flowers and hunger

sw: 120 lbs cw: ? lbs lw: 78 lbs ugw: 74 lbs ------🏵️ bipolar type 1 🏵️🌼 queer 🌼------ -- 18 yr old muslimah-- Hey I'm Eva; feel free to talk to me if you need someone or just want company //Not proana, please go get help and recover if you are struggling with an ed//

[wormtoucher]

cant afford a weighted blanket so im just pouring concrete onto my duvet

[dankmemesreasonforliving]

[geekdawson]

one of the more valuable things I’ve learned in life as a survivor of a mentally unstable parent is that it is likely that no one has thought through it as much as you have. 

no, your friend probably has not noticed they cut you off four times in this conversation. 

no, your brother didn’t realize his music was that loud while you were studying. 

no, your bff or S.O. doesn’t remember that you’re on a tight deadline right now.

no, no one else is paying attention to the four power dynamics at play in your friend group right now.  

a habit of abused kids, especially kids with unstable parents, is the tendency to notice every little detail. We magnify small nuances into major things, largely because small nuances quickly became breaking points for parents. Managing moods, reading the room, perceiving danger in the order of words, the shift of body weight….it’s all a natural outgrowth of trying to manage unstable parents from a young age. 

Here’s the thing: most people don’t do that. I’m not saying everyone else is oblivious, I’m saying the over analysis of minor nuances is a habit of abuse. 

I have a rule: I do not respond to subtext. This includes guilt tripping, silent treatments, passive aggressive behavior, etc. I see it. I notice it. I even sometimes have to analyze it and take a deep breath and CHOOSE not to respond. Because whether it’s really there or just me over-reading things that actually don’t mean anything, the habit of lending credence to the part of me that sees danger in the wrong shift of body weight…that’s toxic for me. And dangerous to my relationships. 

The best thing I ever did for myself and my relationships was insist upon frank communication and a categorical denial of subtext. For some people this is a moral stance. For survivors of mentally unstable parents this is a requirement of recovery. 

[lysikan]

If it wasn’t stated outright - it wasn’t said.

[theselfcarelifestyle]

This is really one of the most important reads

[mugenmcfugen]

this is fucking good advice

[lilac-and-bones-blog]

uhhh yes I'd like to order 1 (one) death please

[anas-friend-nina]

Some people’s 500 calories is fruits and veggies.

Others eat a piece of cake and a couple fries for the day.

Some people drink green tea or coffee to keep them going.

Others drink nothing because they desperately don’t want to break a fast.

Some people tell themselves it’s okay to eat over 1000 calories every now and then, it’s healthy even.

Others cry their soul out for going one calorie over.

Some people exercise regularly, keeping in mind what exercise will best help them get to their “goal.”

Others exercise constantly, because they need to be in the negative calories.

Some people were bullied once or twice or maybe even never for their weight.

Others are bullied relentlessly.

Some people fast no longer than 15 hours.

Others fast for days on end.

Some people start already in the normal range.

Others start in the overweight range.

Some people have never gone to rehab.

Others are in and out of inpatient care constantly.

Some people have tried recovery, and are striving to reach recovery status every day.

Others never want to recover.

But you know what?

All of them have a valid ed.

All of them deserve love, support, and help.

Ed’s do not give a shit about your background, age, gender, weight, race, religion, habits, grades, bringing-up, family, or anything else.

All they care about is controlling you.

[naturaekos]

“I was in the winter of my life- and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell sleep with vision of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three year down the line of being on an endless world tour and memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not very popular one, who once has dreams of becoming a beautiful poet- but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again- sparkling and broken. But I really didn’t mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is. When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living- they asked me why. But there’s no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lied you head. I was always an unusual girl, my mother told me that I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing me due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiviness that was as wide as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying- because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one- who belonged to everyone, who had nothing- who wanted everything with a fire for every experience and an obssesion for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about- and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzlez and dizzied me. Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people- and finally I did- on the open road. We have nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore- except to make our lives into a work of art. LIVE FAST. DIE YOUNG. BE WILD. AND HAVE FUN. I believe in the country America used to be. I belive in the person I want to become, I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever- *I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself- I Ride. I Just Ride.* Who are you? Are you in touch with all your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them? I Have. I Am Fucking Crazy. But I Am Free.”

— Lana Del Rey (via naturaekos)

[lilac-and-bones-blog]

The fact that this is a Lana Del Rey quote blew my mind and made me love her 100% more

[boneybitcheats]

Normal person : Ed Sheeran

Me (immensely troubled): Eating disorder Sheeran

[crystals-and-honey]

Self care but not as cutesy

Be sure to drink some water. if you dont like the taste of it, drink a soda or add flavoring to the water. drink some OJ. AJ. Chocolate milk, or make some tea or coffee. 

Eat. at least something small. a granola bar or maybe a few grapes. a pb & J sandwich or eat some candy. 

please do not forget to brush your teeth or hair. if youre drained or cant put much effort do one or the other. 

when did you last take a shower? go take one. Too drained or mentally numb? get a washcloth and wipe your face and take a shower when you feel better. 

change clothes. i dont care if its from pjs to a new set of pjs. do it. 

bathroom. do you need to use it?

change your underwear. please do. it feels great believe me.

feel like crap and dont want to do much? do a quick 5 minute cleaning whether its ridding trash, or taking dishes up or quickly cleaning off your bed for you to lay back down and stare out the window.

play a game on your phone. that shit just helps sometimes.

feel groggy? open a window. too hot? place a fan near your feet. 

room stink cause its trashy? take out the trash. spray some febreeze or essential oil or a candle. 

do some laundry. 

dont wanna watch tv cause nothing good is on? put on some cartoons and use it as back ground noise. 

5 minute stretches. 

read a book or a page or so. 

reorganize something small.

sit on your front or back porch if you can. 

lay in a sunny warm spot of your home. 

cry if you need to.

make up your bed. its worth it. 

dust something. 

get out of the chair or bed for a bit. 

give your eyes a rest from technology. 

play some music whatever your mood is.

take your damn meds. they will help you. its okay.

Please take care of yourself. little by little. and please remember youre doing the best you can, youre valid, youre fighting, youre awesome. Mental health is important. Mental illness sucks. help your body out. your body is you and its keeping you alive.

[transvampirerights]

[thecooler]

[whaleinwhite]

[coolxatu]

[kaijuno]

In highschool I wrote a story about a middle-generation of stellar travelers. Their parents were born on earth and left as children, and the middle generation will not live long enough to see their destination. They live their entire lives on the ship and I wrote about them trying to find their place in everything. They will never know blue skies and warm beaches and open fields with warm breezes. They’ll never know birdsong or crickets or frogs. They’ll never hear the rain on the roof of a dreary day. I never could find the right way to end the story. I wanted it to be a happy ending, but I didn’t know how to do it.

I realize now that it was a book about me dealing with depression before I even knew it. Looking back at how blatant the projecting was, it’s obvious now. It wasn’t then.

In the story, the middle-generation people are lost. They’re apathetic. They’re just a placeholder. The only job they have is to keep the ship running, have kids, and die. As the middle generation of people began becoming adults, suicide rates were skyrocketing. Crime and drug rates were jumping. This generation was completely apathetic because they felt that they had no use.

In the story, a small group of people in the middle-generation create the Weather Project. They turn the ship into a terrarium. They make magnificent gardens and take the DNA of animals they took with them and recreate them and they make this cold, metal spaceship that they have to live their entire lives on into a home. They take what little they have and they break it and rearrange it into something beautiful. They take this radical idea and turn the ship into a wonderful jungle of trees and birds and sunshine.

And I realize now how much it reflects my state of mind as I transitioned from a child into an adult while dealing with depression. You always hear “it gets better” and “when you’re older things will be easier” and I was so sick of waiting for it to get better. I was in the middle-generation stage. And I was sick of it. I was so sick of waiting.

When I was in highschool I didn’t know how to end the story. I didn’t know how to have a happy ending. I didn’t have the life experience then to finish the story in a meaningful way. I didn’t know how to make it better for these middle-generation characters.

But now that I’m older, I’m learning. That if you sit and wait for things to get better, it never will. You have to take your life and break it apart and rearrange it into something beautiful. You have to make the cold metal ship into the garden that you deserve. You have to make your own meaning. You have to plant your own garden.

You have to teach yourself that being happy is not a radical idea.

[thenaebyrd777]

OP please publish this book 

[getting-lovable]

This is such a beautiful story that needs to be read by many more people. I love your idea 😭

[doodlelikeme]

[cxffeeandtxaforyxu]

listen up hoes

since weight loss fairies usually don’t work, i’m now setting a curse on anyone who sees this to lose 10-20lbs within the next month, and to get so skinny that their pants are too damn loose on them. 

i’m also cursing you all to have rock hard abs and skinny legs and a cute butt by summertime. 

pass on the curse to another skinny legend.

[earthshakinlove-deactivated2018]

never push me to my limits because I actually will stop giving a fuck

[saltinthewounds]

anyone else here gay and losing their mind 

[just-shower-thoughts]

There are companies that make masturbation tools. They want you to pay them so you can go fuck yourself.

[lovefulls]

The Importance of Being Earnest — Oscar Wilde

[pale-little-ghosty]

“it’s romantic, I swear”

If you are new on Tumblr and are reading this, leave my blog now. Leave it and go find a blog with cute animals or aesthetically pleasing pictures. Because I can assure you, you do not want to be here. This is how it starts.

Everyone acts like we have our shit together and as if “weight loss” is some magical fucking journey with soft pastels and skirts. Where everyone ends up loving you as you “float around the halls like a thin angel”.

Before I continue, I’ll admit it. It lures you in like a sick fucking trap. All those twig thin girls with pretty colours and flowers and aesthetics and whatnot. It shackles you down. Especially young and impressionable girls on here. I was one once. I was 13 when I found Tumblr. 14 when I found this community. When I started looking at these girls, and became obsessed with the idea that they were perfection and I was absolutely fucking worthless. It has ruined me as a person and has controlled my life for 3 years now.

It’s not just “lose weight and the boy you love will scoop your dainty body up and twirl you around” or “you wake up and feel your skinny wrists and delicate frame in the sunlight”.

No. The boy you loved left because you were killing yourself and it scared him too much. Or… he stuck around. And is now watching you suffer while trying to tell you every single day that you’re beautiful. You wake up and notice all the dead hair on your pillow and how badly your stomach hurts. You cry. You don’t stretch to the suns rays, you sob to your own decaying body in a cold, dark bedroom.

And you know you’ve damaged yourself. But go ahead, keep saying how “lovely and angelic” all this shit is. It’s an addiction. This blog, the pictures, the diets, the restricting and starving, this entire lifestyle is addictive. It’s fucking toxic. No part of this is romantic. Anorexia doesn’t lead to love or power. It doesn’t lead to happiness. It’s not flowers or pastels, skinny waists and perfect girls. It’s not boys drooling for you like dogs.

It’s hell on earth. I suggest getting out while you can. Please. You don’t want to be here.