#so i’ve never been able to get treatment for my disordered eating

[pollenallergie]

:/

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Until you come back home pt.2

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n received a letter from Bucky, but it was enough to push her into madness...

Warning: Obsessive love disorder/ mental institution/ electric shock/ freezing bath/ 1940s asylum treatments/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.9k

When Harry Crosby came in her room with his letter, she couldn’t believe it. She was going crazy without him. Harry had to argue with the Colonel that she was still sane and still able to do her work, even though it was a lie. She snatched the envelope from his hands and quickly opened it. ‘��Told you he wasn’t dead, Croz, I was right’’ she said, smiling.

My darling Y/n,

I hope you’re doing well; I’ve read every single letter you sent to me. I miss you like crazy, say thank you to Crosby for me, I know he’s taking good care of you, and I’m grateful for it. I’m going crazy too, you know, I miss you so much. I miss everything about you, the conditions are awful here; we only eat potatoes and the other day, we have to kill a cat to eat its meat. It was disgusting, the mattress is so uncomfortable, my back hurts, and I can’t sleep well without you. On a good note, Buck is alive, and he’s here at this camp. That helps a little, but I’m still going crazy. I’m going to try and come back to you, in the meantime, I’ve sent you my necklace, it’s in the envelope, it’s not much but I hope it helps you. I think about you all the time, I’ve started to do the same thing as you, calling your name, until I come back home. I’m driving the guys crazy, but I don’t care. It keeps me sane. We have to keep hoping, I feel that we’re going to see each other again, and when we do, we’re going to get married, and we’re going to live together. I love you, my darling, so much it drives me crazy. Until I come back home; Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…

She hugged the letter before showing it to Crosby. Something in her eyes wasn’t right, something changed. The last bit of her sanity evaporated with the letter, she opened the envelope, taking the necklace and putting it around her neck. ‘’We’re going to get married, Croz’’ she giggled maniacally. ‘’Y/n are you okay?’’ he asked, very concerned with his best friend’s attitude. ‘’Bucky, Bucky, Bucky’’ she kept calling his name, over and over again. ‘’You’re scaring me! Are you okay?’’ he raised his voice. ‘’Never better, Croz’’ she smiled. It pained him, but he had to place her somewhere, she didn’t look okay, and frankly, Crosby was afraid that she would hurt herself, and others. So that night, he went to talk to Colonel Harding, and then, went to his desk, to write a letter.

When Bucky saw that the letter he got was not from Y/n, he was confused. When he saw that it was from Harry Crosby, he was worried. He quickly opened the envelope to see why his girlfriend wasn’t writing to him.

Hello Bucky,

Sorry for not being Y/n. I appreciate your kind words in her letters, I tried to look after her in the best way possible, but after your letter, she’s gone mad. And I don’t mean it lightly, I was afraid for her security, I thought she was going to hurt herself and others on the base. That’s why Colonel and I found it better to send her away, where she can get the help she needs. I wasn’t happy doing it, I felt really bad, but trust me, she needed it. The psychiatrist told me she has an obsessive love disorder. It is easy to cure, but it’s going to be hard. She will still be in love with you because I can tell she truly cares about you. The problem is she’s obsessed with you. She can’t live with the idea of you being dead or injured. She can have self-destructive behavior, so that’s why we decided to send her away. I visited her often. The first weeks were hard, but today marks the second month she’s been there, and I can tell she’s improving. I hope you’re okay, I’m going to try to keep you updated on her progress.

Harry Crosby

They put her into a mental institute. He couldn’t believe it, she wasn’t crazy, she was in love. Even if it made him angry, he understood why he did it. Bucky was just hoping that she was okay, and that they weren’t torturing her.

Electrical shock, that’s how they were ‘curing’ her, by electrocuting her. They also put her into an ice bath. But the doctor said she was getting better at first, she fought the guards, but by the time she did her fifth treatment, she grew tried of fighting them, so she stopped. Today was important for her, she was going to be evaluated by the psychiatrist and he was going to determine if she could get out of here, she needed to be on her best behavior. When guards came in her room, she was sat on her bed, ready to be escorted to his office. When she entered the room, she was nervous, her hands were shaking, and she felt like she was going to throw up. ‘’Hello Y/n, how are you today?’’ Dr. Phillips asked. She cleared her throat before speaking. ‘’Hi Dr. Phillips, I’m quite well, how are you?’’ she spoke nervously. He pressed his elbow in his desk, looking at his notes before responding. ‘’Good, thank you. So do you know why you’re here today?’’ she nodded and gulped. ‘’You’re going to tell me if I’m crazy or not’’ she whispered. Dr. Phillips laughed. ‘’Oh, Y/n, you’re not crazy, who told you that?’’ he laughed. He did, multiple times as he gave her shocks. ‘’Trevor did’’ she lied, Trevor was her only friend here, he was here because he could hear voices. Trevor claimed that he was blessed by the gods. ‘’Y/n, I’m the one that can say if you’re crazy or not, and from what I’m seeing in your file, you’re not crazy anymore’’ she shifted in her seat. She fixed her hair, looking at the ground. She couldn’t look at Dr. Phillips in the eyes, she was scared of him. ‘’Can I, uh, can I, g-g-get out?’’ she stuttered, whispering. She was afraid that he was going to give her an ice bath. ‘’Yes! That’s why I wanted to see you, I wanted to tell you the good news myself, your friend, Harry Crosby, is waiting for you in the lobby.’’ Dr. Phillips exclaimed.

His feet were bouncing on the ground, he couldn’t wait to see her. Harry Crosby got a call yesterday, saying that Y/n was going to be released. When the door opened, he saw her. She looked weak, fragile and tired, what the hell did they do to her. She was skinny, did they feed her? Her cheeks were hollow, and she had purple circles under her eyes. But when Y/n saw her best friend, she smiled, that was the first real smile she had in weeks. ‘’Crosby!’’ she exclaimed, walking towards him. ‘’Hey you! It’s so good to see you!’’ he exclaimed, trying not to show his concern in front of the doctor. ‘’She’s all good and ready to go home, take good care of her.’’ Dr. Phillips patted her back, but she flinched.

The second they were inside the Jeep, Harry drove far away from this place, he was going fast. ‘’Are you okay? What did they do to you?’’ he asked, concerned. Y/n turned to look at her friend. ‘’They cured me’’ she simply said. He sputtered. ‘’Do you still love him?’’ he asked, scared of her answer. ‘’I think so’’ her gaze was empty, it wasn’t normal, something was off.

Gale Cleven escaped, he managed to escape and now he was back on the base. He looked for Y/n, Bucky asked him to go check on her. He knew she had been in a mental institute, but when he saw her, getting out of Crosby’s Jeep, he felt sick. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew, who was this woman. She was walking towards him, smiling, but her eyes were numb. ‘’Gale! How are you?’’ she asked him, smiling. ‘’I’m good, Y/n, how are you, you look hungry’’ he stated, seeing how thin she was. ‘’I’m well, but I am hungry, can we go eat?’’ her tone was monotone, like a robot. It was like her brain was fried. ‘’I gotta go, please can you try to get information on what happened there’’ Harry whispered in Buck’s ear, he nodded as they both walked towards the cafeteria. Since it wasn’t the rush, the cafeteria wasn’t crowded.

She took a bite of the food and smiled. ‘’It’s good?’’ Buck asked. She nodded. ‘’Very, I only ate porridge and bread’’ she admitted, unknowingly. ‘’You look better, Y/n, what did they give you?’’ he asked, hiding his concerns. ‘’Stuff’’ she took another bite of her food. ‘’What kind of stuff?’’ he asked. She zoned out, she thought about the shocks and the freezing water on her skin, her eyes filled with tears. ‘’Baths and a painful treatment’’ she mumbled, but Gale understood every word.

When Bucky came back on the base, he couldn’t wait to see his girlfriend, but Harry Crosby stopped him. ‘’Bucky, wait, we have to tell you something’’ he grabbed his arm. ‘’What Cros?’’ he asked, annoyed that he couldn’t see his girl. He tilts his head to tell him to go into another room. The Colonel was leaning against the table, Gale was seated on a chair, Harry closed the door and offered Bucky a chair. ‘’Major, I would sit down if I were you’’ Colonel Harding ordered. Bucky was confused, what the hell was going on, where was his girlfriend. ‘’Where’s Y/n?’’ he asked. ‘’She’s in her room, but she’s different, Bucky. That place changed her’’ Buck started. ‘’How could they change her?’’ he chuckled nervously. ‘’I didn’t know what kind of treatment they were administering her, but she told Buck everything’’ Crosby started. Bucky looked at his friend, he had his head down. ‘’Electrical shock, ice baths, steam baths, they gave her shock, they almost fried her brain. They fed her porridge and bread; they wouldn’t let her sleep’’ he explained. John Egan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘’H-how’s that legal?’’ he exclaimed, nervously. ‘’But the problem is, the treatments worked, but we don’t know how she’ll react to you being there, Major’’ Harding explained.

Y/n was sitting on her bed, reading the letters she missed when she was away. She heard a knock, and she turned around. There he was Bucky was in front of her. She got up from the bed and smiled. ‘’You’re alive?’’ she choked up on emotions. ‘’I am, darling’’ he said, cautiously, not wanting to trigger anything. ‘’You’re real?’’ she asked. He nodded, she carefully walked up to him, she took his hand, she was making sure he was real. His hand was warm, and his skin was soft. Her eyes filled with happy tears as she looked at him. He gently put his hand on her cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. ‘’I love you so much’’ she breathed out, before hugging him. In his arms, every shock, every bath and every torture went away. He was back, she was hugging him, he was real. ‘’You came back home’’ she cried out. ‘’Told you I was coming back, darling’’ he softly whispered in her ear. ‘’Never leave me again.’’ She pleaded. ‘’Never, darling. Because I don’t wanna live forever if my life is not with you’’

[seeingteacupsindragons]

So I’ve been thinking a lot about mental health and mental illness lately (thanks, new psychiatrist) as I process a new diagnosis and what it means and reframing my image of myself, so I want to talk about some stuff.

So if you know all this already, just. Bear with me, okay, I’m processing a lot right now.

A lot of people on here get annoyed at advice to, like, go for a walk or do yoga or see sunlight or clean things up or meditate or whatever. And I get it, because I also get annoyed at people thinking that will solve my problems. I have had a boss try to get me to do a damn meditation app as if that would solve the work impact my mental illness was having, and it infuriated me.

But, that’s not because it doesn’t solve a problem. It just doesn’t solve the problem I have.

Meditation apps and all that other stuff are basically the mental health equivalent of eating a salad and jogging once a week. Someone who doesn’t do those things, even if they’re not otherwise sick, are not going to be very healthy and are going to feel kind of gross. It’s baseline health care.

But eating a salad isn’t going to cut it if you have a broken leg. You actually need medical care.

(Please go to a doctor if you have a broken leg. Thank you)

Now, if you get the mental health equivalent of a cold—something stressful is going on at work or with your friends, or a lot of small emergencies are popping up at once—you can probably still get by without a doctor. Increase the vegetables, get some soup, rest and sleep a lot. Do some extra mindfulness exercises, take a new yoga class, get a little TLC, clean your room. It will help you feel a lot better, and then the “illness/blip” will pass and you’ll be back to baseline in relatively short order, without needing to see a doctor.

But what if you have mental health bronchitis, or a broken leg? I would compare these to maybe some post-partum mental health issues, or grieving a death of someone, or a divorce, or something like that. You may actually need to see a doctor, get some care, see a therapist and get counseling, maybe briefly stop by on some antidepressants or anti-anxiety meds to help you recover. And then you’ll probably be mostly okay, with maybe some lingering issues and a good strong memory of that time you were Not Okay.

But you weren’t going to get okay without something a lot more than vegetables and cardio.

And then there’s the Chronic Mental Health issues, like many mood disorders or personality disorders, or PTSD/CPTSD, panic disorders, phobias…the lingering things that need serious help and you are very likely in fact to never full recover from, or even partially in some cases. These are where you get type one diabetes or Celiac’s or an amputation, or multiple sclerosis, or any of that. Stuff where you desperately need regular, often daily, medical care and management to stay healthy and functional.

And these ones are going to change your life even with medical care. A diabetic might need a medical device attached to them at all times, they are likely to need to check their blood sugar regularly, they’ll need to think about what they eat and how it will effect them, they’ll need to carry glucose tabs. They might have a medical ID bracelet! And sometimes mistakes might still happen and things go very badly. An amputee might have a prosthetic or might not, but either way it won’t do everything a biological appendage will, and they’ll have to adjust their lives to how to move and pick things up or whatever in a very different way to someone who has that body part. And someone with Celiac’s is just not going to be able to eat gluten. Not matter what medicine they take. It’s not going to happen.

And that’s the thing: even when you’re getting regular medical care and treatment, and you have a plan worked out and you’re used to it, if you have a mood disorder or PTSD or schizophrenia or something…you may very well never quite have a life that looks like someone who only needs yoga and meditation classes. You may always need other accommodations and lifestyle adjustments to function and manage.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy. It means things are going to be so different for you that the people who manage with salad and a treadmill are just not going to be able to offer any useful advice to you. Your needs are way too different.

And then there’s getting into a car crash or catching meningitis. Sometimes, shit is just going to happen to people, and they are going to need to be hospitalized and watched very carefully for a while. I would probably categorize a lot of mental breakdowns, like the kinds that are at the onset of many mood or panic disorders, some levels of psychosis, sometimes the death of someone very dear to you—in fact, many of the things that might be broken legs to some might turn out here. Maybe someone else broken their leg with a nice clean fracture, but yours was a complicated shatter of a joint that started healing wrong and also got infected.

And the hospitalization isn’t going to be the end of your care, either. You’ll stay in the hospital until they can get you stable, until you don’t need medical professionals a button press away, until you can be assumed to recover the rest of the way on your own.

But, for people who know people who have come home from the hospital after a surgery or serious illness…it’s far from the end of the road, or even return to a new baseline. You’re going to need a lot of help and rest and recovery even after hospital discharge. Someone will probably have to watch you, might need to help you take your meds, might need to bring you food and drinks, or cook, or do chores.

And people who care should, maybe, understand, and send, “Get well soon,” and “Thinking of you” and flowers, and organize meal trains and otherwise show up for someone who is seriously ill.

Of course, a lot of that would be weird in the Chronic Illness space. But there, I think the understand would be, “Yeah, you know your friend can’t have gluten,” and “Why would you suggest they go for a hike with you when they’re in a wheelchair, you dick?” and “I made you low-sugar treats! I worked super hard on the recipe!” so people around you know that you have different needs and you care enough to accommodate them and make sure they are still cared for…differently.

I don’t think I’m going to edit this before posting.

But I’m thinking about it a lot, and I think I’m going from a place where I though I had a broken leg to realizing the leg was never actually going to heal without a limp, to realizing, in fact, that the leg didn’t break the way I thought it did and I need some physical therapy and a new doctor to get it working and see what happens then.

Maybe this was helpful to someone besides me. But it felt good to get it all into words!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for hiding my kink from my partner?

My partner (21NB) and I (22F) have been dating since high school. It’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in. They’re understanding and communicative and we’ve never had major fights- nothing that we haven’t been able to talk through within a week, at least.

When I was 17, I did a bit of soul searching and ended up discovering I had a feedism kink. I’m mostly ace, so it came as a pretty big surprise, and I’m still coming to terms with it. The only content I engage with is from fat liberationists in the scene, and I try really hard to be mindful of fat politics and only seek out stuff made by sex workers who are willingly in the feedism scene. I grew up catholic and my guilt about having a kink at All is pretty bad, so I haven’t told anybody in my life about it. Nobody at All.

A few years ago, my partner opened up to me about having an eating disorder. Anorexia that progressed into bulimia. They mostly let me know so that they’d have somebody to talk with about it since the people in their life who Do know don’t really care. They’re seeking treatment for it and for the most part I try to only talk about whatever they’re comfortable with; I don’t bring it up if they don’t, I’m not trying to fix them myself or anything; I know this is something I don’t have control over and it’s not something I’m qualified to try and help with.

My kink is completely disconnected from my partner. They know I’m ace and they’re fine with it, and we don’t really have plans to be intimate with each other. We haven’t before. I have a really strict boundary in my head between my kink and my partner- they’re entirely separate and I’d never ever want those streams to cross. I keep a tight lid on the kink in general. Being mostly ace, I’ve never gotten Turned On by anything in day to day life. I only get horny when it’s time to jerk it and I pull up porn or whatever.

I think that bringing up my kink to my partner right now could trigger them, which is another reason why I DON’T and really never want to. I’m honestly not sure how bringing it up would go. As a person, I don’t think they’d judge me for it and I’m sure we could talk it through, but I don’t want them to think I’ve ever thought about them in the context of the kink bc of their disorder. I never have and I’ve never wanted to, but the idea of triggering them at all is really upsetting to me. I’d never push anything on them without their consent and I’m way too eager to convict myself of thought crime to ever be comfortable actually Engaging with the kink and involving anybody else.

I’m fine with it being a secret forever, but AITA for that? I have no intentions of letting my partner know about the kink and I’m wondering if this is a dick move. Is keeping it a secret the right way to go about it? Would it be MORE of a dick move to let them know?

What are these acronyms?

[compassionatereminders]

hi Kat… I’m kind of freaking out. I just need to get this out to Someone, so thanks for being here…

I recently came to discover I have and was diagnosed with DID/OSDD. I’ve been very slowly figuring out what that means for me. but my best friend doesn’t really understand it, though they are trying to but they’ve said some hurtful things on accident, but even after apologizing and making effort to understand better, I’ve still started feeling like I just can’t trust them with talking about this. I want to be able to, but I’m scared they’ll just never understand. in addition I’ve also been rapidly swinging from “Very Noticeably Symptomatic” to “complete denial and feeling like I’m faking it and tricking everyone” and it’s just a big mess…

and right now I’m across the country from my gf and best friend (who i live with), staying with my family for a business trip, and while I’ve been here I’ve been getting pretty triggered for my eating disorder, and all the other stress is making it worse.. I don’t want to get really bad again, same thing happened last year and I had to go to residential treatment for 5 whole months. I literally can’t afford to get bad again. I just feel like I’m gonna explode and I’m stuck 😣

I don't have DID, but I just want to say that while adjusting to a new diagnosis, it can often take a while to figure out what kind of support you need and how to actually articulate those needs, and that this struggle doesn't necessarily imply that you'll never be able to receive the support you need from the people around you.

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

I'm so tired. I feel like my whole life I've been fighting to have a healthy relationship with food and my body, and I just can't do it anymore. I can't fight anymore. And it's so, so easy in comparison to restrict and obsess over tracking everything I eat

I'm dealing with symptoms of a currently unknown disability right now, and I'm so tired. I'm tired of doctors saying "wow, I have no idea what's going on, I've never seen labs like this... but I'm sure losing weight will help!" (Or, worse, "looks like everything's fine, just lose some weight!") It's become this belief that if I was skinny my symptoms would be taken seriously. If I was skinny I'd be able to figure out what was going wrong because doctors wouldn't rely on my weight to explain everything. I know logically there are lots of disabled people who are still ignored while being skinny, who still struggle to be taken seriously, but I can't shake this feeling that everything would be easier if I was skinny

It feels like my life is in the hands of people who don't give a shit about me. And they still probably wouldn't give a shit if I was skinny, but maybe they would. I don't know, I've never been skinny, so I can imagine that everything would be perfect if I was

It's definitely at least partially a desire to have control over my body, too. I can't stop my symptoms, I don't have the tools to figure out what's wrong on my own, but I can starve myself! It seems very silly written out, and it is, but knowing it's silly isn't enough

I saw in your about that you've dealt with comorbid chronic illness and eating disorders, so I guess I'm asking... how? That's probably already on your blog somewhere, actually, so I guess I'm just venting more than anything. Advice would be appreciated, though

God, I feel this so hard, anon. So so hard.

First of all, I am so sorry I have taken so long to get to this ask. Work, ny studies, and my personal life have all been overwhelming lately and I’ve been having to focus on some wellness work for myself.

But yeah. What you’re talking about is a REAL problem, and you are not alone. And the constant medical neglect of fat people and the “I’m sure all your mystery symptoms will go away if you just lose weight” is just the cherry on top of the shit sundae that is chronic illness. It hurts peoples’ lives. It can kill. I don’t have a quick fix for this system, anon, but I just wanted to take a moment to validate you because I know that what you’re going through is so frustrating and draining and soul-sucking. I am mentally sending you strength.

First of all, I might have one suggestion for you: lie. Lie to your medical professionals about just one thing, and no other: tell them you are already on a weight-loss journey, even if you are not. If it gets you the help you need in this system - yeah, fib a little. But then, explain to your doctors that the reason you are seeking treatment for your symptoms so proactively is that they are preventing you from doing what you need to do to lose weight. Yes, of course you really want treatment to improve your basic quality of life, but when you’re talking to your doctor, sometimes you gotta frame it in a way they’ll hear. Explain how each symptom has made you unable to pursue an active lifestyle. Or how you’ve been too fatigued to meal prep, or how your symptoms are costing you so much that you are struggling to budget for dietary changes. You don’t have to actually be planning any of these things, but if it gets them to continue pursuing the source of your symptoms, just lie. I know it’s so triggering and awful to have to do this just to get taken seriously, so set aside time to prioritize something that you find self-caring after this.)

I know you say your desire to control your body seems silly written out, but it’s not silly at all. I get it. I really really do because I have the same impulse. When your body keeps acting out of your control in painful ways, it’ll make you desperate. And when you’ve had the message pushed your whole life that being skinny fixes everything, it tends to stick in your mind. You are not alone. You are desperate and being driven by a valid impulse.

Instead of pursuing an eating disorder, remind yourself that eating disorders only give you the illusion of control. Eating disorders only pave the way for the disorder to get more control over you. Not to mention, starving yourself will likely take even more of a toll on your health, doing lasting damage if you lose a significant amount of weight from starving. You are allowed to love yourself more than that. I know it’s hard. I know it’s hard to keep fighting for yourself.

Are you in any chronic illness support groups, online or in person? If you aren’t, I suggest you find some. You may find a good outlet to vent about symptoms, get advice on what got doctors to take other people seriously, and learn more about your own symptoms.

While I don’t recommend starving yourself, you could try tracking your symptoms in relation to certain foods and see if specific food sensitivities worsened them (this was true for me.) For me personally, it helps to remind myself that these foods aren’t “bad” foods - they’re just not good FOR ME, and choosing the ones that make me feel better is a way of taking care of and loving my body. (If you find your symptoms do not change based on dietary experimentation, you can disregard this advice.) For me, it can be really triggering having to avoid certain foods, so I definitely have to take a pause to calm down and talk myself through it sometimes.

Things like meditation exercises, gentle yoga, de-stressing exercises and therapy will not cure your chronic health condition, but may help keep symptoms from spiking as badly because stress is known to exacerbate physical symptoms. (Easier said than done, I know - what you’re going through is stressful. I am not telling you not to feel stressed, just to try and create small pockets of time where you try to give yourself a break from stress, which may not come naturally and may be hard because you cannot go to a place of escaping your symptoms. Just keep trying patiently and be compassionate with yourself.)

Anon, I really really hope this gives you some sort of help and comfort, even though it’s not a cure-all and I did get to it so late. There’s more I could say based on knowing specific symptoms if you’re okay sharing them, but for now I’ll just leave it at this. Feel free to vent in my inbox any time.

[ryan-waddell11]

just something I wanted to say as this week comes to a close!!

tw: ED mention below

This past week is has been so important to me. It was Eating Disorders Awareness Week. I don’t want sympathy. I just want to spread awareness. I have struggled with disordered eating behaviors and body dysmorphia since I was 11 years old. Over half of my life. I never realized I had a problem because I wasn’t actively aware. I wasn’t forcing myself not to eat so it never seemed like a problem. I just ate when I felt like it. Now many people only associate eating disorders or disordered eating habits on people who want to lose weight. This is not always the case.

Reflecting on my personal journey I realized that the root of my problems began when I hit puberty and was bullied for developing young. It was something I couldn’t control and I felt like a monster. I remember making the promise to myself not to eat if I wasn’t hungry, which didn’t seem unhealthy, but reflecting now I realized how damaging it was. I kept that promise, but I’ve never been able to free myself from those habits. Even when I look at my body, I see the damage that I’ve done that feels almost irreversible. I have rib flares from where I sucked in my stomach so much to try and look thinner. I have the habit of not eating for hours and days on end and then shoving food in my face the second I feel hungry until that feeling goes away because I don’t know when I’ll be hungry again. it’s incredibly hard for me to break these habits, but I am working towards bettering myself.

This is still something I struggle with every single day. So, while I am currently trying to work on my recovery for these behaviors, I’m not fully recovered, and I don’t think I ever will be because the thoughts that come with this are really hard to overcome and will always be there. I’m afraid I will slip back into my old behaviors. It’s something so difficult to deal with. I never want to say I’m fully recovered because I know that if I do slip into these behaviors I’ll feel like a disappointment.

There is still a lot of stigma and misunderstanding about eating disorders. Although conversations around this topic have changed, there’s unfortunately an underlying view that it is somehow the person’s fault, and that if they could only learn some self-control they would recover easily. This just isn’t true. Eating disorders are serious mental illnesses that require care, treatment and respect in order to help sufferers cope.

A major reason why others and myself don’t look for help/support is because of the negative messages we receive from friends and family. I, like many others didn’t want to be treated differently or make the comments that say, “it’s all in your head,” “she’s not losing any weight she must be faking it,” or “I could never do that. I love food too much.” These are always circling in the mind and sadly this prevents so many from getting the help they need and deserve. Please remember to be kind and mindful when you look at someone’s body. You have no idea with what they’re going through.

It’s one of the scariest and bravest things you can do, but I want to reassure you. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

[t00tired-vent]

TW vent

Ed, and mental health

I’ve been at my boyfriend’s house for the last 3 days, I have probably eaten a total of 1500 cals over the 3 days.

It started off me just being anxious while he was at work and I was home alone with his mom and brother. His mom kept offering me food throughout the day and I felt so disrespectful to continuously be saying “no thank you” to every food I was offered. The next day his family left to go to visit their Opa and bf worked all day again. I didn’t eat anything until 10pm and I was “proud of myself” but I know that my body is not handling it well. Today I managed to eat half a slice of pizza and I did let my bf know that he’ll probably have to help out more with dinner tonight since I’ve been dizzy and lightheaded for days at this point but didn’t mention why I’ve been feeling like crap because I don’t want to worry him.

I wish it wasn’t so hard for me to just fuel my body but I’ve been struggling with @notex!a since I was 14 (5 years I’m 19 now) and I’ve been through residential Ed treatment three times but over the last 3 years all of my support has gone away. Since I’m 19 I no longer have access to children’s mental health services and I live in a very very rural area where there just isn’t any mental health support let alone eating disorder support and I really just don’t know what to do.

I know I’ve gotten worse again because I’ve been tracking my weight in the last few months I’ve gone from ~170lbs to 118lbs (lost about 50lbs in the span of about 6 months) its getting a little scary because daily I’m lightheaded and dizzy, my heart sometimes feels like it’s beating slower, I’m losing hair, and even when I WANT to eat I just can’t.

I feel like a failure because so many people tried to help me in the beginning, I got a little better but now even though im not at my lowest weight from my previous attempts at recovery I’ve never struggled with this disorder more than I am right now. I’m constantly body checking myself and weighing myself and it feels like all I can’t think about it food and my weight.

I haven’t started counting calories again and I’m going to keep trying to not let that habit form again and I also haven’t started exercising again but that’s because I’m so tired and physically not able to that I haven’t even attempted to start exercising again.

It’s just so stressful to not be able to do what I want to do. I’ve been struggling with this disorder for 5 fucking years and it’s still causing issues in my life.

[findingmypeace]

So here’s my update. I apologize that it’s probably not going to be that positive. It’s been a really long week and I think I’ve pretty much hit my limit. I’m not sure I can push through much longer. Some of that is related to how I’m physically feeling but it’s mostly related to depression, frustration/anger, and apathy.

I’m not going to get into much detail with this but I’ve been struggling a lot with work quite a bit lately. This is devastating and I’m terrified that I might ruin one of the bests jobs I’ve ever had. I’m really trying to mitigate issues that have come up but I constantly feel like I’m in trouble. I realize everyone is stressed due to things that have happened so I am trying to recognize it’s not all about me.

Quite honesty, outside of work I’m not really sure what to say.

I guess I just really don’t know where to go from here. There are some things that when I’m reminded of them I do think maybe treatment is needed. Mostly things that the eating disorder has become terrified of. I know my thoughts aren’t logical but I am so, so scared to the point of having a panic attack the other day when forced to minimally confront it. It wasn’t until after that panic attack that I was able to realize things are becoming more and more out of control.

At the same time, I have heard an overwhelming amount of times that nothing is wrong. The amount of times I’ve heard that from medical professionals, family members, and now my insurance company just really makes never want to think or talk about it again. I got the denial letter in the mail today that explained why the denied care. Apparently, I’m not suicidal or homicidal and I’m just dealing with tachycardia and 1 incidence of almost passing out. Of course, that’s the only information they have. Because it’s all in my head. None of my other symptoms are real and if they are real nobody cares (ie: medical providers) because I’m just being a drama queen.

I can’t do it anymore. It’s not worth it. There’s so much more to this but I just feel so hopeless and don’t really have the energy to write out much more.

Honestly, the bottom line is there is so much doubt by others that treatment is even necessary let alone helpful and I really didn’t want to go anyway so why should I even try to make it happen. It’s so much work and I have no doubt I will continue to receive answers saying that, for whatever reason, what I’m experiencing is just in my head. I don’t want to keep hearing that. I heard that hundreds of times from my parents throughout my life. Ex: I refused to go to ER last Friday even though my therapist thought I should (I was struggling to stand without feeling like I was going to pass out) because I knew I’d get there, they’d run a whole bunch of tests and either things would be normal or I’d be told my life would be perfect if I just lost weight. Or maybe the machine is broken and that’s why the numbers are off. NOTHING IS WRONG!!! I’m perfectly fine. I’m just fat, have anxiety, and my acid reflux is acting up (why my heart is not feeling that great). It’s just too much effort to A) try to convince people something is wrong when I’ve repeatedly been told throughout my life that I’m just a drama queen and B) go through all the effort to be admitted to a treatment center.

I don’t know. Dealing with all of this and my work issues this week has been too much and now I’m at my limit. I just want to give up.

If I have time tomorrow I’ll write a little more about the details. I’m just having a hard time keeping my eyes open so I’ll have to finish tomorrow.

[beazt]

I got an ad on YouTube the other day, and maybe if my circumstances were different I would’ve watched the whole ad so I could pinpoint more harmful parts about it. I skipped most of it.

but the part I did see said almost verbatim “constipation can make skinny women feel plus size.” but I think it may have used the phrase “stuck poop” instead of constipation. I can’t find any accessible version of the ad, so I’m hoping they fucking rethought it and pulled it.

some of my general thoughts, admittedly without poring over my wording for perfection and tone:

1) I generally do not give a fuck if a skinny person “feels fat” from constipation. 2) softening the blow using the word “plus size” isn’t the progressive look you think it is. 3) can we please for the love of everything fucking holy stop centering the skinniest women in conversations and experiences of fatness. 4) this may get my head blown off but constipation making you look a bit bloated =/= you look fat. if you think mild bloating is the same as looking fat I’m inclined to suspect you don’t look at fat people very much.

(these next 2 points get no further discussion in this iteration of the post because I am fucking tired, others can add discussion of these as well as any other points I’ve left out)

5) why is “looking fat” the most important factor making you want to relieve the constipation. 6) the marketing of this is definitely going to fuel disordered laxative abuse

more in depth discussion below

1) if you ever go into intensive eating disorder treatment like I have been, you will get exhausted of hearing the phrase “fat isn’t a feeling.” it’s often either A) a fear of fatness or B) disgust and/or shame about perceived fatness. both of these need to be worked on on an individual and cultural scale. I’m not saying there’s never a reason to fear it— but I rarely ever see anyone skinny’s fears align with the most harmful results of fatphobia— medical negligence, inaccessibility, “fat tax” where necessary items don’t exist or are much more expensive, etc. And i’m not going to put the qualifier of “maybe they just don’t talk about that part” because when I was in my 7 months of intensive ED treatment, none of the providers in the facilities knew how to handle those fears and trauma that caused my ED as a way to escape them— some of them hadn’t even realized those were widespread issues.

and yes, the more prominent fears and shame surrounding fatness are often based in reality of how fat people are treated, and indicate major societal and internalized fatphobia. but the internalized parts can be worked on, and the societal parts can be worked on at an individual scale, and way too many people will fight tooth and nail to be able to further demonize fat people rather than address those biases or get involved with fat liberation. and that makes fat liberation a lot more difficult and directly contributed to the harm towards those of us who are already fat. thus, I do not have much sympathy on a population-scale for skinny folks who express they “feel fat.”

2) I despise the phrase “plus size” because no one ever advertises “straight size” clothing by that name or calls themselves “straight size” outside of specific clothing contexts where “plus size” is already involved. using that phrase here absolutely reinforces the idea that skinny=normal/default and fat=abnormal/anomaly while simultaneously reducing us to an ambiguous, impersonal, mass-marketable clothing size range. not to mention that “plus size” can mean anything including “you aren’t wafer thin and 5’0.” it’s performative and pretty antithetical to reducing fatphobia in this usage if you ask me, I highly highly doubt they were including any sort of reclamation of the term “plus size” here since they’re painting it as an undesirable trait

3) this is slowly changing I think but nearly every conversation about fatphobia that isn’t started by fat folks either starts as “but it’s so harmful when skinny people get seen as fat even if it’s just body dysmorphia :(“ or frequently the rest get derailed into “it’s hard to be skinny too!!” and/or the above sentiment. I’m tired of that. there are conversations you can be included in but why don’t you amplify voices of folks well above your size and those with intersecting marginalizations ever, instead of making every single conversation about you?

4) just clarifying here but if you’re constipated enough to change your size significantly enough for you to be considered fat and this is frequent/consistent enough to affect your daily life… you probably want to get that checked out if you can. your intestines will thank you. if there’s no easy solution to help your gut, really think about how you can join in with us who are already fighting for fat liberation. reflect on why you think this is a unique experience that others you from the “actual fat people” that you are assuming are fat for the “wrong reasons” and why you are desperate to consider yourself not fat. everyone else who is complaining about some moderate temporary bloating making them feel fat idk what else to say to you.

and of course a lot of this ties into ableism and racism and misogyny, like much of fatphobia does, I want to acknowledge and emphasize that none of this is in a vacuum, but I’m just too tired to make this post any longer at the moment to dissect the interplay of those topics… you see where I’m going. it’d take me a chapter of a book to analyze everything I want to about this commercial and I simply am not in good enough physical or mental shape to do that right now. so im just throwing out what I can spout off the top of my head. it’s just a blog post from some rando, set your expectations.

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

i wanted to talk a little bit about mental health and how i’m doing recently

trigger warning: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, borderline imposter syndrome, disordered eating/thoughts

for a while now, i’ve been pretty low with a few days here and there where i’m genuinely happy. may and june were so rough in every way and august is seeming to turn the same direction.

i also have lost a lot of my passion for cosmetology. i hate this school and it’s slowly making me hate what once was comforting to me. my director legit doesn’t care, there so much unnecessary fucking drama, and i’m not having fun anymore. i never get to show my skills. i’m like a robot: haircut, root touch up, wash and blow, deep conditioning treatment, haircut, root touch up, wash and blow, deep conditioning treatment. same thing, over and over and over again. i’m good at what i do but i hate doing it now. it’s not just me, all of my friends are sick of it too. the only time we get to have fun is when we (rarely) get to work on each other.

i’ve been having a lot of silent panic and anxiety attacks lately and i can’t find the trigger.

my weight has been getting brought up a lot since i returned to normal life after being sick for a month. the weight i lost was not lost in a healthy way. i had become terrified of food and was rarely eating. when i was eating, it was bland foods. my weight and body image have been an issue of mine for almost 10 years. and that’s absurd and upsetting considering i’m turning 20. i don’t like being scared of food and restricting myself so much that i’m not enjoying anything anymore. i want to be able to go to shake shack with my lunch bunch and not worry about repercussions; i refuse to do that to myself again.

acting like i’m okay and forgetting things as a coping mechanism works until you’re crying uncontrollably at 2am and you can’t figure out what’s wrong. you’re just crying because you feel so full and heavy of emotions that you can’t verbalize to anyone without breaking down and fucking up your words. i know that when i’m stressed or anxious, something will hurt physically. my teeth and head have been hurting constantly for almost a week.

it’s like i’ll have the greatest high, the best fucking day ever; but then it comes crashing down so fast you can’t even recognize it’s happening, until you’re left in the rubble of it all.

that’s all i want to say for now. i just want to say thank you to all of you that follow me and show me support and love and kindness. i feel i don’t express that enough. i truly appreciate all of you dolls

[growandrecover]

I really want to recover because I feel like my ed is taking over my life, but I’m not even diagnosed and I’ve told very few people about it. I’m still in high school and recovery feels so impossible. How do I even start?

hey, anon.

You don't have to be diagnosed to recover. I wasn't formally diagnosed, but when I started telling the people who worked at my treatment that I had anorexia, they agreed. Idk what that means for me, but technically I wasn't either, so you're not alone. I was in high school as well when I started recovery, my sophomore year, in fact. I totally understand how it feels. It's mind-bogglingly overwhelming, isn't it?

But you're here, asking me for advice, which is already a huge step! That shows that you want to get better and you understand that your ed is all consuming, which I definitely didn't when I started recovery, so that's incredible. I'm really proud of you.

I know that starting off in recovery seems like it'll take forever, especially when you see people who've been in recovery for years. Trust me, it goes by faster than you think.

If you haven't told your parents/guardian, I'd recommend that be your first step. I know that telling them is probably the hardest "confession" you'll have to make (other than the one to yourself), but it's for your recovery, and hopefully they'll be able to help you.

You can skip this part if you've already told them, but let me brace you: they may have a wildly different reaction than you'd ever expect. My mom, one of the most loving people on the planet (in my opinion), reacted in anger, which I totally didn't see coming. Now I know (because she's told me) that she was angry because I'd been lying to her about my ed, and she was angry that I could do that to myself. My dad, on the other hand, reacted softly, and he was very gentle, which I could have never predicted.

If they're able to help, I recommend going to therapy or trying to get into treatment if you can. If you're able, just a heads up: the sign up process is long. There wasn't a waiting list for mine, but it's just an arduous process in general, so it was a few months before I was actually able to go.

If you're unable to go to treatment or therapy, that's okay. You can still recover. I know some people think they can't recover if they don't go to treatment or therapy, but that's not true. Those things are helpful, but not 100% necessary *in some cases.

I'd recommend that you join groups if you have some in your area, or if you can find some online. We don't have any where I live, but you should look into it. Hearing other people talk about their experiences with eds is a powerful thing in recovery. Especially if you have something else in common. For example, in my treatment group, we were all girls, all about the same age, which was helpful, because we could all relate to each other at least on some level.

If you can't do that, I'd advise that you try to educate yourself about the recovery process so you have some kind of idea on what to do in order to get the most out of it. My therapist told me I should get this book, and if you can, you might want to as well. It's called The 8 Keys to Eating Disorder Recovery by Carolyn Costin and Gwen Schubert Grabb. There's interactive parts and a list of stages so you can go to the chapter you're in. If you're not a reader (then I'm sorry for making this post so long), YouTube has all kinds of helpful videos, like what to expect in recovery based on the ed you have, Kati Morton, who's a licensed therapist, makes great videos about eds, and if I'm not mistaken, I believe she's had one as well. Seeing people in recovery or just starting out helped me a lot. It kept me inspired, and made it seem less daunting.

If you're a TikTok person, there's plenty of videos about recovery, what people are eating, and how they're overcoming certain challenges they put in place for themselves. (I don't have TikTok so I unfortunately can't recommend certain people, but I did see some of their videos in a YouTube compilation lol)

If you're recovering on your own, I'd say that you should try to challenge harmful behaviors you've created (bingeing, counting, measuring, over-exercising, purging, etc). Of course start small, as discontinuation of any of those things will be scary, but you can do it.

I really hope this was helpful to you, and I wish you nothing but the best in your recovery journey. You're doing so well, and I'm so happy for you, love.

If I didn't answer the question fully, or you want to talk, please feel free to submit another ask or send me a message.

Lots of love ♡

[quality-street-rat]

Happy Birthday To Me

Depression rant; I am NOT in danger

All I want to do is die. There are NO treatments for my pain disorders. I’m not sick enough to be in hospital all the time and not well enough to have any sort of job. All I have going for me is my cat and my Netflix. That’s all I got. 

Why do I have to be alive, anyway? What’s so great about it? You’re born, you experience things, you die. It’s not my fault that most of my experiences have hurt me in some way. I’m sick of people telling me “you have so many good things to experience” and “you have so much to live for.”

Bitch! No I don’t! I am alive for two reasons, I promised not to kill myself and I have a cat to take care of. Even though he needs me more than I need him it just wouldn’t feel right to have him go to anyone else.

I keep thinking about loopholes to my promise. If I step in front of a bus or a truck, that’s not suicide, that’s just a traffic accident. If I get mugged by an armed assailant and I beg him to shoot me and he does, that’s not suicide, that’s a random act of violence. If I go antagonize a racist transphobe and they stab me to death, that’s not suicide, that’s a hate crime. I want these statements to be true so bad. No one can Want harder than I can.

But that’s not true, is it. All of those things count as suicide and I know it. And I know what suicide is, it’s stupid, it’s selfish, it’s weak, it’s cowardly. And I am so tired of trying. 

I don’t call the suicide hotlines anymore because what’s the point? All I can do is cry at them. I don’t check myself in to psych wards anymore. The doctors and nurses just ignore how much of a fucking risk I am to myself and send me home knowing I’ll just hurt myself.

And I do hurt myself. I’m tired of lying about it. I’ve only been clean a few weeks andI know I’ll never recover because what is recovery for an addiction, really? You’re just between relapses. But I have to hide it because if I don’t then I’m on the streets. 

Do you know what kind of hell it is to slowly lose your abilities? When it hurts so much to change clothes that you want to scream but you’d rather eat rusty nails than ask for help? Because the minute you ask for help your Uselessness is embedded in stone? And I know I’m Useless. I know that. But if I need people to feed me or dress me then it’s worse, somehow. 

And maybe the day I can’t walk anymore will be the day I kill myself. Maybe the day I just can’t drag myself out of bed anymore is the day I die. Because if death is preferable to the way I live now, how much worse will it be in the future?

I wish I was brave enough to break my promise. I wish I was strong enough to end it all. I wish I was selfish enough to kill this suffering I feel. 

But I’m not. I’m weak. I’m scared. What if the next life I’m born even worse? What if my next body is even less able than this one? 

I’m not going to kill myself. Yet. I don’t even know if it’s on the future’s table. But it’s what I want for my birthday. 

[justtogetthrough]

The failures of doctors never stop amazing me

I hate self diagnosis with a burning passion and yet it’s not until I find stuff online and go to a doctor and am like is this a thing? I read this, does this apply in my case? that doctors are like oh yeah totally that’s a thing. When… doctors should have been the source of that information in the first place if any of them were doing their jobs.

In other news, I have probably destroyed my stomach lining with NSAIDS (taking them was no secret and I included them on every list I’ve ever given a doctor about medications I take daily and occasionally, just like the medication that caused all these problems in the first place, but oooookay) and am now prescribed a PPI to try and calm it down. I’ve been telling doctors I’ve been having abdominal pain and nausea for SO LONG and no one ever checks the patient’s medication list. At LEAST three doctors could have been like oh, constant nausea? Common source: NSAIDS. But instead one doctor just encouraged me to take them with food, knowing I was taking them on an empty stomach every day, a second doctor told me it was probably dehydration, and a third told me I just need treatment for my eating disorder.

This doctor also said I’ve been managing my pain all wrong (“wrong”, all I do is take NSAIDS lol it sounded like most people take other things) and when I told him I’ve tried proper meds but had really bad side effects and couldn’t tolerate them, he said that once my body stabilizes and “if” my adrenal glands resume independent function (I didn’t know they might not, fml), it’s worth trying them again because my body will process meds differently now.

And then I realized I have sooooooo many medications to go back and give second and third chances to now that I don’t have sludge in my veins. I should have connected that after reading about the drug interactions between it and most things I am taking, the primary interaction is it reduces their effectiveness by decreasing the blood concentration of other drugs, but I didn’t even think about all the drugs I’ve tried in the past.

I was already medically complex but this misdiagnosis has added SO many layers and it’s so overwhelming. Getting off this medication and waiting to find out if my body will bounce back is torture. This mistreatment changes everything and all my health problems now need to be re-examined after a while to see if and how they were impacted by long term steroid use. This doctor said for SURE my weight and sleep are the way they are because of it, and he suspects I’ll be able to get off a number of meds I’m currently on as my body stabilizes.

This is absolute hell.

[songofthesibyl]

I know this post is from January, but I’m just seeing it, and I feel compelled to respond.

When I came to these books, I was in a very bad place. Depressed, and anxious all the time, to the point I was unable to eat, or sleep. Disillusioned by bad experiences with several doctors, I was not seeking help, nor did I trust anyone (I’m still not quite there). My self-treatment was writing—like you, it is really the only reason I get up in the morning—and stories. Filling my head with them so I would not have to think. You know, fun—a distraction. And I love Faerie, and the Ballad of Tam Lin, and so thought I would give these books a try because hey, they are popular enough to continually be in print, and maybe the Ballad will be in there in parts, and it will be interesting to see the author’s interpretation of faerie lore. And then. As the saying goes—wherever you go, there you are. I did not want to think of anything, or deal with anything, but the books brought it all up anyway. My anxiety makes me look up endings of books all the time, so—while I had already been spoiled unintentionally by looking up fan art, even before Rhysand was introduced—I had to look up if Tamlin was killed off. And, up to ACOSF, he hasn’t been (though I have my suspicions about the future of the series). Still, I was disappointed that these two awkward and thorny characters would not get the peace and happiness they deserved in the first book. But was hooked, and kept reading, and was able to enjoy the series for what it was. And Tamlin’s ending in ACOWAR was unsatisfying, but it could have been worse.

But always with the knowledge of what lay ahead, and the weight of it on me, and by the end of the original trilogy, my chest hurt, and I cried, for no reason but the knowledge ahead. But I kept reading. It was all there, and gratuitous, and unnecessary, and added nothing to the story. And it was me. Depression, passive suicidal ideation, explosive anger disorder. And it was the real world—“I have depression, I’ve gone through difficult things, but I mastered it, I’m able to function, why can’t you? You’re lazy, and selfish, and want to be miserable, you like wallowing in it.”

It’s your fault you are this way, you did this all to yourself, you deserve it.

You deserve to be miserable forever, to never get better.

Over and over we are told through other characters that he is different, that he alone deserves to rot, that what he did was unforgivable. And I didn’t get it. Nesta climbing is great and all, but I thought to myself, why him? Why he, alone? Why is he, alone, not deserving of healing? And I realized, I could look in the mirror, and say the same things to myself. Why are you not deserving of healing, why do you not deserve some relief? Why do you need the approval, and permission, of others, to feel better, to find a way to be in your body, and not be miserable? And so I didn’t wait for permission anymore. I did what I had to to be able to eat, to be inspired, to want to wake up every day. I didn’t care if some nonexistent person would judge me for it, would look down on me, call me weak. No one else has to be in my body, to get through each day in it. Only me. And so I read, and wrote, and sang, and found strength in green and gold, in elks and foxes, wolves and lions. In the wild, and feral, and thorny, and untamed.

And I don’t care anymore. In short, these books brought me into my villain era.

TW: vent

No, because ACOFAS is genuinely so sadistic in its treatment of Tamlin. I'm actually deep in my depression rn and just all of that, all of those scenes of Rhys being heartless, genuinely sickening. Genuinely.

Listen, I'm probably projecting, but Tamlin is portrayed to have such a deep loneliness and depression (unlike Feyre's whose can be argued to be healed through love) and as someone who's depression doesn't go away for shit, I actually relate to him in this aspect. He's such a comfort character to me. Like I don't even know how to explain.

And I try to like Feyre, I know I did at some point, but like all of sjm's fucking characters, I lose them at some point. I even try to like Rhys. But I love Tamlin. And I actually hate that I'm in a fandom that literally won't treat people with respect over this. I hate that I actually relate more to a character that's actively villainized by the same narrative he was once celebrated in. I hate sjm's shoddy fucking attempts at mental health. I hate that I've come to find out that I both love and hate this series for some godforsaken reason.

In sjm's characterization of Tamlin as a villain she makes such a relatable character to me. And I haven't even gotten into how disgusting this series is sometimes. Everything with Tamlin feels like a desecration of writing, of the care put into writing, of the sacred feeling of creating. Of parading a dark fantasy with makeshift plot and calling it healing. It's a fucking massacre.

And I know that I've never gotten that deep of what writing means to me, it's literally my purpose in life, it's what helps me wake up in the morning. And I don't mean to say people can't write wish fulfillment books but fuck, sjm's books feel like personal fuck you sometimes with mental health.

I wish I could read this series for fun. I wish I could. I wish that I could separate what this book meant to me when I was going through personal shit. Because for all that I hate these books, some part of me loves the characters she's made. The fact that the characters I love in this series are shit on in canon is actually really tragic.

I wish I could look at Papa Archeron and not see a depressed disabled man. I wish I could look at Tamlin and not see my darkest moments. I wish I could like the wish fulfillment story sjm is trying to write.

I most of all, out of everything, I just wish this series acknowledged what it was. It's like, by putting out the message that these books are about abuse, it actively tells people to pay attention. It's about changing my mindset dark fic to hey I want to actually say something to you, and the message sjm says is actually fucking hurtful?

I say this again, because this series had the audacity to tell me to take it seriously only to spit in my face and my actual real life experiences.

Like, I don't know if I'm explaining this well, and I generally never get this heated about a series, but it gets a bit difficult sometimes to act 'professional' in my opinions when this series genuinely upsets me sometimes?? Yknow, like, yeah I'm gonna continue reading it, and I'll probably enjoy it too. But I'm also going to hate it. It's strange and I don't really understand it.

In the end, I feel like I'm reading dark fic (not seriously) when I'm reading it but then it zaps me right back into telling me to take it seriously and I just, it's exhausting sometimes. And tbh, most of this is the fandom.

Excuse my language, but sjm can actually do fuck all at this point, I don't care, but it does matter when this fandom cannot be kind. Like actually pause to think about anon hate. I honestly don't need some stranger calling me an abuse apologist for liking a fictional character after the shit I have actually gone through.

And if you've made it this far into this rant, I'm gonna be fine. I just needed to acknowledge that this series, mostly the fandom, is actually shitty, and I'm sure some other people agree.

[erin-bo-berin]

hey I love ur writing sm!! But i was wondering if you could make a Steve x Reader based on the reader having some sort of eating disorder and Steve just try to help as much as possible even though he doesn't know much about it (I’m really in a shitty mood rn since I’m trying my best to recover from my ED and idk if this could be a way to cope but yeah.) if it’s okay with you!!

Thank you! And I would love to write this. I’ll try to make it a bit vaguer since I don’t want it to be too triggering for you or anyone else. It will also be from Steve’s point of view if that’s okay ☺️

Also, my love and thoughts are with you. I’ve never personally dealt with it, but I do have mental health issues I struggle greatly with. I know that’s not the exact same thing, but I know it’s a hard uphill journey.

That being said, I believe in you, anon. You’ve got this. Don’t let those demons win because you’re stronger than you think. I love you, you can DO this ❤️

One Day At A Time

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of reader suffering from an eating disorder

(If you find you aren’t in the right head space to read this, please if you need to, save it and come back to it when you’re in a better place. I promise I won’t be mad ❤️)

Steve spent an entire weekend at the library doing research.

He wasn’t too familiar with eating disorders, though he’d heard about them. He still felt like shit that he hadn’t even noticed anything wrong with you. He’d been your boyfriend of more than a year and he’d hadn’t noticed anything unusual. What kind of boyfriend did that make him?

Turns out, people learn to hide it well.

You had from him.

It was only until you’d started looking too thin, your clothes hanging off of you that he’d started to worry. The once lively spark in your eyes, the happiness that you always radiated had vanished from your eyes.

He’d had no idea just how hard you were fighting unseen demons.

After the diagnosis, your parents had sent you to treatment and he hadn’t seen you for a month. It was a short stint, peppered with phone calls to each other as he wasn’t allowed to visit. You and he were reuniting today and he’d spent time trying to figure out how to help you.

Obviously, he wasn’t trying to heal you himself, but he wanted to be as supportive as possible. After all, he hurt too seeing you in such pain.

He knew it was going to take time, it was going to be difficult, but he believed in you with his whole heart. But, he was determined that you weren’t going to go through this, alone.

•

The moment you stepped into his arms when you first arrived, he wrapped you in his arms, holding on to you tightly.

Maybe if he kept you safe in his arms, the bad thoughts wouldn’t be able to get to you. How he wished it worked like that.

You looked better, more at peace. You didn’t look tired, beaten down and worn like you had just a month ago. There was color in your cheeks and a small, happy smile one your face.

“I missed you,” you murmured into his chest.

He ran his hand over the back of your head, cradling it, kissing the top of your head. His hand slid down to the back of your neck and he pulled away enough to look down at you.

“I missed you too, Y/N.”

He leaned in to kiss you gently and you returned the gesture, pulling away after a moment, your smile a bit brighter.

He’d offered for you to stay with him for the first little while—if you were comfortable doing so. You’d readily agreed, nervous to be alone in your place. It wasn’t a big deal anyways since you spent most of your time at his place anyway. In actuality, he just wanted you to be close. Not to smother you or watch you like a hawk. He just wanted to be there for you, even in your darkest moments. That’s why he voiced his next thought out loud, just to remind you.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

•

“I’m not hungry,” you’d said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He’d fixed dinner for the both of you, something that was completely healthy and even smelled so good, he was looking forward to it. He’d managed to whip up some lemon pepper chicken, stir fried broccoli and rosemary garlic potatoes.

Nancy would be proud. For all her tough exterior, the girl knew how to cook and she’d helped him in the month you’d been gone.

He had learned that that was just a diversion tactic of your illness, so he didn’t push. He sat the two plates he was holding down on the coffee table in front of you two and sat down next to you.

He wouldn’t push it. He knew better than to be hard on you.

“That’s okay,” he said, “Is it a bad day?”

He’d read enough to know, like with anything, you were going to have your good days and your bad days. You may be on the road to recovery, but recovery wasn’t linear.

You nodded a bit.

“Yeah. It’s been hard today, knowing I was coming home.”

He didn’t talk about the food, didn’t scold you. He just took your hands in his and looked at you, genuinely wanting to know.

“What’s been scaring you about it?”

You let out a deep sigh and his heart clenched. Such a heavy sigh shouldn’t be coming from your beautiful self. He just wanted to wrap you in his arms and never let go.

“I’m afraid I’ll relapse. They said it’s possible at the center,” you said.

“Yes, it is. But you’ll get through that too, I know it. It’s a normal part of recovery,” he said.

You looked at him quizzically, almost amused.

“You almost sound like my new therapist.”

He blushed, looking sheepish.

“Sorry. I spent the entire weekend at the library learning all I could to help you, baby.”

Your look of bewilderment turned to one of awe, a slow smile spreading on your face.

“You did that? For me?”

“Of course I did. I want to be supportive and help you. If you’re having a bad day, I want you to be able to talk to me about it, to lean on me. If you’re having a good day, I want to still hear about it and celebrate that good day. I meant it when I told you that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

You stayed silent for a moment, pulling your hands out of his. You cupped his face in your hands, bringing him down for a kiss, your emotions swirling at how hard he’d prepared to help you, just to be there for you.

Steve watched without a word as you reached for your plate, picking up a piece of the chicken with your fork, bringing it to your mouth.

He tried not to be insulted when you looked at him with widened eyes, shock clear on your face.

“This is amazing, Steve. When did you learn to cook?”

“Nancy taught me,” he shrugged, nonchalantly, “And I’m not that bad of a cook!”

“Babe, you’re usually a pro at burning toast,” you leveled him with a look.

He huffed, pretending to be insulted, but he couldn’t help the grin and laugh that came from him. You were so distracted, you ended up eating a bit more.

“I’m so proud of you,” he smiled, putting his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “For doing all of this for me.”

“Of course,” he paused, rubbing your arm, “You know what we’re going to do?”

“What’s that?” you asked.

“We’re going to take it one day at a time.”