I can’t really pin down a reason why, but I have the strongest urge to cut right now. I don’t even remember the last time I felt it this strongly.
I just keep telling myself that today marked one year, three months clean. One year three months, and I don’t want to start that count over. It will pass, it will pass, it will pass…
‘I tried bulimia once.’
There’s nothing quite as lovely as a thoughtful message from someone who understands:" (via imnosupermanx)
’Sorry you’re going through this, I tried bulimia once and it sucked.’
Bulimia does suck. The sky is also blue, and the world round.
But darling, you did not try bulimia once.
Forgive me if I’m callous, but I can’t dig up much sympathy for someone who believes gagging once and deciding it’s icky is ’bulimia’. Sure, it’s never a good thing to try to make yourself sick, unless you’ve just been poisoned. And thinking purging is a viable option isn’t exactly healthy.
But sticking your fingers down your throat and coughing and then going OH MY GOD EW is not bulimia. Fasting for a day and then ‘fainting’ in the hallway is not anorexia. And ‘getting so desperate I seriously considered anorexia or bulimia’ isn’t an eating disorder.
Bulimia is a speeding train with no brakes, bingeing and purging and bingeing and purging no matter how broke you are or how disgusting the food is or what you should be doing. It’s gorging until you can barely stand, puking until you bleed, and the city could burn to the ground and when it was over you’d still be standing in the ashes, bingeing and purging.
Anorexia is a wall of blue-gray ice, a miswired translation code that turns appetite into disgust, a terror you don’t understand, a fear so real you can see it and hear it and kiss it goodnight, an illogical logic that rewrites everything and you know you need to eat and maybe you even really want to eat but you just can’t because if you did everything would fall apart.
Desperation is digging through the garbage for nothing-something-anything to stuff in your face because you have to binge and purge right now. Desperation is standing frozen in the aisle of the grocery store for minutes/hours/years, and then buying the same calorie-free crap you always buy because you can’t eat it if it’s not safe. Desperation is swallowing laxatives like normal people swallow candy, just because you have to be empty.
And you can’t ’consider anorexia and bulimia’, as though they were for sale at the pharmacy between agoraphobia and cyclothymia.
You didn’t ‘try bulimia once’.
It’s not a diet, and it’s not a choice.
(Source: kristenpurgeswords, via mentally-illectric)
"I am not what happened to me, I am who I choose to become." C.G. Jung (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
But really. Stretch marks aren’t only a “fat” thing.
They’re a HUMAN thing.
It wasn’t having the body of my dreams that made me love myself. No. It was jumping off a cliff into freshwater, swimming naked, drinking wine with a friend at 2 in the morning, sleeping under the stars, confessing my feelings to someone, laughing in the rain, riding in the back of a landrover, crossing streams and climbing rocks, singing around a campfire, getting up before the sun and watching it set behind mountains. I unapologetically immersed myself into things that awakened my soul. And in those moments I was so busy being me, so busy being happy, that I didn’t even realize someone was falling for me. So don’t worry too much. Do your thing. Live for yourself, because you are enough. ♡
Live a life you love and you will love yourself." I’m reading my diary entries from last year. This was much needed right now. (via vegandrine)