#take this from someone who suffered through anorexia

[varpusvaras]

I just started to think more about the argument of "they are super soldiers, they can't get fat!" regarding the clones, and...

Having no fat retention would be extremely detrimental for soldiers engineered for war.

The body needs energy. It gets it from food, yes, but how likely it is for all the clones to be able to eat regularly the amount of food they need, while doing extremely physically taxing things on the field? The body needs energy. It needs food. What happens when the body does not get food?

It starts to eat itself.

The clones would be losing muscle and be collapsing from exhaustion all over the battlefields, constantly, if they had no fat retention. They would not stay in their bodybuilder-movie star physique for very long.

The reason anorexia is so dangerous is because the body starts to eat itself. It eats the fat, it eats the muscle, it eats the teeth and the organs, it eats the heart. The body eats itself to keep itself alive for a moment longer, which only ends up with it killing itself in the process.

Clones with no fat retention would be the worst soldiers there are.

(Some books have mentions of clones being always hungry and having a fast metabolism. They need to have fat retention in order not to burn themselves to the ground instantly)

[awesomehoggirl]

Here's a rant i have wanted to post since january. 😊 content warnings for this post i am going to be raving about how the nhs treats eating disorder patients. LOL

i am so grateful for the existence of the NHS and so grateful that my experience has actually been a GOOD experience as far as seeking help for mental health problems goes in this dam cuntry. but god this process has been fucking soul crushing and it scares me so bad because i got lucky and hung on and so many others cannot. i was lucky that when i went to my gp in january and did the scariest thing i could possibly imagine and ask for help for my anorexia, i was taken seriously - most likely because i am a young white woman who was already at a severely low weight and therefore fit the 'profile' for restrictive eating disorders. i was lucky to get accepted for treatment at a local outpatient clinic and lucky for it to only take four months to get my first therapy appointment (tomorrow, and actually exactly four months to the day since i first asked for help). and it hurts that four months is lucky because without a shadow of a doubt these four months have been the worst period of my life. worse than when i wasnt set on getting better and was fully lapsed in anorexia. worse because i was strung along waiting for each appointment date and was essentially instructed to 'stay put' - don't get more disordered, per se, but don't get better. worse because every appointment was incredibly triggering and would set me back so far and by the time i did get to the outpatient clinic i was medically unstable enough to be hospitalised (but wasn't). my body was fucking shutting down, and i am one of the lucky ones. every day was absolute fucking torture and i was a complete shell terrified of doing 'too well', getting dropped from the process, and being sent back to square one - more than i was afraid of the way things were getting worse.

and things didnt improve for me when i was admitted there. not that i was expecting them to wave a wand and cure my anorexia but essentially i was given a formal diagnosis, the minimum meal plan with the promise i would have one tailored for my needs asap (has still not appeared - it has been a month) and the promise of regular therapy (ditto) and more details on my treatment to come (ditto). things didnt even marginally improve until i went home for a month and basically let my parents take over and teach me how to take care of myself again. they didnt improve until i picked up books on the biological basics of anorexia and taught myself what the fuck i was even going through. i could have died from refeeding syndrome during the months i was waiting and i would have had no idea what was happening! it makes me insane to think i am one of the lucky ones.

how can a gp look at someone who is dying and tell them to keep doing the thing that is killing them until theyre off a waitlist? i swear to god if any of them had to walk a single day in the shoes of someone suffering anorexia we would have an entire system rehaul because it is actual living hell. and god i haven't even touched on inpatient facilities - i haven't experienced one but the countless stories i've heard from people i've talked to are enough. the idea that shoving meals at someone with a severe mental health problem and discharging them the minute they're 'weight restored' (which is such a wavy idea anyway, and nobody can decide what someone's healthy set point is apart from their own fucking body) is such an insane misunderstanding of the disorder it seems actually stupid. with no work to neurally rewire the fear response to food or body changes they are setting people up for relapse and then deem patients 'treatment resistant' when they do. if i went into the way they look at binge eating and treat patients at higher weights this post would be a million miles long i can't even start lol

when i was on the bus to one of the appointments i was googling the outpatient clinic id been referred to and found the case of a girl previously in her care who went to the same uni as me, did the same course as me, was the same age as me, and unfortunately passed in her dorm room due to complications of her disorder which were not flagged because of negligence. she 'seemed fine' one week and was gone the next. i sat there on the bus and didnt even cry because i was too exhausted and sick, but i've cried over her since. i just think people with eating disorders are so misunderstood and the treatment is so wrong and needs to be rehauled so badly. i'm angry for that girl who died across the street from the doctor's office where i sat and was told to stay put in my disorder, wait it out, wait for help which just doesn't seem like it's coming at this point.

if any positive has come from my drive to fight for myself has never been stronger. all i want in the world is to go to america in august and even if my family and gp don't believe i'll be well in time, i believe in myself. i am proud of myself and scared for myself and angry for myself. for all the awfulness i have grown so much as a person and learned a lot about myself. it feels surreal to post about anorexia on my blog because it is so deeply shameful to me and something i have struggled with on and off quietly for years, but i am going to fucking get out of this and go to america and have the most awesome time. also tomorrow i am going to have a pastry at a cafe with my mum and yes i am terrified but i am also excited because it will be yummy. fuck eating disorders and fuck ummmm waitlists or whatever

[midwestvalleygirl-moved]

i have literally been inflicted with various eating disorders because i grew up as a fat child and these skinny people wanna act like i don’t understand how eating disorders work just because im fat. because i obviously havent “suffered” enough, or maybe i just wasn’t “good” enough at starving myself because i didn’t have anorexia for “long enough”, because i didn’t look like a typical anorexic person. and especially because i make eating disorders “too political” by pointing out that these people refuse to acknowledge that EDs stem from literal fatphobia and the fear of looking like me.

sorry if thats a hard pill for some of yall to swallow but eating disorders do stem from fatphobia and the only way to truly recover from them is to start viewing fat people as PEOPLE who deserve love and respect no matter their size, no matter if they eat too much or talk too much about food or if their fatness and fat rolls and jiggly bellies “disturbs” you. better yet, it’s learning to respect fat people even if you viscerally hate them. it’s learning to listen to them talk about their experiences and digesting what that means for you, a skinny person, and how you have taken part in systemic fatphobia.

i understand eating disorders are very mentally destructive — i understand that on a very intimate level as a fat woman — but do you not understand how destructive it is for someone like me, who has been fat since birth and all of my 23 years of living, to acquaint myself with people whose literal worse fear is looking like me? who polices how they themselves eat and make me feel shame for eating a “larger” portion size? who view fatness and even the word “fat” as a negative thing? why should i subject myself to a personal relationship that treats me as Other because of something as unchangable as my weight when i already get enough shit from society for the way i act, the way i dress, the way i eat. why would i subject myself to that further through “friends” who would rather starve themselves than have a bmi higher than 25? why would i have a friend who gets uncomfortable when i talk about the fatphobia i experience, all because i dont put padding around every word, because i dont reassure them that “you’re one of the good ones” and “dont worry, i know you dont hate fat people” and “i dont think all skinny people or people with EDs think this way, don’t worry, i love you”.

there is no other explanation for why my experience with eating disorders is not taken seriously besides cruel fatphobia. my commentary on eating disorders is too “political” and “mean” because i believe the only way to tackle them is by looking at the root of the problem, which is the hatred of fat bodies. because i believe one must confront societal and interpersonal fatphobia before recovery can truly take place. give me a break. don’t claim to love and support fat people if you deny my experience and frame me as someone who “just doesn’t understand” and “isn’t the best person to talk about eating disorders with”. sorry i call you out on your fatphobic bullshit and that it hurts your feelings. except i’m not sorry, at all, not even a little bit.

if you can deny me my hellish experience with eating disorders because i am fat and believe in fat liberation, i can and will deny you of your supposed “love and acceptance” of fat people. because you know deep in your heart that you are lying and don’t actually care.

[rabiesofficial]

I think there is a considerable difference in the amount of people with anorexia, anorexia nervosa than obese people. So can be a matter of costs and numbers. There are way more fat and obese people.

Also, - understanding that eating disorders are mental illness - it takes dissipline, effort, work to be extremely thin, and the contrary to be obese. Because of this we can assume, from a mental wiring point of view certain attributes obese people or fat people share like laziness, glutonny, lack of goals and so and so.

Finally, I know it's not everyone, and beauty standards change all the time, and it's not good that the current one is often extreme thinness (which has changed through the years thankfully) but fat people just often look bad. You have to be well formed, fat well distributed or whatever to be perceived as kind of good looking, your features get lost in fat, you sweat more, what's inside those rolls? It's kinda sad to see you struggle to walk, take a seat, get dressed. It's just looks painfully kinda pathetic kinda just straight bad. Which, in an extreme case can also be said and or perceived on the contrary condition like an extremely ill anorexic person tho.

Sometimes I’ll see an artist getting hate and it’s so clear the person wants to cancel them because they have personal beef with them, but the artist doesn’t even know they exist.

It’s like, okay so people see fat women and start to get up in their own feelings, being disgusted. What about it? Can you not cope on your own? You see a woman struggling to move because of mental health problems, she chose to overeat instead of starve, and now it’s okay to think of her as pathetic?

You saw someone who was suffering and chose gluttony over “self-discipline*” and deemed her worthy of less empathy?

And I understand that the costs are an issue to some people, but fundamentally I do not agree with this point. I think we should be spending more. On everyone, in healthcare. We need to spend more on getting our foods regulated. On creating infrastructure for kids to go out and play. On reinventing our schools to give kids a mix of play and education. On mental health services. On exit and abuse services because yes, SO many women are forced into feederism by abusive partners, or gain weight after abuse. On actually phone-free gyms so my friends actually trying to lose weight don’t have to worry about being recorded again. These are all different issues that would take work and effort in different areas of society, but ultimately the reasons people are fat differ, but you’ll never learn them if all you see is fat.

* not to be a hater but self-disciplined is a horrible way to describe someone with anorexia, that only encourages the disorder. It’s not discipline when women are literally dying, fighting with themselves to eat. That’s torture, not discipline. If society thinks this way then shouldn’t it be up to us to fight against that instead of reinforcing it?

[fuck-your-proana-blog]

Hi,

I’m really happy to come across your page and bringing awareness and learning your bio pinned up.

I came across one of your posts talking about pro-ana. I had an account on here around 2016, and I remember getting messages from a girl who was about 2 years younger than me. She asked me if I could help her starve herself to reach her goal. But I refused and told her she shouldn’t be doing this. She didn’t like the response I gave and started calling me fake and many hateful words. So after that, I decided to delete my Tumblr account because you never know who seeing these posts, especially someone super young. I’ve never in my life would want to help someone go through the same struggle I went through.

I’ve been though recovery for about 5-years now, although it’s been 5 years and going through treatments and group therapy. While I was there, I thought my ed would go away and I would forget about it. I’ve realize we can’t burn those memories and till this day I still struggle with my ed thoughts. But what I can do is not let those thoughts fuck with me again.

I'm now back on Tumblr after a long time and now posting and reposting this for the better and things I'm interested in!

Again, thank you for spreading awareness and I'm so proud that you are here now ❤️

Thank you for this kind message; when I had a pro ana blog I thought I wasn't harming anyone but myself because I didn't use tags and stuff like that; never posted body checks or calorie counts/exercise routines, "ana diets," etc, but one day a 15 year old follower of mine asked me to be her "ana buddy" because I reached such a low "goal weight" and she wanted to be as thin as me. I cried my ass off, hating that me and my blog made other people suffer because of my ignorance to the harm I was doing. I told her to get help and deleted my blog the same day(back in 2011). I then started my main blog and anti pro ana blog, which feature my struggles throughout the years in a non-promotional way while encouraging recovery to everyone. I've been in and out in recovery since 2012. You're right- the thoughts never really go away. I'm working with my psychiatrist, trauma therapist, and a full team of varied physical doctors and treatments to try and get my mind and body in a better place since 13 years of Anorexia has caused me so much harm. That's why I call out pro anas and report when I can, because even if they don't use tags or suggest starving to others it's still harmful for other to come across, especially young people because the algorithm will promote your blog to others even if you don't. There used to be a much bigger "anti pro ana community" on here, but most have left- I'm hoping because they're taking better care of themselves. Taking a break from Tumblr when you used it to fuel your ED is always a good idea on recovery, especially at first. I'm proud of you too; keep up the great work!

[burning-sol]

You know, I've always felt that the discussion around CWs for food was a bit strange because, "food is everywhere, how do you avoid FOOD, you need to get over it," is weird when you remember that literally anything could be triggering and it's not your place to tell someone to get over their issues just because you personally don't understand it. But I was too cowardly to bring it up because it's one of those opinions that make me worry I'm going to lose the respect of people I know.

I looked up discussions of it and read through the comments of reddit posts and it was very easy to find people with valid reasons to be triggered, including two instances where the person in question struggled with binging which is its own eating disorder and a part of bulimia nervosa. Someone else just found it gross and has misophonia, which is also a valid reason for wanting a content warning I think. There's plenty of reasons people could want a content warning for food other than being the stock character of anorexia.. Who, if we're being real, is not going to be FIXED because you made the oh so bold decision not to put a cw for food. Like, at worst you could definitely trigger some sort of negative reaction from a pwAnorexia you didn't forsee happening, and you will likely never know about because people don't tend to make a habit of discussing all their issues online.

Like, yeah, maybe some people find the content warning itself to induce negative thoughts, but what makes THAT group take priority over the other? What does it say about you that you're inadvertently siding with the Right who likes to argue and poke fun with the argument, "you can't put a content warning on EVERYTHING, that would be ridiculous!! There are no content warnings in real life!"

People also just make a lot of conflation between the online and offline world like... "Well if you see it in real life, you shouldn't need a comment warning online," when the two are completely different contexts. Even just in framing, food in real life isn't inherently framed to look appealing unless purposefully displayed that way, whereas the majority of photos of food are made to be tantalising and trigger a completely different reaction. We don't have offline equivalents of cooking content (TV broadcasts of cooking are even MORE easily avoidable than those online) or of mukbangs in our daily lives. Food online is an entirely different kind of way of interacting with it than in your offline life.

And people DO get triggered offline by things by the by, people DO struggle in their offline lives, and maybe they just prefer to have control over their online lives where it's possible to have accommodations. One time I was out with friends, and obviously I didn't have a content warning for mirrors in real life, nor do I ask for one, but it still severely freaked me out to see a mirror and I was cowering away from any reflection I COULD. I would much prefer NOT to have mirrors all over my house except for certain designated spaces, but I can't change that due to my circumstances, so I just quietly suffer. And it's not that I don't WANT to get over my fear, it's that there's NO possible way to get over that fear if I don't have a support network to help with exposure therapy; because the key to exposure therapy is that you make the patient feel in control and safe and you expose them to whatever they're scared of in amounts that they can handle. You are not a professional, you are a rando on the internet.

Maybe we shouldn't have to keep circling back to the, "you don't have a right to talk over people with triggers," thing just because of the superficial change as to WHAT thing is being trigger tagged. I trust people to know what they want tagged. This shouldn't be a hot take amongst leftists. You shouldn't find some kind subconscious, righteous enjoyment in flaunting that you don't get triggered by something that others do. Please.

[romanarose]

Vengo a Cantarle a Mi Amada

A Leather and Lace Bonus Chapter

Santina Garcia x Lacina Dumas

Can be read separately tbh, its just fucking soft, Laci is someon that Santi rescued from sex trafficking

Warnings: References to sex trafficking, rape, lifelong abuse, forced pregnancy in theory, starvations, mentions of anorexia and loss of ones period. Santi's just a big ole softie.

Summary: Takes place after Santi and Laci get back to the motel, before the morning when Santi brings her to the authorities.

*************

Laci sat on the edge of the bed fighting bad tears and the shakes as she attempted to comb the mess that was her hair, knotted and matted and dirty still, despite the shower. It wasn’t like she didn’t brush her hair the whole time she was taken, it wasn’t like she spend the entire year in the basement. The men who bought her paid good money, it wasn’t like she was some girl they had kidnapped from a village to rape for a few days, no, the women that were paid for were generally had a modicum of amenities. They didn’t want your teeth falling out, so you had a tooth brush. They wanted you looking nice, so you got showers and things for personal appearance. They’d want to keep you until you were no longer pretty and young, might accidentally kill or do it in a fit of rage, but in general you were meant for longer term. Some girls were meant for breeding, to give men their sons and heirs, but the starvation they put Laci through caused her to lose her period; there was no longer a need to worry about that.

 Laci had survived this long out of sheer complacency. Everything she had experienced long before being taken had her beaten down emotionally to the point that she was easy to break, and the men had told her as much, mocking her for how she simply gave in… but there wasn’t much fight left in her. Things had escalated recently, the violence she was subjected to growing, and they seemed to enjoy making her suffer more than anything… she had been in that basement a few days, and she knew they’d be torturing her more and more and that she probably wouldn’t make it out alive.

Then she opened her eyes and saw Santi, and god, did he scare the ever living fuck out of her, as did Frankie with his gun. She couldn’t have known, she couldn’t have any idea that Santi was there to save her, that he would protect her these next few days and bring her to safety. Here in the hotel, she was still nervous, still scared; being in a room alone with 4 men only ever spelled trouble since back in college… but Santi was there, Santi would keep her safe… Benny seemed nice too, anticipating her needs and giving her clothes, allowing her to shower and giving her the comb she was using right now with her shaking hand. Frankie and Will seemed unhappy with her, but at least Frankie would look at her; it was clear Will didn’t like her, he was angry at her, but she couldn’t figure out why… Laci quickly figured out Will was Benny’s older brother, the pair looked similar, but also how Will hovered, asking question after question about his injury, constantly poking around his wound until Benny smacked his hands away. Definitely siblings. 

“Hey” Santi’s voice broke her from her thoughts, gently touching her wavering hand. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

Laci gave him a sympathetic look, one she hoped expressed apology… why couldn’t she talk? This had happened before, growing up and into adulthood, but it was rare and only when her anxiety was high enough, when all the sounds and feelings and emotions and touch were too fucking much… had this year just broken her? Would she ever be back to her usual self… well, her usual self wasn’t something she was exactly proud of either. 

“Can I… can i help you?” Santi asked, and Laci finally looked at him. She was starting to realize that eye contact with Santi wouldn’t result in a deafening slap… Santi was different, Santi was gentle…

Laci nodded, handing the comb to Santi. He sat against the headboard of the bed and to her own surprise, she scooted back to sit between his legs… Something about Santi’s presence was warm and comforting, a feeling of home she hadn’t truly felt since childhood. 

Santiago still felt his head spinning from the last 30 or so hours Laci was far from the first trafficking victim they’d come across, but in general they had been in brothels, or in bedrooms, none had been this close to death as Laci had been, so thin he was reminded of the girl from high school with anorexia, her skin nearly gray and blood covering her face; it was a miracle they found her when they did. Santi guessed she wouldn't have lasted more than a few more days.

Her hair was a mess, and as he watched her shuttering figure attempt to comb through it, he couldn’t help offer to comb it for her. What he didn’t expect was for her to so readily get so close to him on a bed. It seemed that with everything they had gone through together, he had earned her trust. He wanted to do right by her, and he was starting with getting through her hair without hurting her too much… that was not working out. His heart tugged everytime he pulled to hard and she visibly winced, no doubt good at keeping her pain quiet after this long.

Frankie spoke up. “Start at the bottom, work your way up” he instructed. Frankie had a daughter and, up until last year, a long term girlfriend so he no doubt had experience combing and brushing. Frankie was a doting father and loving partner when he wasn't high.

“Thank you, Fish”

“Here” Benny handed him a small travel bottle. “It’s conditioner, should help detangle.” Benny was the only one who had any semblance of hair care beyond 3 in 1 champion conditioner body wash

“Thank you, Ben” Santi said, applying conditioner to a matted chunk he was trying to work on. He tried so hard to be careful, but Santi was not someone who knew anything about domesticity, he never stayed with a woman long enough, he felt like gentleness was so far out of his depth…

Will, laying on the bed, being a grump, spoke up. “Hold the hair near the knot, not the scalp, that way it’ll pull less” Was the advice he offered, despite his annoyance at the two on the bed.

“Thank you, Ironhead.” Santi spoke sincerely and with the help and advice from his friends, he worked out the matts and began combing out the rest of the hair. It was then that Laci began crying, the first time he had seen this from her. “Munequita, what’s wrong? Do you want me to move?” Santi worried his touch in her on the bed might have triggered her.

Laci shook her head, reaching to grab the note pad and pencil on the night stand, scribbling a few words. ‘It’s over.’ and boldly, she leaned back against Santi’s chest. He wrapped his arms carefully around her.

“It’s over, Lacina. Let it out, you’re safe now, no one can hurt you anymore” Santiago would make sure of it. No one would hurt her again.

And she did, she let it out, relief flowing through her as it finally sunk it; she was safe.

Santi continued to comb her hair even as it was knot-free as it seemed to sooth her, syncing the words to a Guatemalan song he knew from his mother.

Calles bañadas de luna

que fueron la cuna de mi juventud,

vengo a cantarle a mi amada,

la luna plateada de mi Xelajú.

Finally, for the first time since high school.

Lacina Marie Dumas was safe in Santiago Garcia's arms.

**************

Took a break from writing my paper to write this bc I was feeling super fucking soft this morning ;-;

Back to the worlds most complicated paper topic. At least it's interesting!

@littlenosoul @bensolosbluesaber @milkymoon2483 @gogh-with-the-flow @itspdameronthings @trinkets01 @p0edameronswife @welcometostayingawake @spxctorsslxt @username21mk @luciannadraven33 @sgt-morgan @xaestheticalien @howaboutcastiel @soapjay @miraclesabound @thepowerthismanhasoverme

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

Hi! I wanted to ask for advice on how to deal with extreme emotions controlling how much I eat or don't eat?

Something I wanted to clarify is that when I don't eat, I'm not starving myself on purpose, but when I do eat, I am purposely binging.

For a long time I lost weight thanks to being too anxious to eat. I would throw up during anxiety attacks, and lose my appetite for weeks during periods of stress. I was severely underweight and many doctors assumed I was dealing with anorexia simply based off my weight, even after I explained I wasn't losing weight on purpose and just had extreme anxiety affecting my eating habits and making me throw up.

Nowadays, my depression is a lot stronger than my anxiety. (I am dealing with grief from multiple deaths in the family, I'm disabled, and because of my life circumstances, it's very unlikely that I'll ever be able to live independently or work outside of home)

While anxiety makes me throw up or lose my appetite for food, depression does the opposite. I binge eat out of depression. I feel bored and aimless all day so I try to fix it by overeating, and I don't feel like a normal person when I eat. I plan out my binge sessions and consume way more food than what's healthy for me, even to the point where I physically feel sick from the bloating, or from eating foods that I'm sensitive to since I suffer from GI issues. I don't feel full after I finish binging, and it's starting to become very disruptive.

On the one hand I'm glad that I have an appetite and that I'm not at an unhealthy low weight anymore but I realize that what I'm doing now isn't an ideal coping mechanism, either. I'm having a lot of trouble coping, I don't have a doctor who I see regularly, and I can feel myself spiraling out of control. How do I learn how to eat normally?

Hm. This is such a complex situation. Chronic health conditions can be so difficult in these situations. If you're able to access counseling, I'd say start the process of finding a counselor who's a good fit for you. This will be someone who can guide you with a tailor-made plan just for you, and can adapt it at every step of the way. If you get someone who has expertise in eating disorder recovery, they might know about some of the health issues you ought to work on addressing. If you can get a new doctor, I absolutely would. The root issue here seems to be the stress vomiting, and you absolutely need professionals who will listen to you and take that issue seriously. Both a primary care provider and a mental health counselor might be good resources for helping you take on a multipronged approach to that problem. I'm so sorry you had to experience a doctor who wouldn't listen to you.

I understand your need to binge while you feel able to eat to get your body weight up. Do be aware that by prolonging this pattern, you may be ingraining the binge-restrict pattern more deeply into your body and mind. This is typically a pattern with people who are trying to restrict deliberately, as their bodies get more and more desperate and then when they do allow themselves to eat, they get out of control. It sounds like your body is creating a similar response because when you're depressed it knows you can reliably keep food down. But unfortunately ingraining this cycle into your body may cause long-term health issues too.

It must be so tempting to continue the cycle of overeating since it seems like a way to kill two birds with one stone. It balances out the times you can't keep food down and regulates your weight, and the dopamine from the binge gives you an easy boost out of the depression. But binge eating isn't a depression cure, especially not as it sinks into a pattern, and you said yourself you've noticed you include eating foods that make you feel crappy because you literally don't care. This is not helping you fix your relationship with food, I'm guessing. And it also won't help you learn to work through depression in a healthy way. Doctors and counselors might be able to help you with that and anxiety too, which I bet would help your relationship with food as well.

For the short term, do what keeps you alive and keep eating what you can when you can. But make sure you immediately prioritize accessing resources that will help you to break this cycle. If you're not finding the right doctors or counselors, switch. I know it's hard. I know it's a daunting process. But you've got to invest in you if you can. Be compassionate with yourself if you have setbacks, because it sounds like life has really been walloping you with obstacles and you've got to keep in mind that no one copes perfectly with circumstances like that. I hope things get better for you in spite of the many obstacles that have been thrown your way.

[omegaremix]

Pandemic Blues (Summer).

At the tail end of Spring, I posted Merzbow’s Pulse Demon here on my sister site. I noticed that someone from the New York City / Long Island area liked it and I decided to see who she was.

Hesitation marks. Satanist. Anorexia. Borderline Personality Disorder. Medications. Has an OnlyFans account. Topless Shibari pics- of herself. Too-much-information posts about cream-pies and wanting to fuck some random guy she met who ended up abandoning her to get high with his friends. Wow. For most people, there’s so many red flags waved to say “no” the first time and move on. Amazingly, the t.m.i. - not the self-abuse, Satanism, or BPD - had me say “no”, too, until I found her other page which showed a more leveled side to her. Posts relating to her anxiety and depression issues. The color pink. Cute Japanese cartoon animals, Animal Crossing, and owns animals herself. Her paleness laying on the backyard grass with her long dark flowing hair down her neck and skinny wrists across her purple tee holding her pet rabbit. I re-considered because I empathized and related with some of what she suffered through. It’s May, and if I don’t take it now then I may not have it later. So hand me the dice and let’s fucking roll.

Ruth* posted about doing your 100% in a relationship and I checked it off. A few moments later, she caught me posting something of mine I took from the neighborhood veteran’s park. She messaged me to ask if that’s where I got it from. We finally reached out to each other. Lo and behold…she’s from the very same town I am! In fact, we’ve crossed paths before in that same park on one warm Wednesday before sundown, but we didn’t realize it was each other until after the fact. She’s into darkwave, some noise, the post-punk / d.i.y. aesthetic, noise rock, and introduced me to The Mountain Goats. Overtime she’s disclosed her use of LSD, acid, and getting blackout drunk as coping mechanisms of years-long bullying and social isolation. One story she told me was when she approached Jamie Stewart (Xiu Xiu) after his Brooklyn Bazaar performance and ended up telling him her life story. Fortunately, no heroin. She’s stayed away from it as half of her friends she’s ever known have perished from it. But most importantly as mental health sufferers we also matched on our worlds of hurt, our worries of opening up and having doors shut in our faces, text anxiety, and remembering that last time we felt excited about something.

At times I was on edge because I’d assume the worst if I didn’t get her texts that night or seen her posting and ignoring me. Not so. We kept in close contact. Intense texting during off-days and breaks, in parking lots and even me laying in the emergency room two days before we met. She’d finally disclosed her Satanist practices which her ma’ hated (no animals sacrificed) and her nudes which she feared would lose my approval. No judgment. She didn’t send me any, just a bathroom selfie of her 5’7” Polish-Jewish self with black curly hair, pouty lips, and large-rimmed glasses. The concepts of re-assurance and honesty made me chance it and open up to her that I’d never did with anyone else that quickly…despite her somewhat shy shortcomings. I was feeling euphoric once again. I now had someone I’d fight for. She was unique and could give me most of what I was looking for in a female.

I saw her post occasional suicidal thoughts and had to intervene on sight, taking no chances. But Ruth assured me everything was OK and were just that - thoughts. On a happier note, she lamented on how she missed riding her bicycle because of how nice her butt looks. She got points for that one. The moment she felt sad about not being at the beach, I went for it and asked to take her. “Sure!” she said. Boxcars! To hear her say that made me feel so fucking good. It meant everything to me. With minimal worry, we were on our way in meeting each other soon.

I absorbed the June moment sitting in my backyard against the fence under the trees, the stars, the moon, and the dark blue night skies. Personal tranquility, promise, and hope segued into something good while the nation was burning from all the civil unrest and pandemic restlessness. Violence, protests, and scorching fires were born from George Floyd’s murder by the police. People none more fed up than ever in lockdown lost their jobs and their livelihoods by witnessing the collapse of their favorite pastimes, venues, and restaurants. All the while an enablist president with a lust for dictatorship, hate, and murdering democracy dead was steering this country towards a fascist state to the point of no return.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday’s here. I wake up, I shower, and have a light breakfast. Fresh clothes are ready to be worn. Buzz, brush, and razor. Take the phone out of its case and polish it up. Wash the car and vacuum it because who knows what type of person she is. 3PM came and I got her text. Ruth and her ma’ were in the neighborhood tending to an injured animal. She gave me her address and told me to be there at 4PM. I’m on my way.

It’s a breezy but silvery day. The weather is in a drab mood, but not enough to tarnish my excitement. Ten minutes, three miles, and some narrow wooded roads east later, I arrive at her house - and it’s about to fall apart. The slightest flick of the match would burn it all down. There’s tin statues of mini-animals and mossy bird fountains all over the place to pony up the storybook charm. No sight of her 20 cats, her bunny, or bird. It’s been five minutes waiting for her to come out. Lord knows what she’s doing but it felt special that’s she putting the finishing touches on herself for me. The front door opens and here comes Ruth. I was very happy how she turned out. Green and white-striped tee, a denim overall mini-skirt and torn black hosiery with rainbow specks and black boots. This is the same girl who’s been posting lewds and Japanese schoolgirl uniform shots? You would never ever know it by looking at her. It’s Irma Langenstein with social media accounts and that 2010′s online edge but she’s still got that weirdness. We trade hellos and smiles, got in the car, and rode west on the service road to the south shore through the salt-and-peppered day.

I was so nervous with her that I couldn’t even form a complete sentence. I felt like I owed her an apology for stepping over some personal boundaries in getting privy about feelings and her hedonistic side. The soft-spoken nerd assured me that everything was OK. The more we spoke, the more things smoothed out and relaxed themselves. We slowly drove as she explained to me about her BPD and gradually went into her interests before we arrived at Gardiner Manor Park.

We cut through the wooden trails to reach the shoreline and walked on the sands, walking by the sea ribbons, discarded shells, and old aquatic artifacts. It was where she told me she attended the same university as I and had friends at the radio station. Who does she know? J-Ro. Everyone knows J-Ro. They’ve worked together at the organic supermarket. What did she get him for last year’s Secret Santa? Sacred Bones’ Killed By Deathrock. Wow, she knows what’s up. We backtracked through the woods where she opted for the long way out and worked out because I wanted my money’s worth. She saw me constantly being pinched by the mosquitoes, and kind enough of her to actually care and hose me down with her organic citrus repellent.

We had time after showing each other our SE’s to drive to Argyle Park still under the cool cloudy skies. We circled twice around the large duck pond dodging both the goose smears on the asphalt and people fishing off the elevated walkways, aiming to fill the air with nothing-talk to make up for the awkward silences between us. My mind’s racing, my breathing heavy, and my pace almost couldn’t keep up with this quick little walker. I’m exhausted, she’s exhausted, and so was whatever daylight Wednesday had left. It’s 7PM. Time to drive the mouse home.

One amusing point of our day was while driving back east on Main st. we heard screetching behind us. I look up and there’s a group of people on the sidewalk looking over to see what just happened. In my rear-view I saw an SUV that blew a light penetrated into a parked car. Ruth and I slowed down and looked at each other mortified to our chests. Had we been 5-10 seconds slower, we might’ve been casualties. We still drove north towards her house, up Railroad Ave. and past what used to be the old Vinyl Paradise which was now George’s Vintage Clothing & Records.

I’m with a woman whose Williamsburg-mind would fit more in the city than on the island. Ruth had many friends to rely on in case of shelter and recently celebrated with a close friend who found an apartment in Queens, while she just returned from a winter job in Denver and came home with no car, no job, and no money in the bank. I wasn’t fazed at all. Along the way she’s disclosed to me that she’s had ten straight years of relationships lasting from five months to two years with at most four-month gaps of being single in-between. She’s been undefeated in the break-up department because she gets sick of them. All of them. No reason needed.

We pull up in front of her house. We have our final smiles and say our goodbyes to each other. I see her walk in through the front door and I slowly drive away. I arrive home and came down sad that our day ended. It shouldn’t have. With my luck, a day like this should’ve never happened, but somehow it did. And now I’m wrapping my head around it. I take off my black shirt. The aura of her citrus repellent overlapping mine of basil, black pepper, and cedar on fresh woven cotton lingered on for what would forever burn in my mind of our day together. I had a great time with someone who was on my level and wasn’t like anyone else from the island. That was capped off when I just got a happy positive text from Ruth: she had a great time, and it was nice meeting me.

(Full story.)

Chasms: “Tears In The Morning Sun”

Zunz: “Four Women And Darkness”

Snarls: “What’s It Take”

Girl In Red: “Rushed Lovers”

DJ 3D: “How Many Ways” (Refreshers RMX)

Tops: “Seven Minutes”

Widowspeak: “Breadwinner”

Ripple: “Victorious”

Jade Imagine: “Big Old House”

Space Above: “Stolen Days”

Tempers: “Capital Pains”

Grimes & i_O: “Violence”

Weeknd, The: “Blinding Lights”

Charli XCX & Sky Ferreira: “Cross You Out”

RVG: “I Used To Love You”

Wye Oak: “Fortune”

Eddie Russ: “Zaius”

Progeny: “Wet Dreams”

Low Key Crush: “Shelter”

Cigarettes After Sex: “Young And Dumb”

Pink Gloves: “Wilderness”

Serfs, The: “Persona Non Grata”

Emma Ruth Rundle: “The Light Song”

Chvrches: “Forever”

Hit Parade, The: “Harvey”

Parrot Dream: “The Best”

Mr. Elevator: “Down”

Empathy Test: “Monsters”

In A Dramatic Gesture: “Basic Aerobic”

Masta Ace & Marco Polo ft. Smif N’ Wesson: “Breukelen Brooklyn”

Jade Imagine: “Remote Control”

Parlor Walls: “Lunchbox”

Look Blue Go Purple: “Grace”

Mountain Goats, The: various songs

[thisgirllovespasta]

My Background and Analysis

Okay girlies, it's finally time for me to tell my story.

I first discovered Tumblr in 2011 when I was 9 years old. The original reason I was even on the internet to begin with was because one of my best friends introduced me to the world of Webkinz YouTube (Webkinz as in the stuffed animals, YouTube as in the video website, Webkinz Youtube as in pre-teen girls making YouTube videos about their Webkinz. It was my whole life back then) and a huge thing within the "KinzTube" community was making aesthetically pleasing Tumblrs and following each other on there. It was harmless and fun for a while, until one day I stumbled upon the pro-ana community.

I don't remember how I got there, though I do know it wasn't intentional. All I remember was my 9 year old eyes scanning the screen and taking in the thigh gaps, sunken in eyes, and prominent collarbones. I remember feeling sick from this, and closing the tab with immense guilt.

That was all for a while. I never ventured to pro-ana land for a long time after that. Unfortunately, despite this, my mind was permanently scarred with the images I had seen. After that fateful day, not an hour went by that I didn't think about my body, and the bodies of the girls I had seen on Tumblr. However, I did not adopt any disordered eating habits or behaviours for a few more years. I remained an avid Tumblr user, but I avoided pro-ana land like the plague.

Fast forward a few years to 2014: eighth grade, 12 years old. I have a distinct memory of being in the bathroom at my beloved Nan's house and noticing a stack of 'Prevention' magazines on the top of the toilet. I began to scan through the stack, reading the headlines on the covers: "tips to lose weight and keep it off!", "surefire diets for a slim waist!", "exercises to burn fat fast!", amongst other grabby catchphrases (see below for an example).

Reading through these magazines lit a fire within me that had been threatening to ignite since the very first time I laid eyes on "thinspo". I grabbed as many magazines as my little hands could carry, brought them into my bedroom, and spent hours reading about "moves that slim".

From that moment on, the fire within me burned bright and strong.

I cannot recall a singular moment since that day where I have not been consumed by my eating disorder.

When I was 15, my girlfriend at the time (who suffered from anorexia as well) brought up to me that they were worried about me and thought I had anorexia, to which I replied, "I am definitely not sick, I'm literally eating Subway right now!"

I was formally diagnosed at 16 by a psychiatrist that my school guidance counsellor practically begged me to visit. My mom had a session with the psychiatrist first, and told her about all the concerns she had regarding my eating, to which I responded "I don't have an eating disorder, I eat candy all the time!" The psychiatrist and my mom didn't accept my lies, and I was told that I had anorexia nervosa. My mom told my favourite teacher this, and I was monitored during lunch to make sure I was eating. This was much to my chagrin because my go-to was to "eat lunch" in the bathroom alone.

I had no intention of getting better until I was 18. I spent all of high school revelling in my disease. I loved it. My anorexia was like an old friend to me. She was someone who I could always count on, someone who made me feel completely in control, someone who made me feel proud and satisfied.

I lost my pre-teen years to my anorexia. I lost my teenage years to anorexia. And I am trying with every fibre of my being not to lose my young adult years to anorexia too.

And do you want to know why it was so easy for me to lose myself in my disease? Because ED culture is EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK!

A show I watched religiously since age 12, Modern Family, is a perfect example of how ED culture is perpetuated by television shows. There are so many examples of one of the main characters, Haley, casually bringing up ED behaviours, and absolutely nothing coming from it.

In season 4 episode 11, Haley says "my whole life is a hunger game, why do you think I'm so mean to you all the time?" is a quote engrained in my memory from this show.

Haley is portrayed as the young, hot, popular girl. Basically everything I ever wanted to be as a young person. A key element to her character is her eating disorder, though it is never actually named or talked about other than in the form of jokes.

Another example is my absolute favourite show of all time, Schitt's Creek. The character, Alexis, is much like Haley; framed as the hot, fashionable, bimbo. In season 2 episode 6, she orders a piece of chocolate cake at the cafe, to which Twla, the waitress replies, "I'm just not used to you ordering solid food".

These are just two examples of countless scenarios in which TV show characters have disordered eating habits that are glossed over and used as comic relief.

Myself as well as so many other people from my generation were socialized into a world that treated women with such disregard, no wonder so many of us ended up anorexic.

In reflecting on my journey through the tumultuous landscape of eating disorder culture, it becomes evident that the seeds of my struggle were sown long before I even realized it. Each step of my journey was shaped by the strong influence of societal narratives about body image and beauty standards.

As I grappled with my own demons, I couldn't help but notice how casually eating disorder behaviours were portrayed in popular media, reinforcing harmful stereotypes and trivializing the severity of these illnesses. It's clear that our society has been socialized into a culture that places thinness and perfection above all else, often at the expense of our mental and physical well-beings.

But amidst the darkness, there is also hope. By sharing our stories and shedding light on the insidious nature of eating disorder culture, we can challenge the status quo and pave the way for a more compassionate and inclusive society. It is my fervent hope that by raising awareness and advocating for change, we can prevent future generations from falling victim to the same destructive forces that robbed me and so many others of youth.

As I continue on my journey towards recovery, I am reminded of the resilience of the human spirit and the power of solidarity in overcoming adversity. Together, we can dismantle the harmful narratives that perpetuate eating disorder culture and create a world where every individual is valued and accepted for who they are, regardless of their size or shape.

[what-if-i-just-did]

Open letter to my ex who doesn't even have Tumblr (to my knowledge).

Trigger warnings for: frequent attempted suicide by loved ones, feeling guilty for suicidality of loved ones, unrequited love resulting in toxic relationship, numbness, self-harm by cutting and the resulting scars, anorexia, bulimia, attempted suicide by paracetamol overdose and jumping in front of a train, making fun of serious situations, mental institutions, smoking, alcohol, failing school, hospitals, queer suffering, flashbacks, pedophilia, non-descript bad parents, probably more. Just, all the trigger warnings.

Thinking back to the days when you tried to kill yourself.

Feeling like a zombie, hollow, and yet on hyper alert at the same time, for days. Telling all my teachers that if my phone rang during a lesson, I would have to pick it up. You never called.

I still went to school. I woke up worried sick about you and I went about my day like everything was fine. Staying up all night so I'd be awake if you called with news. If someone else called with news.

I remember never crying. I remember sitting on a trash can in my garden and talking to you on the phone while you tried to leave the world and me behind. I remember leaving the phone for a few minutes to argue with my mom about being allowed to call with you- when I came back, you'd taken the pills.

I remember leaving my school books at home so I could pack clean clothes into my school bag. I didn't think you'd have them at the hospital, I didn't think anyone else would have thought to bring any. I was ready to ditch school at a second's notice, half-way through a lesson, if you said you needed me. You didn't let me see you.

I didn't have any friends. The only person at school who actually knew why I was on emergency standby was my biology teacher, who I still think is one of the coolest dudes on the planet. I chatted for hours with this one person online who I didn't know anything about, not even their name. We didn't actually talk, we just rp'd for hours when I should've been doing schoolwork.

I remember driving my parents nuts because I was willing to break every single one of their rules if it meant it might help you. I remember how they tried to be supportive while still trying to get me to take care of myself, and how I was willing to burn myself to the ground if it meant you would look at my dying flame and I would know you were alright.

I remember going through a mixed Hell of numbness, worry, guilt, grief. I remember the comedic tiktoks you made from your hospital bed, and thinking, "How can you joke about this? This huge, silent burden that I carry around for days at a time, and you're joking about it to strangers online instead of reassuring me that you're okay?"

I remember somewhere, silently realizing that you never actually cared about me the way I cared about you. You couldn't even tell me you were alive, you didn't even want me at your bedside. I remember denying that out loud, but within, I knew this was where our relationship was failing.

I remember feeling like a failure because I couldn't stop you from trying to leave. My being here wasn't enough to make you want to fight to stay, and my trying to convince you (begging, pleading, manipulating, distracting) only lasted until I left for a few minutes to argue with my mom.

I remember being so calm, when we were calling. It scared me. It's still the first reaction I have when I get calls like that. I remember asking you about how many pills you were taking, and saying "Okay." when you said, "A normal amount." I remember how you laughed and asked if I just believed that. I remember having to ask four times, worried now, to find out you lied to me, and I believed you because I trusted you. I remember asking about how much pills you were taking, how deep you were cutting, how many cigarettes you took with you. I remember how you accused me of only asking to relay that information, asking me who I was calling, yelling. Like I could ever have betrayed you like that, even if it meant saving your life. I was never a snitch. The only person I was calling with was you.

I remember how you barely ate. I remember how the scars looked, covering your arms, and the way you wore short sleeves outside like you were flaunting them, yelling at the world that you're fucked up. I remember starting to like your cigarettes more and more. I remember sharing the alcohol with you that I stole from my mom. I remember the way you sounded when you took 21 paracetamol, when you took 25, when you took 27, when you took 18. I remember hating myself for how I couldn't save you.

I remember visiting you in that fucking mental hospital. I remember going to buy beer and smoking the cigarettes they let you have there. I remember how I wasn't allowed to see your room. I remember how you looked happier there than you had at home. I remember wondering how much of it your little sister could understand.

You know I still smoke? I used to hate smokers. You know I can't ever see paracetamol without thinking of you? I have them in my bag 24/7 because of my headaches, too. Not that you ever knew about those.

I keep thinking about how those days, weeks, months, affected where I am now.

The person I used to text for hours? I've video called with them so many times now. I know their name, their emotions, their dog. I would die for them. I still don't think they know about those days.

My biology teacher isn't my teacher anymore. I still hug him every time I see him. I remember how he told me about all the friends he lost to suicide. I remember thinking it was part of my legacy, in a way, as a queer person. To lose people like that. I was terrified.

I have the sound of my phone off most of the time now. It still feels bad sometimes, like I should always be available. I don't need to be. I am not the only person my friends lean on for support.

I still react the exact same way to emergency suicidal situations as I did to yours. I guess you trained me, in that way. I'm the only one of my friends who could keep a level head when one of us was begging and pleading with us to let him jump in front of a train. We held on to him. I'm the only one who didn't cry.

I still know everything I researched back then. I know all of the non-religious cemeteries in our entire city. I know the exact medical procedure for paracetamol overdose. I know how deep is dangerous with cutting and I know how to disinfect wounds. I know how long you can go without food, without water. I know all about the teenage mental health care in this country.

I still never cry. I still look at that trashcan and remember looking up at the moon as I listened to you cry. I still wonder what it would have been like if you just let me visit you in the hospital. I still remember the lyrics to all the songs I wrote. I still barely take my actual school books to school. I still don't put my phone on airplane mode overnight like my dad says I should. I still have calls where I try to convince my friends not to kill themselves, where I distract them from their suicidality, where I walk them through cleaning up and disinfecting themselves after they self-harm. I'm still not a snitch. But if dumping a friend on their parents or the school with a warning label and no explanation is what it takes for them to be alive, then that's what I'll do. If you had ever chosen an actual effective way of suicide, you would've been dead about six times over. My friends now are smarter. I'm not making that mistake again. I still get flashbacks to then. I still remember you, like nostalgia but the bad kind.

You've blocked me on social media. You've forgotten how I was the only one you could actually lean on and you took me for granted. Or maybe you just never noticed. I know your life got so much worse once I wasn't in the picture anymore. I know your life is kind of in order now, if we consider that you're a minor sleeping and living with a guy who's six years older than you and your parents are alright with that. I know it's definetly been in worse states.

I just needed to tell you that I remember that one night, after we made love, after you gave me my first tattoo and we watched a movie on your laptop. You were asleep against me, lying on my chest in a kind of way, and I was awake all night, stroking your hair, doting it with little kisses, and counting myself lucky.

The morning after, you made pancakes, and we stole your parents beer and you thought it would be funny to cut yourself sneakily in front of me and I caught you. I puked in your toilet that night, because you were dishonoring our agreement by cutting yourself in front of me, so why should I bother to not puke? I felt so fucking guilty. You never found out.

But that night. That night was perfect. That night was my idea of Heaven. That night was safe; you were safe in my arms, I could feel your breaths and heartbeat. And I felt safe, in your stupid little shed, in our beautiful little bubble, I felt safe from all the monsters outside.

[crosstheveil]

Absent people hold tremendous energy in the family system. They cause anxiety and fear, even though it’s not deliberate. This is why it is so important to recognize any loss or ‘absent people’ in the family, be it through abortion, miscarriage, childbirth, suicide, murder or otherwise.

When someone wants to commit suicide, this often means that he or she is entangled with someone in the family who may have been lost without any further acknowledgment by the family. In other words, when someone is missing in the family system, someone has to atone for it. This can be discovered through signs—an awkward behavior or a tendency to flirt with death through repetitive accidents such as a car accident, multiple fractures, a deep depression, and so on. The first questions we should consider are: “Who does he/she imitate?” “Who does he/she want to follow?”

We can find suicide warning signs in behaviors that could seem “normal” or ”safe” at first, but actually have deeper emotional charges.

The reasons for suicide are often deeply unconscious and the very definition of suicide itself is also one that lives outside the sphere of most peoples’ awareness. That is, one doesn’t have to jump from a bridge or swallow poison to be engaged in the process of stopping life.

In Western society, piercings and tattoos are other behaviors to pay attention to. For those who have numerous piercings, we may need to ask the questions: “Why do they want to suffer so many times? Why do they want to cover or transform their body?” The body is a natural house for life. So it could be said that drastic transformation of one’s body through these procedures reflects an abandoned respect for their life. Of course, this is a personal choice for everyone that needs to be respected; however multiple tattoos and piercings could be a sign that something is wrong at a deeper level. Some are probably trying to fix something through the pain or embellishments. We could ask: “Why can’t they accept themselves as they are?”

Anorexia can also be seen as a slow suicide. By not feeding themselves, people with the condition refuse the gift of life. Questions to ask: “Why are they following this slow, painful process towards death?” “Do they want to catch the attention of their parents?” “Is it a call for help?” Yes, most likely. Pay attention to the signs, ask questions and start the conversation. Don’t turn a deaf ear or a blind eye to this disorder.

If we ever think about committing suicide, we can ask: “Who do I want to save?” We are probably entangled with someone who passed away (literally or symbolically) and in loyalty to our family system; we want to follow that person.

If a mother has had an abortion, she will sometimes want to follow her child and subconsciously die. Therefore one of her other children may unconsciously “take care of her” and want to die for her: “Dear Mom, I will die in your place.” Always remember that a child is loyal to its parents and will do anything to release their pain.

Lastly, when a murder has not been recognized in the past, one member of the next generation might atone for her/his fate and commit suicide to bring order back into the family soul. All of these examples have the same goal: “I will die in your place.” How can we release this family pressure?

We can work with these invisible forces by rendering them visible in the light of the field. With this acknowledgment, these forces become conscious and the tension is released so everyone can see what is happening. The family will start acting differently. It can be perceived as a spiritual act. A very powerful one! Missing people need to be accepted, recognized and loved no matter what fate they chose to live.

By respecting their fate, we respect the order in our system and it will release the heavy weight of secrets and accordingly, the unconscious desire to atone for someone or to balance the system through a suicide.

“You have a place in my heart. All of you. In front of me, there is my life and I embrace it. I respect your decision and bow to your fate, and I honor you as my father/mother (or other family member).”

If you feel an empty desire to follow your path, or are still clueless about why you feel bored and profoundly demotivated about your life, maybe it’s time to start asking your family questions. They could know something that you were not aware of that feels like a missing piece.

Often the root of the problem lies in your lineage, not solely you.

Even if you do not get answers that seem to help, I would recommend that you create a little ceremony to recognize any missing people in your family. You can write a letter, burn a candle or even plant a new tree or rose bush. Whatever new movement you initiate will trigger a shift that will contribute to a new beginning in your family nest.

— Marine Sélénée, from The Movement

[memwazz]

SEVEN - Ezra Marshall

- ROLE

Ezra is Aloïs Marshall's twin brother and right-hand man, as well as the founder of the 7th Division. He's a superhero-ine who does drag and goes under the name of Queen Elizabeth.

He will act like a mentor towards Erwan and teach him how to fight/control his powers.

- APPEARANCE

Species : surhuman

Age : 37

Height : 180 cm

+40 years old Ezra (right) during his corruption arc with Ginger (left).

COSTUME

Mermay!Ezra (right) in Elizabeth's costume with Mermay!Roxanne (left).

Killer Queen's costume during Ezra's corruption arc.

- ILLUSTRATIONS, COMICS, SHITPOST

- Illustrations :

Finish Line - Mermay 2023 - Pockets - Marshall Cats - Teenagers - Bodies - Lingerie - Pink Doodles - The Purge - Grass - EzThur - BOOM - Stay Hydrated ! -

- Comics :

At first - I'm Gay - Somebody to Love - Cigarette -

- Shitpost :

Disney Princess Meme - I Needed Attention - Trauma Dump - Bi Disaster - Puta Madre - Each Other's... - Bigots - Spoon - Cliff - Mistake - Spectrum - Communist -

- ABILITIES

Ezra's sensitivity to gravity is variable and he can control it. It allows him to levitate, weigh heavier or lighter and move some heavy objects quite easily. His strength may be terrible when he uses gravity to hit harder.

He's not the best fighter but learnt some basics and is able to defend himself in the field.

- PERSONALITY

Ezra's most notable trait is his messy mental health. He has depression and suicidal thoughts since the age of 13 and it affected his personality. He will often look and be depressed and will vent a lot about it. He regularly slits his wrists, failed multiple suicide attempts and had to stay in a mental hospital a few times. He also has a C/PTSD and an invasive chronic anxiety.

However, he remains someone with a great sense of humor and could be considered the funniest member of the team. A lot of his jokes are self-depreciative or revolve around his mental health he seems to take carelessely, but not only.

Ezra can be quite cynical and sarcastic too. He has quite a sassy mouth, especially on the battlefield where his persona Queen Elizabeth always provokes enemies.

Ezra's self-esteem is very low but he manages to hide it behind this clown-like behavior. He has a lot of body issues because he was bullied for his weight as a child : he now suffers from anorexia and other disorders such as pica, but tries to hide it so his relatives won't prevent him from putting his life at risk.

Indeed, Ezra has the bad habit of endangering himself a lot. Whether during missions or in his personal life, he doesn't care about living so he won't always think before acting a dangerous way.

Due to being abused as a teenager, he developed a taste for violence he evacuates fighting criminals. The way he acts in missions is quite savage and his morals are questionable.

If Ezra is a clever person who can get away from perilous situations with a good sense of strategy, he willingly acts immature and silly. Carelessness is his coping mechanism and he makes a game of every obstacle paving his way. He sometimes defies law, authority and order just for fun; he's an effective superhero and a good person but can't be considered as reliable or responsible.

His depression may impact his energy and there are some days Ezra is just unable to get out of bed. He's treated with antidepressants which don't seem to work much. One of the causes of his mental issues is his homosexuality he desperately tries to hide. Being told he would go to hell if he was gay as a child, Ezra is afraid his loved ones could reject him if he came out. Keeping his sexuality for himself is painful and worsens his self-esteem problems. Moreover, hiding it prevents him from talking about his biggest trauma.

Indeed, Ezra was groomed aged 13 by a 25 years old and went through domestic and sexual abuse for 4 years. He's convincted it was his fault for being gay and can't cope with it because he refuses to tell anyone he "dated" a man.

After living those violences, Ezra developed a deep fear of physical contact. He can't be touched by anyone (except by his brother under certains circumstances) without having a panick attack or a violent defense reflex.

During missions, Ezra incarnates Elizabeth who's his drag queen persona and a character by herself. Her sassiness is close to real life Ezra's but she's more cheerful and extravaggant. Elizabeth is a colorful character who likes to be seen and make spectacular entrances. She has an obsession on guns and explosions and makes a lot of noise. Her expressions are often very exaggerated and she seems to be extremely confident and arrogant.

The famous gimmick she always shouts at the crowd after an intervention is Stay Hydrated, Bitches !

- BACKSTORY

Ezra is the son of two NASA engineers and grew up with his twin brother Aloïs. His father died from a heart attack when they were about 7 : his mother was pregnant and struggled to raise the kids so she asked for her brother's help.

The uncle accepted to take care of the twins just to live rent free at Lola's house, but he actually hated and mistreated them when his sister was not around. He verbally assaulted Ezra a lot, repeatedly calling him fat and ugly when he started gaining a bit of weight. At some point he would even poison Ezra's food for him to slim, which caused him to develop several eating disorders. His uncle crushed his dreams of becoming a model telling him he would never fit the standards and also told him he would go to hell because he looked gay.

His mother didn't notice the abuse for over 5 years : it left Ezra with deep psychological wounds including depression, anxiety, daddy and body issues and a lack of self-esteem.

When Ezra was 13, his uncle was sent to jail for child abuse and didn't cause him harm anymore. Meanwhile, Aloïs decided to withdrawn from school and left the house for a military camp. Since their relationship was fusional and they couldn't live without each other, Aloïs' departure broke Ezra's heart.

Feeling alone and desperately needing a male role model, Ezra engaged in a toxic romantic relationship with a 25 years old. His "boyfriend" quickly started beating and raping him, which caused Ezra even more traumas, a terrible fear of contact and violence issues.

Back then, he used to fight violently with bullies and was evicted a few times from both public and private schools, which never stopped him. He even earned some money secretly participating in street fights. Ezra calmed down a bit when he integrated a new school again : he didn't want to be evicted anymore after meeting his best friend Leanor.

In the meantime, Ezra had decided to use violence for the good cause and was fighting criminals wearing a cheerleader costume. Since Leanor had superpowers on her own, Ezra finally revealed her he was acting as a superhero and from then on, they formed a duo named "The Rising Freaks".

When he was 17, Ezra found her mother dead in the living-room after she had shot herself in the head. Aloïs came back from the camp after this tragic event : he quickly discovered about his abusive relationship with his older boyfriend.

Aloïs tried to confront the man but they had an argument and he accidentally killed him. Ezra didn't want his brother to go to prison and despite his protest, asked Leanor's help to get rid of the corpse.

Aged 20, Aloïs also joined The Rising Freaks and Ezra who was attending a fashion school started sewing fancier costumes. The team (whose Ezra was the leader) gradually got bigger, including Connor and Arthur.

During a mission 10 years before the story, the heroes had to dismantle a branch of the mafia and met a teenager named Roxanne whose power was exploited to kill people. She was forced to fight them but they won and the twins decided to take the girl home to raise her like a sister. She was very aggressive at first but finally softened thanks to their love and care. Their relationship is now strong and loving.

Two years later, they were investigating on a child trafficking case and the acts of pedophilia it involved triggered Ezra a lot. He refused to ask for his teammates' help and overdosed on Xanax instead, then lead the mission while being completely high. The intervention failed and resulted in Connor's death : Leanor left the team and disappeared out of resentment and hate for Ezra.

After this incident, Ezra stopped being a superhero for months and when he started fighting again, he found himself unable to direct the interventions again. He gave his brother the leadership and became his right-hand man.

He's still in the team (now renamed the 7th Division) aged 37 and his role has remained the same as before.

- PRIVATE LIFE

Ezra graduated fashion school and now works as a stylist : he runs his own business and brand and manages to do the job despite his catastrophic mental health. He lives at the Division's headquarters with his twin brother and his adoptive sister Roxanne.

Most of his friends are from the 7th Division and he's single but has a crush on Arthur.

Nicknames :

Queen Elizabeth

Elizabeth

Ez

Mr. Marshall (Charlie)

RELATIONSHIPS

ALOÏS

Ezra is Aloïs' twin and couldn't live a single day without him. They're extremely close and still live together even as adults.

Due to his mental illnesses, Ezra relies on his brother a lot and Aloïs knows how to take care of him when he's at his lowest. However, they sometimes argue because Aloïs is too controlling or Ezra too irresponsible. Their relationship is flawed but fusional and loving : they do almost everything together, including taking decisions for the team.

Ezra himself has a positive influence on Aloïs : their support is mutual and indispensable to each other. Ezra is the only person who's able to calm Aloïs' autistic meltdowns/shutdowns and sometimes sleeps next to him when they don't feel well.

Despite their personalities being polar opposites, the Marshall twins share a lot of common interests such as superheroes stuff (including comics as well as real life missions), fighting or chess.

They couldn't stand being separated and need each other a lot. However, they don't show much signs of affection : Aloïs likes hugs but Ezra is contact phobic and both have difficulties telling each other "I love you".

In the Division, Elizabeth is The Clockworker's right hand.

ARTHUR

Ezra has been crushing on Arthur since the day they met (aged 13-17), even if he was still with his abuser back then. He's still in love with him but does everything to hide it because he fears Arthur could reject him or find his homosexuality disgusting.

When it comes to anything else, Ezra has a total trust in Arthur and his soft personality makes him feel safe. They're very good friends at the beginning of the story and could spend days and nights talking, having a drink or playing chess (with or without Aloïs joining).

A few years after the main timeline, Ezra finally confesses to Arthur and they start dating. From then on, Ezra gets triggered again by the idea of a new relationship and his trust in Arthur collapses. He fears he could abuse him too now they're a couple : however, this fear will disappear as the relationship evolves and Ezra understands Arthur respects him.

Even if they're dating, they rarely have physical contact nor have sex due to Ezra's traumas. They're raising Arthur's biological daughter Ruby together.

ROXANNE

Just like Aloïs, Ezra considers Roxanne as his little sister. He's not able to hug her because of his fear of contact, but he would like to and shows her affection other ways. He would die and kill to protect her.

Ezra is the person who taught Roxanne how to behave in society after she was taken away from an abusive environment and had received a very limited education. He's always ready to listen to her problems and help her dealing with her emotions. Roxanne sometimes comes up to him when she needs advices.

RUBY

Ruby is Arthur's biological daughter and therefore will become Ezra's step-daughter later in the story.

From the moment she arrives to the headquarters to ask for the Division's help, the two of them start bonding and Ezra acts like a dad towards her way before he dates Arthur. When she doesn't feel well because of her visions and the other members of the team don't know what to do, he manages to calm her anxiety engaging in activities such as visual art or showing her how to make up. Ruby quickly gets as attached to Ezra as to Arthur.

When Ezra becomes her second Dad, he's the "cool one" giving the most chaotic education. He sometimes allows her daughter to eat things Arthur forbid for dinner, teaches her that violence is a solution when kids bully her, etc. The opposite education the couple gives to Ruby sometimes results in conflict.

Because of her death-related superpower, Ruby is able to feel Ezra's distress and his history with suicide attempts and suicidal thoughts. It worries her a lot but she does her best to help.

LEANOR

Leanor used to be Ezra's best friend : they met at school when they were 13 and 14. They founded what became the 7th Division together and fought alongside for over 15 years. Unfortunately, a tragic lead by Ezra took Leanor's boyfriend's life 8 years before the story.

Leanor never forgave and has been hating Ezra since, wishing him dead or emotionally destroyed. She even became a criminal and arms trafficker in order to fight the 7th Division.

Ezra on the other hand, tries to reason Leanor when they meet again during her arc, in vain. He still sees her as a friend and feels guilty and heartbroken after what happened. He wants Leanor to forgive him and become his friend again but knows deep inside things will never be the same.

From time to time, the mention of Connor and Leanor triggers Ezra and causes him a panick attack.

GRACE

Grace is one of Ezra's closest friends and someone he trusts in a lot. He feels safe and relaxed around her thanks to her reassuring aura and her delicacy. Grace being a lesbian, he's less afraid of physical contact when it comes to her because he doesn't fear she could sexually assault him.

She's also from the rare people to be able to calm his panick attacks and depressive episodes : her powers are quite effective on Ezra. However, she never managed to really improve his daily mental health.

MYKO

Myko is Ezra's good friend and they're having a lot of fun together. He likes their careless personality and the two of them share the coping mechanism of acting goofy to hide from their problems. He can't help laughing when Myko willingly acts stupid or causes chaos during missions.

[bioethicists]

why do you call it anti psychiatry??? you could just call it psychiatry critical or mad liberation or something and then you wouldn't alienate people who take meds

well first of all for full disclosure, i am a person who takes psychiatric medication! as are, i believe, most ppl who are coming to anti psychiatry from a place of trauma. beta blockers specifically have revolutionized my ability to function and i would be on stimulants if it weren't for the difficulty of finding a psych who will prescribe them + my eating disorder

i have thought about this but ultimately there are two main reasons why i use anti psychiatry

1) it aligns with a rich history of critique, tied in with mad liberation (altho mad liberation is much more than a critique of the psychiatric system) and i want to locate myself within that history

2) Psychiatry, as a system, is not the act of prescribing medications to alleviate suffering. it's a system rooted in oppression, power, and control, that categorizes certain minds as "sick" and in need of controlling and others as "well" and thus allowed to keep autonomy. the existence of individual spaces which defy that (for example, i rlly liked one of my psychiatrists as a child and he was relatively aware of our power imbalance) doesn't change the fact that it's founded in that system, just like how individual cops don't justify policing.

i don't want to use the term "psychiatry critical" because i feel that it provides people an easy out from critiquing their position in an unjust system, to say "well i'm not one of those ones so". there are certainly ppl in the anti-psych community who are anti medication, but almost none of them are coming from a true liberationist perspective- they're usually critiquing psychiatry through a reactionary "return to nature" type lens and have little to no interest in issues of Power or Autonomy

in fact, anti-psychiatry doesn't say u 'shouldn't' be taking meds, it says you shouldn't have to subject yourself to institutional control and "prove yourself" to be sick enough to get xyz med- you should have access to a wider range of drugs than you probably do have access to, without medical gatekeeping, free of charge and free of coercion. similarly, you should be able to process and feel your suffering without risk of institutionalization, within your own communities, with both ppl who are experienced in addressing extreme pain and your peers, through whatever methods you choose and are best for you, with constant and persistent focus on what you want for yourself (rather than an interest in returning you to 'normality'), with a community and society that is dedicated to having your needs met and you voice heard.

that being said, i definitely know many ppl who have been burned hard by the specific anti-psych sect of ppl who claim to be grounded in liberation but have a deep level of disdain for ppl who still interact with the system or take and use knowledge from the system- ppl who think all knowledges related to therapy and psychiatry are inherently wrong. i once had to leave a mad liberation group because someone was intensely and aggressively telling me and other's that anorexia was a white woman's diet of vanity and anorexics could "just stop" and the psychiatric system was just pandering to them and pathologizing their vanity. the mods did nothing but say it was a "safe space for disagreement"

so i hear u that these spaces can be invalidating and unsafe or that the term can make ppl feel like they're being critiqued for using tools that help them- i just want to overcome those positions within the space rather than jumping ship and leaving anti psychiatry to those who don't approach it with the end goal of empathy or autonomy

[growandrecover]

Eating fear foods - Tips 

just to preface, this will be, without a doubt, scary for most people. but you have to be patient with yourself, and if it doesn't work the first time with a particular food, don't stress out about it, you'll be able to eat it one day.

find something to spite. for me, it was my nutritionist, as she always made me feel like a spec of dirt. so whenever I challenged a new food, I always started off by thinking "screw you, m. I'm gonna prove you wrong." now, hopefully you have not had the same experience, but you can always spite your ed. for example, "screw you, ana. I'm going to take back my life, and I deserve this. I'm tired of following your rules."

introduce it slowly. I remember I came home from therapy one day, and my therapist had told me to eat a handful of m&ms. my first thought was, "no way! you're crazy, do you know xyz about those! nice try." and that night, my mom sat me down at the table and forced me to eat 4. I was extremely hard, and I was scared the entire time, but I did it. I ate four of them every day for a while, and it still made me so nervous, but I really enjoyed eating them because they taste so good! after a while, I was able to work my way up to 30 something, and I was so happy (and a little nervous), but mostly proud of myself and how far I had come.

have support around you. it doesn't have to be a therapist or a nutritionist, just someone you can trust will work. on halloween this past year, I was challenged by the same nutritionist to eat a piece of pizza. I told her there was no way I could do that, and she and I bargained until we got to just a bite. I still had no faith in myself, but luckily I had a group of friends over that night, and they were incredible. one of them who doesn't even like cheese was willing to eat a piece of pizza with me if I would. And she did. support is great, and it will hopefully help you achieve your goals!

accept the fact that you can't keep living like this. I know this is so hard to do, but it's true. this disorder will not get you anywhere in life. and if you're thinking, no no, it will. it won't. I promise. I was in the same boat as you, and I thought my anorexia would give me everything I couldn't give myself, but I was wrong. I was SO wrong. I had never been more miserable, and now I can't imagine going back to that horrible place. the life you have now, no matter how great it might be, is not the best life you could be living because you're still suffering through your disorder too. it doesn't matter which one you have, this is still no way to live. you deserve to eat. you deserve to eat food you enjoy. no buts about it. "but you don't know who I am and what my situation is! I don't deserve that!" no. that's not true. you are a human, you deserve food and you deserve to eat food you love. end of story.

know that you are stronger than you think. this disorder is not the end all be all. if you fight it, eventually, it will stop. you will get through this, and you will be able to live a life not revolving around food again. I promise you. I never would have thought that to be true for myself, but here I am, loving my new body and loving the food I get to eat. my disorder does not control my life anymore, and one day, you'll get to that place too. I believe in you. you've got this.

as always, please reach out if you need someone to talk to, my messages and asks are open! :)

[pompettepink]

TW: ED’s (in relation to your pinned post)

Hi! I understand you mean well when you try and report accounts centred around eating disorders, but this is actually incredibly harmful towards those struggling and will only make them create more accounts. It’s better off telling them either through dm’s or in their notes somehow that coquette and dollette and other fashion/aesthetics don’t belong in eating disorder communities and kindly ask them to remove the tags or take down the post. Reporting these accounts will only worsen their mental state and in the end does nothing because they will create more accounts or they’ll migrate and spread their venting to another platform

I don’t say this to be mean but as someone who’s currently recovering and used to have accounts like that, it can be really harmful and if barely does anything! Thank you

Thanks for reaching out to me. I completely understand your concern but I believe you might have glossed over a really important part of my post.

The aid I suggested was in regards to pro anorexic girls, as in girls who spread incredible harm by suggesting that others make their mental state and bodies worse with their tips and tricks, girls who glamorize and advocate for the suffering of eating disorders, and girls who tell others that starvation is worthwhile and will make a person look beautiful.

Pro anorexia has no place in the coquette tag even though anorexic girls themselves are more than welcome!

I definitely DID incorporate messaging these pro anorexia accounts in my steps, but I truly do not believe that these accounts who support anorexia should be allowed to remain unreported while they intentionally harm others, worsen the mental state of other coquettes who are struggling, and add to the beautification of disordered eating.

Of course they can make more anorexia positive accounts, and of course these harmful girls might get harmed by having their rule violating account deleted, but the coquette community has the option of defending the space we're in so we can protect ourselves against having our mental health ruined or from having people tell us how pretty wasting away from hunger is.

Hope this clarifies everything!