What the fuck is wrong with me.

  • one minute: I'm not even sick. I don't have an eating disorder.
  • the next minute: I'M NEVER GOING TO GET BETTER.
  • one minute: I feel great
  • the next minute: IT HURTS. IT HURTS AND I WANT TO DIE OH GOD IT HURTS.
  • one minute: lol fuck this I want to get better.
  • the next minute: there is no "better" there is only different
  • one minute: oh god wait muscle atrophy pains, I am sick.
  • the next minute: WHERE ARE MY MUSCLE ATROPHY ACHES? :(
  • i get upset if I can't tell I'm starving. I get upset if I can climb the stairs quickly. ick.

greedy.... that is exactly what reinforces my guilt over food.

  • what you said: you look healthy.
  • what i heard: you don't look sick.
  • what it means: you have been eating well enough to not be gravely thin.
  • what that translates to: you are greedy.
  • what that means: you are disgusting and selfish.
  • THIS IS WHY WE DON'T COMPLIMENT ME, OKAY?
Is this what it’s like to go crazy? She’d never imagined it like this – when she’d thought of someone (a woman like herself) losing her mind, she’d imagined shrieks and wails, hallucinations; but at that moment it had seemed clear that there was another way, far quieter; a way that was numb and hopeless, flat, so much so that an emotion as strong as sorrow would have been a relief. The Hours by Michael Cunningham (via thechocolatebrigade)