Anorexia. EDNOS. Depression. PTSD. Anxiety.
The images I post on my blog can be extremely triggering/disturbing. Please leave immediately if you are bothered by anything you see here.
I do not in any way wish to promote anorexia, bulimia or any other self-destructive behavior on my blog. I am not a pro-ana/mia blog, nor am I pro-recovery. I am a sufferer who's here to express her feelings and share her story. I'm here to express, not impress. If you can relate to anything I post or reblog here, follow me.
I WILL NOT GLAMORIZE IT FOR YOU! Anorexia NOT a diet. It's not a fashion statement. It's not about being skinny. Anorexia is a death wish. It's living hell.
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“I emerge from my room, a butterfly from her cocoon, and no one seems a bit concerned about the metamorphosis. I could spread my wings, let them dry, then fly far, far away and no one would notice my departure. I’m a shadow”
“Head spinning, gut churning, I go to the bathroom, try not to look at the girl in the mirror as I pass by. Every time I think I’ve gained a little control, actually played an active role in determining my future, reality punches me in the face. I have no control at all. All I can do is hang on for the ride, and it’s starting to make me completely insane. The toilet beckons and my body responds, evacuating (Chopin and) undigested mac and cheese every which way imaginable. Finally I lay my sweaty forehead against the cool porcelain. No! I don’t deserve such comfort. In fact, right this moment, all I really deserve, really desire, is pain.”
“I reach for my razor, triple bladed and critically sharp.
I’ve shaved my legs for years, know to be careful,
yet suddenly I don’t give a fuck and puss hard.
The consequences are immediate.
Blood streams from the long, wide slice I’ve opened.
It vanishes down the drain, and I can’t help but smile.”