TW: extremely depressing (though non self hating) thoughts and non physical but emotional descriptions of anorexia
You really donāt know what itās like unless youāre the type of person thatās experienced the longing for a soft and numbing slow death, caressing you as youāre suffocating.
Depression is kind of like a weighted blanket. Multiply that by the sensation of an ever empty stomach, hugging a pillow with your weakening arms or softly pressing your ribs and hip bones into the mattress as if was a tight hug by another but without the exposure, the feeling like a burden because of your pain. Laying there naked as you feel your cold and vulnerable body be held by the soft and warm bed in a way youāve never been held before as your mind descends into fantasies of concerned and caring voices as they see you wasting away.
To me real anorexia is not a weight goal, nor a calorie limit, thatās more similar to what Iāve experienced when I went through bulimia. What I call anorexia comes with a wave of need, a need to curl up and hide away from this harsh world, a need to feel like the love you receive is actually real, a need for a kind hand on your bony shoulder or a hug of your small waist to feel validating instead of exposing and shameful.
I didnāt have a peaceful childhood. Nor have most of us. I donāt know what it is about me exactly that Iāve romanticized the idea of starvation ever since I was 8 or even younger. Itās been almost 12 years since then and when life gets hard it still washes over me like a wave, a longing to be numb, so intense itās almost romantically sexual.
There is such a deep intimacy to isolation. When it hits me I donāt want to talk to anyone. I especially donāt want my mother to see me, her seeing me not doing well feels like a sharp exposure that Iām a failure or a burden.
I donāt think thinness is beautiful. Especially not in women. I think thereās something rather pathetic to it and thatās exactly what I yearn for. To feel sick, to be sick, to feel cold from the inside out so the blankets and big and soft hoodies keep me warm, as if I got some extra time in my motherās womb before being forced into this cold world. (Fun fact: my birth was a forced C section as well)
To me anorexia always comes hand in hand with depression and isolation. Itās not something I involuntarily suffer but more like a drug I cling onto more than dear life. I use it and create these states because they feel comforting to me but in a way where I also feel what Iām doing is wrong, but thereās something addicting to thinking āoh god what am I doing to myselfā as if I was the victim.
I guess there is no end to this story Iām still figuring out how to navigate this life as a sensitive archetype prone to yearning for a soft self destruction as a form of comfort.
That one shirt with those one pair of baggy jeans, Breaking Bad and The Witcher, Poshlaya Mollyās entire discography and anything cacao and dark chocolate flavored + greek yogurt and tahini
I hate my job so fucking bad it makes me wanna give up on everything besides like idk shit thatās actually fun and smoke cigarettes and drink coffee all day and have my whole diet be cocoa and very dark chocolate
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
kianamaiart
ellievsbear
