Trigger warning: anorexia, self harm, rape. This is a place for me to say the things I'm ashamed of.
It’s Alec’s birthday and I’m so depressed that I don’t want to see him because I’ll probably ruin it. I want to be dead.
I’m lonely and fat and I want to be dead.
All I want to do is smoke cigarettes and cry.
My newest tattoo.
eating disorders are competitive. it’s twisted but you compete with other people to “be the sickest”
so if you’re sat there thinking “i’m not sick enough to deserve to get better” then i promise you, you are
because normal, healthy people don’t have these thoughts. normal people don’t sit there and think “damn i wish i could have broken my arm in more places so that i am allowed to let it heal”