like I crave angst xx

Tags:

@izzyphantomgamer @sunshines-and-tatertots @tiger1719 @artsamber @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @for-ests @fluffy-bokuto @bokutokoutarou @just-another-bored-writer @macaronnv @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover

If you wanna be tagged just comment or pm bc I don’t know that many people on tumblr yet:)

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu requests #hq #hq x reader #hq scenario #hq headcanons #hq tsukki #hq request #tsukki #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima scenario #yamaguchi tadashi #angst with a happy ending #I'm sorry lol Tsukishima deserves so much better on my account but like angst is my specialty

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anothergirlrecovering · 4 years ago

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Yesterday I sent this long ass text to my chiro:

Helllllo! This is just a sappy random way for me to say thank you for all that you do. Today I met with Peggy, my dietitian. I freaking love Peggy. She's been with me since before treatment, largely why I ended up actually going to treatment. Nonetheless, today I was telling her that I was so frustrated because the past several days I've had no appetite at all and nothing sounds good and it's been so hard to make myself eat in the mornings and afternoons especially and she started laughing. And I was like wait why are you laughing? And she was like, for as long as I've known you, you've been pissed when you feel hunger, and freaking out over it and avoiding eating so that you can turn off the hunger cues with restriction, and now you're sitting here saying that you're mad that the hunger isn't there, make up your mind! She was totally kidding but she pointed out how great/exciting/not sure what word fits best there, it is that I want to be able to be hungry so that I can eat consistently. I don't know if I've emphasized just how big of a deal it is that I'm not freaking out when I feel hungry anymore. I've literally felt anxious about my hunger for as long as I can remember. As a kid I was stealing food from neighbors homes and hoarding food in my bedroom and begging kids at lunch for their scraps because I was always so hungry and food was always so unavailable. I was eating inedible objects and dog food and chewing already been chewed gum that I saved for years to try to stop feeling so hungry and anxious about the fact that I was hungry and couldn't get my needs met. My eleventh grade science teacher called me tape worm because I was always so freaking hungry and anxious about it. In college my hall pranked me by stealing a few of my granola bars and I went apeshit over it. Until now, I've always been so anxiously having to try to control and avoid my hunger by restricting. I've wrote a million journal entries and therapy homework assignments about my hunger, letters to my hunger, letters to my body, literally anything I could to try to fix my bodies physical response to the sensation of hunger. I remember in treatment writing in all capital letters one page in my journal that just said "Why do I keep perpetuating the same abuse my parents did to me?". Because after I moved out, they weren't around to keep me hungry, but I developed anorexia and took on the same shit to myself. It didn't matter that I logically knew as an adult, I always have access to food. Even something as simple as plating my food at dinner, I'd get anxious and worry that what if there's not enough food on my plate and I'm going to feel hungry again. And I'd have to explicitly tell myself, like ok if that happens you can literally get up and get more food. When I found you, I had been emailing a bunch of random ass therapists all over Tennessee trying to find anyone that might be able to do do somatic work and help me stop freaking out when I felt hungry. Because not that that was the only thing driving anorexia for me, but it made it a hell of a lot harder to stay in recovery when I was constantly feeling anxious or panicking any time I felt hungry. So not that I'm cured lol, but I really am so grateful that something that has been a battle my whole life, and always made me feel like there was something so seriously wrong with me, isn't a piece of the work anymore. So seriously, I don't think words do it justice, but thank you.

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endgamesdakidd · 4 years ago

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When I first became a metalhead...

When I first started being a metalhead I think I was in middle School haha I listened to all the bands like Bring me The Horizon and suicide Silence in Memphis May fire and The Devil wears Prada. So.... It reminds me of always wearing bad t-shirts and skinny jeans from the girl section of Ross. Hahaha. But I look good in skinny jeans hahaha no seriously I had to use black ribbed ones and they were my favorite I used to wear them like everyday and watch them like once.. hahaha. but yeah those bands are not go to classics because I listen to them and middle School or maybe I was a freshman in high school!?!? But yeah either way it was a really long time ago. So I was thinking about of herbs and altars on YouTube and she was talking about how she used to do anorexia meetups and I thought it was so funny and like not to gag or anything but I thought that it was hilarious that she was talking about something that happened to her like that a long time ago so.... did you talk about it it happened in middle school when she was in the right place and I was like damn when I was in middle School I was like Regina George from mean girls with Myra by my side and everisto before he killed himself. And before them I had Haley who was like super punk and goth and shit. And we knew of xander who was like extremely goth. But that was in middle School I wasn't goth until sophomore year and my first meeting year we had heard of them but he like to stay off the map which was funny and he liked to not be known by a lot of people but he was kind of like a mansion and I was too but we never really clicked up until my sophomore year and then we sat together and we were like mean girls I took that with her I went hahaha.🤣 But they wouldn't metal heads they looking to like soft rock and I listen to metalcore and grindcore and shit. And Mayra listened to escape the Fate when they first came out. But I only like the guillotine so... These days I still listen to metal and I still listen to those bands just do my favorite bands but my all the time favorite band is The Devil wears Prada and I haven't changed since middle school so when I used to listen to them. And it still hasn't changed hahaha 🤣🤣🤣🤣 So I started being a metalhead in middle School and I remember wearing a lot of hot topic and listening to The suicide Silence and Bring me The Horizon when they first came out and loving to wear their shirts but not really liking hot topic because they weren't goth enough. There was like some hardcore poser demographic with who they were for so I also remember in middle School wishing that I had long hair I wish I had long hair for a long time and now my hair is long so I always hide my face like the emo just super goth. I wish I was going to be a emo black kid but I turns out I was emo goth kid which is funny and ironic. Also Kesha has a new podcast I heard about it on KISS FM and I thought that shit was funny I was like why does that bitch get a podcast but then again why did I care so hard that a podcast was coming out at the same time which is lame so I just forgot about it but I hear the commercial like all the time... And I was going to look it up to see what it was about but I never did I think that's interesting because a really long time ago podcasting really wasn't a thing and now it's kind of really popular for like people to do fake radio stuff and I think that that's cool they even have some metal ones that I think are cool like hell cast for one example they are a metal podcast and another one is DFW metal music and he's also a metal podcast and the scope is another one that is the metal podcast and I thought that it was cool because you know like when we were younger we always wish we could record something like anything andhappened to all of us so we could relate to it. Hahaha.

#mutuals

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iwannaflyawaynow · 5 years ago

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Reasons Why You SHOULDN’T Eat

-you’ll be able to walk up a flight of stairs without breaking a sweat

-stretch marks will fade a bit

-amazing side profile

-THE FUCKING CONFIDENCE

-not being ashamed of exposing your body in the slightest

-You’ll finally new able to wear a bikini

-Your friends might actually take you seriously when it comes to your weight lol

-people will actually like you LMFAO

-awesome instagram pics

-you’ll never have to hear the word chubby ever again

-you won’t get hot easily

-Bathing will become way easier

-you cover less space bro like holy shit

-You can actually SMILE while looking at yourself in the mirror

-R E V E N G E B O D Y

-a plethora of new applicable clothing choices

-so you can spite everyone that’s commented on your weight

- YOU WILL BE SEXUALLY APPEALING

-THE SCALE NUMBERS

-new wardrobe and underwear

-people will be generally nicer to you

-you can finally eat what you want at your UGW

-Because you don’t want to be fat forever while your friends are always the prefered ones

-So people can actually be concerned that you’re not mentally OKAY instead of brushing it off

-So health specialists won’t say “lose some weight” whenever you have a problem

-So you can be HOT instead of GROSS at the gym

-So YOULL finally becomes thinspo

-so your face won’t be disproportionate to the rest of your body

-JAWLINE

-RIBS

-HAND BONES

-pronounced back dimples

-S P I N E

-So your facial features will be fuller and feminine

-L e s s H a i r

-Dizzy/Starve euphoria

-Happiness

These are just for me, I’m not encouraging anyone to not eat :)

#thinspo #ed #bulimia #anorexia #meanspo #sweetspo #notprojustusingtags

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drop-killa · 5 years ago

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Being Honest

**trigger warning: diet culture, purging, and self-loathing** This isn’t a post where I’m self-loathing about my diet culture; it’s a piece of writing about being completely honest and raw about my personal experiences.

So this whole entire blog started because I made an Instagram account, a private one apart from my regular public one, as a form of accountability on my fitness journey. My goals of this fitness journey are to return back to the size I was before I got foot surgery 6 months ago and fit back into my old jeans. THAT BEING SAID I only want to lose 20-30lbs... THAT BEING SAID I am 5′5″ and my goal weight is around 180-190lbs. That’s not most peoples goal weight but I am just a whole lotta woman. I quickly gained weight after both serious injuries I’ve had in my life and I am having a lot of trouble losing it this second time around. Moving on: life is not all about losing weigh but I am uncomfortable. My goal weight is not 120lbs ok? It’s just to return to a normal comfortable size where my clothes fit.

I have been posting “everyday” on my countdown to Bonnaroo in June of 2020. I started typing out this super long caption and I decided it deserved a better home. This blog post doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but me.

Ok so I deleted IG off my phone and honestly I have missed: pictures of cats, rave memes, and posting on my private account.

I've been home alone for almost 2 weeks and I have been absolutely destroying my diet. By diet I just mean "general intake of nutritious food"

I'm not ON a diet: it's a word to explain your nutritional intake

My mom and I live together. She’s pretty woke for being born in 1968 and having lived through an entirely different period of diets and cultural norms but she definitely still has some pretty toxic diet relationships that she will never unlearn. So unfortunately I grew up in a household with some seriously toxic food and diet conversations. I remember when I first hit puberty and started showing cellulite on the back of my thighs my mom was making me do pilates with her because she was convinced I would hate myself when I got older for having cellulite.

She's been out of town.

Being out of the sight of someone who definitely judges me for what I eat is actually doing more damage than being around her. One greasy day of eating shouldn't budge the scale but 2 weeks of greasy eating surely will....

The extent to which I binge is absolutely unbelievable. My relationship with food is not healthy but not in the way that I’m always seeing being talked about online. Right now it’s super acceptable to be have recovered from an ED like anorexia and accepting the fact that you’re 130lbs instead of 100lbs and workout a lot. The people I see preaching about accepting their bodies, besides Ashley Graham and Tess Holiday, are not the kind of bodies that I can relate to.

I feel like my life will be a forever battle against chewing my nails until they bleed, and potential obesity just sitting over the horizon. I don’t know if that’s normal or that’s a real worry I should have.

I used to binge AND purge. BAD. I really don’t like when people describe foods as “bad” or “oh I was so good today” because that’s obviously a socially acceptable toxic mindset that I would not like to participate in. On the other hand: Purging IS bad. Eating yourself sick with the intention to puke it up afterwards is bad bad bad. I take full responsibility for my own self harm and I also can remember exactly where it started. My best friend, my day one and my forever girl, took about a year apart from each other unintentionally and sowed our own wild oats. She got a boyfriend and I hung around a girl who smoked cigarettes and lost weight by bulimia. I was so inspired by the idea that I could eat anything in the fucking world and just throw it up after and i fucking did. I have been battling depression for what feels like my entire fucking life and this was a super low point, historically, that I saw as a super high point at the time. A lightbulb went off. I don’t think I ever even binged that bad before this time. And unfortunately the damage cannot be undone.

I have a shit history of self harm- I'm not gonna go into those details. Being an intelligent teenager is difficult and that's another story.

I am known for talking and being unashamed and being honest and open and trying to relate to people on a real level. There are some really uncomfortable and disturbing traumatic experiences in my life that I just won’t ever want to talk about. I never want them to be the subject of any discussion. This is one of the biggest secrets I ever kept. I don’t know that I was ashamed at the time but I liked it so much that I didn’t want to share it with anyone else. I knew what other people would have to say about it and I didn’t want to have to stand there and react and pretend like I was going to change while they gasped and scolded me. It’s actually kind of funny because tumblr was the BIBLE for kids with eating disorders. All of the realest, darkest information for frustrated teens was on tumblr back in the day. It was the dark teenagers of my generations gateway into the depths of human psyche. It was the first place I read about kids who fucking hated themselves and look- here I am telling this story for the first time on the only vessel I ever learned it on in the first place. Tumblr has always been a safe anonymous place for self-loathing.

I don’t know that this story was ever going anywhere specific and that’s why it was moved from an IG caption to an entire blog. I don’t know that I’ve ever hated myself but I have treated myself so, so poorly.

So I’ve been home alone for 2 weeks and I have been binging so much. I have been such a fucking anxious mess and I appreciated the space during this time because I don’t always want to explain myself - sometimes I just wanna fucking cry my eyes out while I’m blow drying my hair. I do miss having people around to remind myself of normal functions of life like: vegetables and sleep and normal bed times. I’m giving up on this post but I like typing better than journaling so I believe I will continue.

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negasonicimagines · 6 years ago

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TEAM (Part One)

request: hey can you write an ntw x reader pleeeasssee? maybe angst w a fluff ending?? you're literally my entire resource for ntw fics and i lov you for it thanks so much sweetie. i'm sorry i don't really have like a plot line for you but i mean wade as a shipper is always good (also Colossus being Done With Him)

hey everybody! hurray for more consistent writing, yeah? next part will be the funner, fluffier part, but this is the angsty part!

tw for: abusive drug addict mom (because even I can’t escape that trope), addiction, lots of crying, your death (mentioned), starving yourself (not anorexia or bulimia, also just a mention), depressed!reader, and basically an overall tw for some dark themes. Let me know if I missed anything.

“Your mom said she’d call the cops on me if she caught you crashing here again.” Deadpool, despite being in his suit, wears a robe. He said what he did as he came out of his bedroom to discover you on his couch, obviously having just woken up. He doesn’t mind, though, he never does. Your best friend is a grown fucking man. And that’s the least weird thing about your life.

“She probably doesn’t even remember saying that, dude,” you remind him as he continues walking, to the kitchen. “She was tweaking out of her goddamn mind.”

Wade sighs heavily. He despised your mother, despised any parent who would choose drugs over their own kids. “Why don’t you just stay at Xavier’s full-time instead of just going to school there? Then, she couldn’t call the cops,” he replies, turning on the stove. You finally follow him, sitting at the kitchen island.

“The resources are better spent on someone else. It’d be a waste if I lived there.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t need to eat, or sleep. I don’t need a bed or food.”

Wade scoffs. “Just because you come back to life, doesn’t mean you should kill yourself for the sake of ‘saving resources.’ You need to be more responsible for yourself.”

“Seriously? Coming from you?”

“Hey, I eat and sleep all the time. If eating and sleeping paid the bills, it’s all I’d do. You should be more like me,” he proudly says, and a smile actually makes its way onto your face, surprisingly enough. “There she is!” he happily remarks, and you roll your eyes. “You seem especially down, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” you fib.

He doesn’t buy it.

“I always say that I had another superpower long before Weapon X: I can tell when someone is lying. What’s really going on?”

You scoff. “You never say that. But, uh, you’re right. She stole my fucking Xanax.”

It wasn’t common for Xanax to be prescribed to minors, but nothing else worked for your depression. Xanax was strong enough to break through your metabolism, at least for a little while… But after doing some research and finding that it was addictive, you stopped taking it. You never wanted to end up like your mom.

“You think she might get hooked on that, too?”

“Oh, no, I figured that was gonna happen eventually. I guess the bright side is that I know it’s not pressed fentanyl. But, uh… I’ve been selling it. For food and whatever else it’ll cover. So, not having it really sucks. Who knows how many customers I’ll lose, and I probably won’t be able to eat anything for a-”

Wade places a plate in front of you, silencing you.

“BLT. I know you hate breakfast food, but I wanted bacon and pancakes.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you tell him, meaning it. “Thank you.”

“I’m always going to,” he argues in a sing-song tone. “No problem. I buy in bulk, anyways. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Yeah?” you wonder, interested to know what he’s going to say. People always bitch about him being a blabbermouth, but at least the things he says are interesting. He’s not boring, even if he’s loud and never shuts up.

“Have you ever considered looking for your father? I know you’ve said that he’s probably a POS like her, but maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s a cool guy who just doesn’t know you exist.” You have the vague impression that that’s not what he was planning to say, but you dismiss your intuition, as you have no idea what else he would’ve said.

“And he’s probably better off that way, man. Who wants an asocial, gay, mutant teenage daughter?”

“Ellie’s parents seem to like her, and you’re a lot nicer than she is, even if you’re both obsessed with self-imposed isolation. Hey, if you start living at Xavier’s, you’d see your mutual IRL!”

“I will strongly consider living at Xavier’s School for Gifted Losers if you never use the terms ‘mutual’ or ‘IRL’ ever again, you rotten old man.”

“No promises!” He tells you with a laugh.

Speaking of your mutual, Ellie messages you on Twitter. You take a bite of your sandwich, and respond.

ellienegasonic666: Hey what r u up to today

[your twitter handle]: Hanging w wade, why?

ellienegasonic666: Why would you subject urself to that sksjksjdl

[your twitter handle]: He’s like one of my best friends??? and mom was being a pain again

ellienegasonic666: You should just live @ Xavier’s lol

[your twitter handle]: That’s what wade said lol, I think he’s just trying to get rid of me

ellienegasonic666: Really???

ellienegasonic666: Maybe he’s MY best friend too

[your twitter handle]: You think it’s a good idea???

ellienegasonic666: DUH. You’re like the only person I can stand like at all

[your twitter handle]: Wow… thank you??? Kind of a big compliment coming from you jsadalksjdlak

ellienegasonic666 is typing…

One thing that made you both want and not want to live at Xavier’s was the possibility of seeing Ellie more. She was your only true friend that was your age, and even the same species as you. (You’d befriended many a stray animal in your wanderings about the city.)

And you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on her. Developing feelings for any girl that shows you basic human kindness? Yeah, you were that person. So, on one hand, more opportunities to admire her. On the other, more opportunities for her to see what a fucking loser you are, at least, in your opinion.

You lock your phone, putting it down and continuing to eat your sandwich.

“Come on, kid. Dish. What were you two talking about just now?”

“How do you know I was talking to her?” You ask him.

“Your eyes light up every time your phone vibrates,” he explains. “No one else makes you that happy. Except for me, but I don’t make you happy in that way. That’d be gross.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at his antics. “Listen, when I go to school tomorrow, I’ll discuss it with Logan… If you let me crash here tonight,” you negotiate.

“Fine, but I get to feed you breakfast in the morning,” he replies.

“Sounds good,” you tell him, giving him a thumbs-up.

The rest of the day goes smoothly, you and Wade playing Fortnite and watching Golden Girls together.

You rest your head on your best friend’s shoulder.

“I wish I never had to go back there,” you confess tiredly at around 10 PM, and he sighs.

“Me too,” he admits. “But it’s not safe here. This neighborhood is shitty, and-”

“I live in a shitty neighborhood already,” you cut him off with a reminder.

“And this is Deadpool’s house.”

“I can’t die forever,” you tell him, as if he could ever forget that. Like it wasn’t the only comforting thought when you were assigned to missions, even the safe ones.

“I know,” he replies with a deep sigh that unwinds the tension woven into every fiber of his being. “I know. I’ll consider it, if Xavier’s is at capacity”

The next morning, you wake up at 6 AM for school, silencing your alarm and enjoying the warmth. Before you know it, you’ve slipped back to sleep.

“Y/N. Y/N. Hey.” Each word is punctuated by a poke to your face by a gloved finger. “Listen, kid, I know you need the sleep, so I let you sleep in, but you’re gonna be late to school if you don’t get up and chow down quickly.”

You jolt straight up with a choking gasp, realizing you fell back asleep. You scarf down the toast with (favorite toast topper, be it butter or peach jam or whatever) and bacon, multi-tasking as you get ready.

“I’ll drive you, so don’t worry about makeup and all that junk. You can do it in the car. Just get your teeth brushed and get dressed and shit,” Wade informs you, starting Al’s old klunker so the shitty heater will warm up the car a little bit before the two of you are forced into it by time.

You dash out of the bathroom, small makeup bag in hand and shoes untied, and Wade follows you at a slower but still brisk pace.

“Why’d you let me sleep?” you ask him frustratedly, applying your lipstick(/gloss/balm/whatever) while you wait for his answer.

“I told you, you needed it.”

“I didn’t need it this badly,” you retort, working on your eyeliner next. The two of you hit a bump, so you get out your concealer and salvage what you can.

“You needed it. I’m sick of watching you die of neglect, why is that not enough of a reason for you?” He punctuates his words with a terrible groan, as if he’s pained by this bickering..

“I come back!” you argue, confused about why he’s pushing this taking-care-of-you thing more than usual.

“I know your mom doesn’t give a shit about whether you live or die, but I do! I’m not letting you die, ever again! Get over it!” Wade practically screams in frustration, effectively silencing you.

You sit there, in complete stillness, before getting back to work on your makeup. You put on foundation and blush, contouring before you set it all with translucent powder, sweeping the soft brush over your smooth skin.

“I’m sor-”

You shake your head, pressing your limps together firmly so that no sobs leak out, blinking hard.

Wade knows you hate yelling, not to mention what he said was over the line.

He pulls up to the school.

“I’ve got some business here, later. Do you want me to bring lunch and hang around to pick you up?”

You shake your head. “I’ll walk home, or something.”

“Have a good day?” he offers, and you just walk away, entering the school.

At least I’m on time, you think to yourself, stumbling to homeroom in a haze. Homeroom’s Chemistry, and you definitely didn’t do your homework last night.

“Mx. L/N, your homework?” the teacher says at your desk.

“No,” is your only response.

The teacher sighs, shaking his head in hopelessness before moving on to your lab partner, Ellie.

“Here it is,” she hands it to him. Once he’s moved, she hisses to you: “Why didn’t you just ask me if you could copy mine?”

You curl in on yourself a bit, putting your head on the desk and guarding it with your arms and hands. “Please don’t…” You whisper back, and you mentally chastise yourself for how pathetic you sound.

She places her hand on your back, unintentionally sending rather calming tingles through it.

“What happened? Your mom didn’t hurt you again, did she?”

“I mean, she did, night before last,” you mutter, moving your arms and letting one hand support the weight of your head boredly. “But that’s only a small part of why today is shitty. Don’t worry about it, El. It’s not your problem, okay?”

“Fine, if that’s how it’s gonna be,” she scoffs, but you know she’s not really that offended.

“I’m gonna talk to Logan during lunch about moving here. Crashing at Wade’s isn’t working out anymore.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Ellie asks.

“He just yelled at me this morning. He’s too invested, he was mad ‘cause I don’t eat or sleep enough and I keep-” You remember that Ellie doesn’t know. “I keep getting dizzy spells. But, uh, you know me. I’m a pansy, can’t stand yelling.”

“You’re not a pansy for having trauma,” Ellie grumbles. “Hey, let Logan know that if there’s not another room, I’m fine sharing one with you.”

“Really?” you wonder, taken aback by her kindness. Ellie was always nicer to you than she was to other people, but this was a bit out of character.

“Yeah, why not? You get me,” she says.

The teacher scolds you and other classmates for talking, and the few of you become quiet and try to focus on the lesson.

A couple class periods later, and it’s lunchtime.

“Hey, Logan?” you approach him.

“I didn’t know, or I would’ve told you.”

“About what?” you ask, and if you thought he was frowning before, he definitely wasn’t happy now.

“Forget I said that. What did you want?”

“I wanted to talk about, uh, living here…” you say quietly, and he looks confused.

“Really? I thought you wanted to live out in the city.”

“Yeah, uh, that’s not really working out for me,” you admit.

“You didn’t get attacked by any of those anti-mutant gangs, did you?”

“No, uh, my mom’s not a gang,” you drop the bomb. “Just a physically and verbally abusive bitch.”

“And you’ve been staying with Wade occasionally, haven’t you?” he guesses.

“Yeah, uh, how’d you-? Not the point. We had an argument this morning, and um… I don’t think he’s gonna want me around.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Why does everybody keep asking me that? No. The problem is that he’s too concerned. It’s not good. I don’t die forever and he still acts like it’s the worst thing in the world for it to happen every now and then.”

Logan sighs. “Right. Probably about the thing I didn’t know until recently that I know now and probably shouldn’t tell you.”

“And that is?”

“I should probably let him tell you,” Logan says, looking behind you. You turn around to see your best friend.

“Well, let’s hear it,” you say.

“I- I’m- I don’t want to be friends anymore,” he says. “It’s not appropriate for someone my age to be hanging around you like I do.”

“What? I thought you didn’t care about that shit,” you disagree. “You know you’re not a creep, I know you’re not a creep. Who else does it concern?”

“I don’t want to be friends with you anymore! Get over it, okay?! Don’t come to my house looking for a place to crash when your druggie mother beats your ungrateful ass! Don’t look for me when you’re in town! Don’t text me any boring, unfunny memes! Don’t Snapchat me stupid pictures of you and Ellie being losers! Don’t fucking speak to me! Ever! I don’t wanna see you ever again, got it?! I’m gonna be going now, Logan. Don’t expect me back anytime soon.”

He quickly leaves, and you turn back to Logan.

“What the fuck is going on?” you ask your mentor in a hoarse whisper, keeping your volume low to keep from crying. A tear slips down your face.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting that, I… You can stay here, but I don’t know where. We might have to squeeze you in with someone.”

“Ellie said that I could room with her if there wasn’t enough room,” you tell Logan, imagining wrapping a ribbon around your sadness, so tight, so that no one can see it. So that it won’t come out.

“Sounds good. I’ll let the Professor know. You, try to have a better rest of your day.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of your day is not good. You skip your last two classes and just sit at the foot of Ellie’s bed, choking sobs throwing themselves from your lungs like you wish you could throw yourself off a bridge, sinking into the water and going down, down, down… Drowning every time you awaken from death, only to die again. Perfect Purgatory. No problems other than fighting the instinct to rise to the surface.

Every time you calm down, start breathing normally, splash your face with cold water and blow your nose, thinking you might actually piece yourself back together by the time Ellie gets back from Photography Club, you remember what he said, again. Think about his face, the fury in his eyes when he yelled at you this morning.

And the cycle continues.

“Y/N?!” Ellie. Crap, Ellie can see how fucking pathetic you are. “Y/N, what’s wrong?!”

“He- He hates me… I- I don’t know what I- What I did- I- I can’t fucking breathe,” you cry out. “Everything was fine, and then he was just so- Just so fucking mad today. What did I do, Ellie, do you know?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Wade’s just a fucking bastard.”

“Not to me,” you weep. “Never to me…It hurts so bad, in my chest, I- I- I-” you gasp, again and again, desperate for air. “He- He was my...b-b-best f-friend… Only f-family I had… And he- he hates- hates m- he h-hates me…”

“Shh, Shh…” Ellie says, unsure of what else to do. She’d never been the one to comfort a crying friend, usually leaving that to someone else. But you, you didn’t have anyone else. “He doesn’t hate you. Maybe he was having a bad day. Whatever he said to you, he probably wishes he didn’t. And if he doesn’t, well, I’ll make him fucking wish he didn’t.”

“No!” you scream, an animalistic howl. “Don’t- D-don’t hurt him…” you whimper.

“I won’t, I won’t, I’m sorry. Was just trying to help. Wade-” She sighs, not liking that she has to reveal her feelings, too. “As much as I wanna hate the guy, I can’t. Because he’s a good man. And he loves you, so much. I don’t know why he said what he did, but I get the feeling there’s more to the story.”

“B-but he s-said such awful things…” you whine.

“Here, come on the bed. It’s more comfortable.” Ellie helps you up from the floor, taking off her shoes and lifting her black duvet so that you can slip under. Surrounded by a darkness that includes not just your second best friend, but your crush, was soothing in a way you’d never felt before. You struggle to breathe ends, even if your tears don’t. “What’d he say?”

“Just… Stuff about my mom. He said he didn’t want to be friends anymore, that he didn’t want me staying at his place or even talking to him.”

“That’s really fucking shitty. Do you- Do you want me to hold you?”

“You don’t have to,” you tell her, and she realizes that if she’s going to help you she also has to be emotionally vulnerable. “Why are you being extra nice to me? You really don’t have to, you could just make me lock myself in a bathroom or something.”

“I want to,” she confesses, and you scooch closer to her. She moves you so that your head is on her chest, and her arms are securely around you. As the two of you fidget, your legs tangle together. “I’m sorry about what happened today. I know that he’s your best friend, more than me, and I’d consider us pretty close.”

You hum in acknowledgement, her body’s extra natural warmth lulling you into a haze of emotional numbness and half-sleep. She strokes your hair.

“I love you so much, too. Not like he does, though. I wish we could stay like this forever. I always wanna protect you, even when you’re not in danger. I- I wanna do more than cuddle. I wanna kiss you, and get you flowers, and watch chick-flicks and pretend that I don’t like them just as much as you do. Sing along with stupid, funny voices to Pitch Perfect because we’re both too embarrassed of our real singing voices. I- I want to do all that, forever, and I don’t want you to do that stuff with anyone else, at least not the same way you do it with me. You get what I mean?”

But you don’t answer, having fallen asleep at some point in her ramblings, probably before she confessed the romantic nature of her feelings.

“Damn it,” she mumbles to herself, but is kind of grateful. Now really isn’t the best time, she realizes. She strokes your hair, glad to see you getting some rest after all you’d been through today. She stays there for w while, eventually lifting her arm from on top of you and unlocking her phone. She blocks Wade on every platform.

Normally when Ellie’s on her phone, she’s talking to you. It’s part of the reason she’s so attached to the damn thing. She plays some of the games she has installed for about an hour, before finally admitting to herself that she’s bored out of her mind.

But, it’s dinner time, meaning she has an excuse to wake you up.

“Y/N…” She quietly says, brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s time for dinner…”

“Hmm?” your eyes flutter open, but your eyelids are still heavy. You can’t believe you’re really cuddling with Ellie. You’d thought you dreamed it.

“Dinner,” she repeats.

“Jeez, was I out that long?” you wonder.

“Just for an hour and a half,” she tells you. “Dinnertime is a bit early, to make sure that everyone gets to eat before bedtime.”

“Oh. Cool,” you say, and then you remember why you’re here. You’re all cried out, for now, but you start to shake again.

“Hey, hey, no more of that,” Ellie discourages you. “He doesn’t deserve your tears. You should think about blocking him, on social media and whatever numbers of his you have.”

“B-but what if he wants to be my friend again?” you ask meekly, and she looks down at your hopeful face, sighing.

“Then he can tell you in person, not that he deserves the opportunity.” Ellie tries to calm down, be sympathetic. It was easier at first, but now you’re wearing her down. She doesn’t get why you can’t just get over it, tell your thoughts of him to fuck off. Wade didn’t deserve this mourning, especially not after what he did to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can go to dinner. You can borrow one of my hoodies, if you want.”

You nod, and she gets up, going to her closet and pulling out one of her many dark-colored hoodies. This one is a dark purple, one she doesn’t wear often. She tosses it over her shoulder, popping into the bathroom to grab the pack of makeup wipes.

It’s cold, and the chemicals sting against your sensitive cheeks.

You twitch, and she takes in a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” she quietly says, taking an even more careful approach. She wipes your face, and you have to admit, you do feel refreshed. She takes the purple hoodie from where she threw it over her shoulder, and hands it to you. You pull it over your head, slipping your arms through the sleeves and letting the hood rest on your head. “It looks better on you than it does me.”

You huff out a small laugh at this. “I don’t look good in anything.”

“Calling me ugly?” Ellie asks, snickering. “It’s good to see you smiling.”

You smile a little wider at her compliment. She always makes you feel better.

“Let’s go to dinner,” you tell her, and she nods, taking your hand and leading the way.

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naeshitsherlock · 6 years ago

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I would put this under a read more under the cut or whatever but I’m on mobile and I don’t think I can so basically I just need to dump this here to put it in my diary tag for future reference and posterity etc

So I’ve been back to watching crazy ex gf on Netflix after a long break (watching too much at once makes my own personality go a little crazy so I gotta be careful) and it helped me realise the context of my brain a little better. Unfortunately I can’t find the exact scene on YouTube so I gotta send the script quote instead which has less impact

...so I can’t even find the quote so maybe I paraphrased it in my dream idk. But anyway, not the point. So Rebecca has an emotional collapse and just... gives up. Like wholly and completely. Overdosed on antianxiety pills and gets sent to hospital for a psych evaluation bc clearly she’s not right

And this new doctor comes along and tells her he’s talked to her therapist and checked out her symptoms and thinks he’s maybe got a real accurate diagnosis for her

And it suddenly fills her with so much hope, and she sings this incredible song that might stay in my heart forever

https://youtu.be/nK2DlLmVc20

“Fake it til you make it” is my absolute motto I live by bc I always felt like I don’t feel like other people do. If I get caught up in the moment of something then I can have fun, sure, but generally? Day to day? I mostly just exist inside my own violet thoughts

Everything is just a hazy dark purple

So she sings this song about finally, _*finally*_ having hope that somebody can tell her why she feels how she feels and that there’s a way to cure it

And she’s looking at people who have mental illnesses and says ‘perfect they’re not but at least they know who they are’ (I’ll come back to this part later for another reason)

And that hit me like a ton of bricks

So I’ve been on antidepressants now for three years, but over those years I’ve tested a whole bunch and different concentrations (wait, doses? Science brain takes over sometimes) and even though the one I’m on now makes me feel... I guess stable, I still don’t feel... good

And every time I see my doctor she asks if it could be better

And it’s so hard to remember what I was like _before_ I started taking meds, but then I saw this episode and it just smacked me up the head

Like if you go from having long hair to bald, it’s an easy comparison, yeah? But what if you just chop centimetres at a time until there’s nothing left

It’s so hard to compare between what it was and what it now is

Just sort of realising that knowing what your problem is is a huge weight off your shoulders and I realised how different I am now from me back then

And then I was watching this and Rebecca was like ‘it’s too much effort to do things or see people or go outside or even just exist’ in the most heartbreaking voice, like completely not a deadpan joke, just absolutely broken down and reduced to basal nothingness, and I got like a sudden timetravel moment back to those feelings

When I was in high school I couldn’t hang out with my friends bc of anxiety. My mum forced me into the car to drop me off once and she had to drive me home after I couldn’t stop sobbing in front of my friends for 10 minutes telling them that I really wanted to hang out with them but I felt physically atrocious and was about to throw up my entire gastroinstestinal system

Realistically, one of my biggest issues is that I haven’t even been diagnosed with depression. I’m taking antidepressants but my doctor has never outright stated that I have depression

And even though I’m rational and I know the symptoms add up, there’s still this really quiet voice in the smallest corner of my brain rejecting it

Even back last year when I was in a flat by myself and not working bc I couldn’t find a job, I had... at least two absolutely gut wrenching breakdowns

I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe, like a goddamn baby who can’t use their words to convey their feelings

And it sucked even more bc I CAN use words and I SHOULD be able to convey my feelings, and I just can’t

I cried for almost two hours

It was an awful wail/shriek and once I stopped hyperventillating it would start again

I’ve had anxiety literally as long as I can remember. I was never able to hang out with friends or go to a bathroom without my mum in a restaurant or even just go to a shop and buy something at the checkout until I started uni, and even then it was such a struggle getting through that

I still have that anxiety but now I’m able to boss it around better, but even then I shit myself when I have to go to a shop alone or just... have a professional opinion? Because I feel like an absolute fake

My entire being is just consumed by ennui (the most accurate definition being ‘a crippling listlessness’)

Even going to the doctor, I know it helps, but every month I get anxiety over making the appt, getting the train, seeing the receptionist, talking to the doctor, filling the prescription, making a future appt for the next month, getting the train back, and getting back to my flat

And the whole thing takes ~2h a month but it absolutely destroys me bc it’s not... I guess it’s not enough

I’ve never been seriously suicidal and I hope I never will be, but at the same time one of the reasons is... you have to have an actual desire to kill yourself

I don’t know the last desire I ever had

When I was in high school and my sister almost died in hospital from anorexia I had a complete break, bc my parents just went distant and I probably saw my mother... less than an hour a day. While I was 16. Once I woke her up to tell her I was going to school and instead of saying morning she said ‘I think your sister is going to die’

8am that happened at

I had to then deal with the anxiety of ‘how do I deal with going from being the older sister to the only sister’

If I could pinpoint a moment where I broke? That would be it

...getting back to your original point about how nice it would be to _live_?

I’ve never lived

Not once in my life

That’s why i was trying so hard with online dating even though I hate it so much, because I just want to figure out who the fuck I am and maybe that’ll help me live

It’s similar to the depression - I’ve never had the label so I don’t feel comfortable knowing what’s wrong

I can’t say ‘oh I have the flu, that’s why I feel shitty so it’s ok’

I’m never ok with feeling shitty just _because_, there’s almost always a reason

‘Perfect they’re not but at least they know who they are’ is the one thing keeping me going, that maybe if I work out who/what I am then I’ll start enjoying my existence

I have no major problems, nothing financial or emotional or physical, I’m privileged and surrounded by a support system I guess but I’ve still always felt an extreme detatchmebt

Recently I’ve found myself being super bitter and jealous towards things like the LGBT community bc it’s people celebrating their identity, and I feel like I don’t have one

And yeah ok I can tell myself things like ‘it’s fine to not have a plan’, ‘it’s ok to not know who you are you just need to find yourself’, ‘it’s alright not to get married and be in a committed relationship’, but there’s always part of me that can’t accept those things

youtube

#text #im v much not expecting anybody to read this but if you do pls dont judge me #i just needed to be honest with myself for once and get things off my chest #the most accurate words i use to describe me general basal feelings and emotions are very blue #melancholy ennui and just plain ol morose

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smallgayblanket · 6 years ago

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5 and 11 for the apocalypse squad? 👀

Guilty pleasures

Jackie:

Obviously, he feels guilty having any time/day off..so to have a day where he can lounge around is always kinda a guilty pleasure to him..I feel like something he often avoids is alcohol, and its usually a depression or a guilty pleasure to have a glass of something hard and rough to burn his throat.

Also if anyone makes a fruit cake he may quietly ask for a piece..

Marvin:

I totally see Marvin kinda guilty for being into hypnosis. Being the magician I think it ironic that he’d sit there and watch spirals just to unwind and chill out y’know? I also think he has a small pet shapeshifter that he hasn’t told anyone about and he secretly takes care of it in return for comfort. aaand maybe collects candles and gems in various sizes and shapes and gets excited when he buys new ones but does it alone?

Really likes lavander scented stuff.

Also loves bubble baths with a face mask, buts that only if hes really needing a self spoil day.

Henrik:

This man is a sucker for touches..someone come play with his hair and he’d melt, he’s in dire need of it but won’t admit it. He also sings in his office alone, but god forbid anyone caught him singing “ive been working on the rail road” while he files his papers..

He’s also a sucker for mint flavoured stuff. Those mint shell coated chocolate balls are his favourite.

Chase:

I actually think Chase is secretly really fucking good at like comic book style art. Sketching in his spare alone times.

Course chilling out with a video game and some pizza is a huge pleasure but he’s not always guilty about it XD

Lemon tarts are a special treat of his.

Anti:

Well, asides pain..

He likes to listen to like 8bit sounding music and stuff, like the undertale theme and game themes, stuff like that.

He also has a fondness for sour foods/green apple flavoured stuff and he’s never been sure why but it makes him happy.

Knives are always good.

Dumb but I think Jumper is one of his favourite movies just??..cause.. idk.

Shawn:

A guilty pleasure for him is a bottle of whiskey and a walk out in the night. No work, no people just him and his bottle and his whistling tunes.

Also one of his guilty pleasures is coming to Jameson’s bar for a drink..just to watch the other manhandle the bottles and do his magic. A small stupid thing, but for some reason Shawn holds it dear.

Also I feel like he likes to bake? Breads and stuff, nothing sweet, but just making a nice fresh loaf would be a nice stress relief and fresh bread always tasted great, especially with his famous stews/broths.

Jameson:

Jameson likes to read and do puzzles, but I also think he’s a sucker for dancing. Its hard to get him on the dancefloor with anyone around but alone he has some very nice moves.

I also think he really likes cartoons, but because they’re childish feels silyl for watching them..however he loves the vibrant colours and that the characters are alot easier to read. Plus he likes the escapism. (Though he does enjoy those old classics like Mary poppins and chitty chitty bang bang) As well as some detective shows.

Liquorice has been a fav, despite some of the others thinking it gross.

Robbie:

Robbie has a whole fucking stash of soft items and adores every one of them- its no secret really since everyone buys them and usually finds him buried in them but he loves making nests with all his soft stuff.

Sometimes he’ll also get embarrassed about his outfits too..some very soft and small and even a little feminine that he gets shy about.

Also he mumbles n fidgets and likes to stim so playing with slime or toys or watching stim vids is a huge pleasure of his. Hes also just a huge cuddle slut.

Robbie loves foam squishes the most.

Bad or petty habits

Jackie:

He tries really hard to stay even on everything, but often his sleep can fall out of whack being a hero and all. Sometimes he also gets more injured in fights then he should. Because hes kinda intoit .He also struggles with poor self-image on rare occasions. Also, he pushes himself hard- He’ll just push and push until he finally crumbles and he has no energy left. Which takes alot because he has a fuck ton of energy.

Marvin:

Dealing with dangerous magic and getting hurt is a big number one..also he doesn’t always take proper care of himself and occasionally dabbles in self-harm. Both for the thrill and the fear of not being able to feel anything during the waves when feels unwanted n ignored.

Henrik:

Horrid diet and absurd amount of coffee drinking..his sleeping has never quite been enough and hes just ti red..

Also, he bites the edges of his glasses whenever he’s taken them off his face for closer inspection/idel thought when not looking at anything important.

And he has some serious OCD for stuff. Hence why his office is so neat yet specifically organized and why hes extra stressed when its cluttered and messy…

Chase:

Drinking obviously..and the bad thoughts that he should off himself..toying with guns and drowning in bottles of alcohol- sometimes questioning whether to down any bottles from the medicine cabinet..He also forgets to eat sometimes, and his chronic sleep condition paired with migraines can be a bitch to deal with and alot of his poor drinking and sleep habits make them worse.

Anti:

Oof huh..Anti is a mess. He has a huge habit of isolating himself and not sharing or dealing with his emotions as he should. Also he toys with knifes which, yknow aint safe so he ends up with odd lil knicks and cuts. He bottles up alot of shit and none of its good for him but he struggles to open up to anyone about it.

He often feels alone and empty and that hurts..

Shawn:

Shawn man..He also tends to bury himself in work of making toys and ignoring everyone. Hard lad who doesn’t talk much about feelings and does get touchy easily at all which results in kinda being highly touch starved. He too drinks, forgets to eat and usually only sleeps when his body is at it’s limit and he cant keep his eyes open enough to work.

Jameson

My lad Jameson here seriously seriously struggles with eating. He has anorexia, his ribs are far too viable, he’s very much like a twig, but it all stems from the pain in his throat.

Not to mention he talks despite his broken vocal cords- which is painful, but he doesn’t want to burden people with his sign language.

He also has an awful habit of being unable to say no, defiantly quite the passive polite Pisces.

Robbie

Robbie, hes a pretty good boy..though he can struggle to listen. Sometimes he bites things he really should..eats things he shouldn’t and also tends to overindulge in foods which usually means a stomach ache.

Other than that the others usually keep a good eye on him so he never struggles too bad, but he does sometimes wish he wasn’t so childlike n helpless. he tries his best to be helpful but he can get really lonely when the others are busy..

He’s also a wee bit clumsy and that’s meant some nasty bruises.

Oh and he chews his sleeves alot.

#ari-trash #headcanons #ideas #Septic Squad #Jacksepticeye #Jackie #Shawn #Jameson #Marvin #Henrik #Robbie #Chase #Anti #this is long and some of these are probably shit but eeeey i finished them

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heartbxnd-blog · 6 years ago

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Questions Often Left Unanswered: Mun Edition [Accepting]