everything-in-its-right—place:
If I Eat:
-
I will get fatter.I will maintain the weight I am at.-
Nobody will like me if I’m fat. Most non-disordered people will value or de-value me for things other than my weight; the people who truly like me don’t care if I’m fat.-
I will never be good enough for him or anyone. I will get to define my worth by something other than weight.-
People will talk about me and how I was doing so well, but then I gained weight again.People won’t notice if I gained or lost, because they’re not the ones fixated on weight.
-I will hurt myself. I will take care of myself, and give my body what it needs to survive.-
I will regret it. My disorder will regret it. I will be something besides disordered.-
I will be unhappy forever.I will be less unhappy than when I am starving, binging, purging, hating myself, driving my loved ones away, becoming nothing but a calorie count and a number on a scale, trapped in an endless cycle of illusion.If I Don’t Eat:
-
I will feel weightless. I will feel dizzy, nauseous, tired, and distant. I will not be an active participant in my life.-
I will lose weight.I will lose and gain, and lose and gain, and never lose enough.-
I will be pretty and I will be good enough for everyone. I will have have dry skin and my hair will fall out and my stomach will bloat and I’ll have bags under my eyes and my skin will break out and my face will become sunken. I won’t be good enough for anyone because I won’t have the energy to be anyone.-
I will love myself.I will still hate myself, no matter how the number drops, because no number will ever be low enough. I will hate myself because my mental disorder is deceiving me into believing things will get better if I make myself worse. I will not understand what self-love and self-acceptance truly are, and I will have no confidence because of it.-
He will finally notice me.He’ll never notice me because I’ll fade away to the background.-
No more people laughing at me. People still talking about me, not understanding how I’m struggling.-
My self esteem will get higher. My self esteem will get lower because when I deprive my body of nutrients, malnutrition will lower my serotonin and dopamine levels, causing mood imbalance and depression.-
People will give me compliments, no more criticizing. People will still criticize because losing weight does not make me adequate at any other parts of life. I’ll be able to handle the criticism even less.-
I will not need to purge. I will binge and purge more frequently because long periods of starvation make the body more prone to binge than regular eating, in an effort to stock up on fuel while it can. And I’ll purge until my throat’s too sore and my voice is ruined and I’ve got a perpetual cold and tooth decay and bad breath and vomit stains on everything. I’ll purge while my little sister’s in the other room; I’ll purge into my backpack on a public bus; I’ll ditch class to purge behind school. I’ll do some of the most shameful things of my life because I’m too afraid of my disorder.-
I will not cut myself, nor hurt myself. I will do both. Starvation is hurting myself.-
I will be happy when I’m skinny. I will be depressed. I will be a liar. I will have nothing to show but a failing body and a maddened mind.-I
will see my bones. My friends will too, and my parents, and my siblings. I’ll hurt those who love me. I’ll cause them suffering when they can’t help me.-
I will not be ashamed of anything. I will never be more ashamed of myself. I’ll wear baggy clothes to hide the fat I’m convinced is there. I’ll be too afraid to go out with friends, go to the beach, go on a date. I won’t want anyone to touch me, I’ll be too uncomfortable in my own skin. I’ll promise, ‘when I’m skinnier.’ I’ll purge and feel nothing but shame.-
I will be the pretty girl I always wanted to be. I’ll be a person consumed by disorder, an empty shell. I’ll have no joy, no passion beyond losing weight. I’ll watch my one life pass; I’ll spend it hoping to die. Maybe I’ll even come close. And there’ll be no cosmic vindication once I’ve ruined myself, only more suffering. No end-game. There’s no way to reach the ‘pretty girl I’ve always wanted’ through disorder.Anorexia, bulimia, and EDNOS are diseases that deceive. Fight disordered thoughts. Choose life.
thank you.
"…In faith we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail
among the sacred islands of the mad till death
shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real."
Sylvia Plath, Tale of a Tub
"Each day demands we create our whole world over,
disguising the constant horror in a coat
of many-colored fictions; we mask our past
in the green of Eden, pretend future’s shining fruit
can sprout from the navel of this present waste."
Sylvia Plath, Tale of a Tub
"Caught naked int he merely actual room,
the stranger in the lavatory mirror
puts on a public grin, repeats our name
but scrupulously reflects the usual terror."
Sylvia Plath, Tale of a Tub
As someone who doesn’t drink coffee, I never understood when people took caffeine pills.
I get it now.
I AM AWAKE.
It’s true what they say, the treatment is worse than the cure.
Brown-based color palette, for my current watercolor project.
(Source: multicolors, via skinnyevilcunt)
"What gives greater offense, what separates one more fundamentally, than to reveal something of the severity and respect with which one treats oneself? And on the other hand—how accommodating, how friendly all the world is toward us as soon as we act as all the world does and “let ourselves go” like all the world!"
On the Genealogy of Morals - Friedrich Nietzsche
