21 and invincible. Passive/Aggressive. Manic/Depressive. Recovering anorexic, orthorexic, and self mutilator. I started this path by choice, and now its taken over, once again. I don't have the energy to try and stop it. I don't like mirrors, and I have scars that make even the most experienced psychiatrists cringe. thats all folks.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
At the risk of no one reading this..
..because since being in recovery/healing/being healthy/graduating college I have yet to give this tumblog the attention it deserves..I’m going to say this anyway.
The worst thing a person can do is keep a secret, keep the truth, from themselves. I’ve been doing it for a while, perhaps too long. Pretending I’m ok. Convincing everyone I’m fine, stable, “normal.”
I’m scared. Terrified. I’m going to screw this up, if I haven’t already, and I’m going to end up nowhere fast. But the only thing that terrifies me more than not doing something about it is admitting to the world that I am a fraud. I have become excellent at lying. Pretending to be ok, hiding new wounds, and inventing new ways of hurting.
In my world of “look at me,” or “look at how healthy I am,” “see how wonderful I’m doing?” there isn’t a lot of room for secrets, but I’ve always found the time and the energy to do as I please without regard to anyone or anything else. Maybe this was my problem all along..my lack of concern for others and my underlying selfishness. Unfortunately, if this is the case, the only thing it means is..I still don’t give a damn.
How To Hate Yourself,
More appropriately titled, the story of my life…
Get ready for the day. Dread looking at yourself in the mirror because what you see will make you want to put a paper bag over your head. It doesn’t matter if you’re a Grendel or a Gisele. If you hate yourself, you’re always a Grendel. You could whittle yourself down to 90 pounds and still say things like, “My shoulder blade looks ugly! The veins in my arm are so sick looking!” Most of the time you’ll keep these insane thoughts to yourself, but sometimes you’ll vocalize them to someone who doesn’t hate themselves and they’ll tell you, “What do you mean?! You’re so beautiful, oh my god. You’re nuts!” Your friend does not realize that they are wasting their time with these compliments. Their perception pales in comparison to the power of your own self-loathing.
I don’t think that I was ever trying to kill myself, but I knew that if I had ever gone too far, I wouldn’t care.
792) If you really knew me you’d know that I have hundreds of scars all over my wrists. And if you really knew me you’d know that it’s because I feel disgusting. I feel ugly. I feel fat. I feel stupid. I’m constantly miserable. I don’t think it’ll ever go away. I just don’t think I can bare it any longer. The pain is excruciating. If you really knew you’d know I’m never happy. I need help. No one ever helps though. I’m never taken seriously. I hate it. If you really knew me you’d help because you’d see through my lying I’m happy’s and I’m fine’s. If you really knew you’d know I want to die so badly.
screaming-lambs:kaileakrom:(via ifyouureallyyknewme)
I needed to post this now because I haven’t read something so true for so long. Every single word of this.
I do still have the scars, but the self-loathing has gotten much better. April 3rd was my one-year anniversary of being done with treatment. I’m really, honestly, ok now. Most of the time.
yes! Oh wow, I’m so sorry I feel like I’ve neglected this blog, and in essence, this part of my life for way too long. School has just taken over my life, and in an effort to not get too wrapped up in senioritis, I’ve just been going a thousand miles a minute. Promise I’ll be back in touch with my emotional side soon.
P.S. I miss you.
