You tell me to “cheer up”.
You tell me that “it’s only a bad day”
You tell me “don’t worry”
“Things will get better”
“It’s only a matter of time”
“You should love yourself”
“You deserve better”
“Life is beautiful”
“You’re beautiful”
“I love you”
“I care for you”
“You’re strong”
“You can overcome this”
“You’ll survive”

But you have no idea how fucking hard it is to believe any of that. It’s almost impossible.

I’m so angry and I want to let this out like for instance throw some beer bottles at a wall to release some of this pent up frustrations and emotions.

My dad wants to us to go to the mall and eat out to celebrate mom’s birthday (even mom’s in another country). On normal days i’d be happy because free food but i’m not even in the mood to move atm.

Little Dancer Thing #30


Not being sore after dancing for 4 hours straight, but ready to die after going to the gym for 40 minutes

Eating disorders are not about a fear of being fat. They may begin that way, but to the souls who suffer from this, all of which are comprised of different body types and weights; the starving, the bingeing, the purging are the weapons with which we fight off the demons of inadequacy who grab us by the throat daily, look into our vacant eyes, and tell us we are nothing until we’ve proven that we are the conquerors of our destinies, which sadly, revolves around an ability to control a disorder meant, in the end, to kill us.