Be Brave 💞

[meanwhilepoetry]

An interesting little fact:

Hot water will turn into ice

faster than cold water will.

And every survivor I have met is water-

we learn to adapt, force ourselves to fit into whatever life-vessel we are put in.

In other words, when our rage

is unheard, when our cries

dismissed, when they clamp

their hands around our mouths

to stop the truth of our trauma

from seeking justice,

let them watch,

let them see

as we quickly turn from water to ice,

a whole avalanche

advancing towards them

about to bury them alive.

Nikita Gill, Vote

[meanwhilepoetry]

[positiveautistic-deactivated202]

Be gentle with yourself, you are healing.

[drawandchill]

When they say ‘trust your instincts’ but you have bpd

[lifeofrecoveringed]

The day I recovered

just a small reminder that recovery is worth it 

The day I recovered, I went out with my friends without having to check out the menu or find a ‘safe’ restaurant nearby on my laptop the day before. I just went out: had ice cream, pasta and pizza just like my friends and I had an amazing time. 

The day I recovered, I decided to workout with a smile across my face laughing at the challenges I met along the way. I felt the joy of being both mentally and physically stronger. There was no dizziness, sleepiness or tears of pain. I paused my workout video to rest and I was able to continue when I was ready again. 

The day I recovered, I went out to restaurants and was not the last one to order because I did not have to spend more time ordering my meal: asking for alternatives because I did not ‘like’ it or because I had ‘restrictions’ 

The day I recovered, I didn’t need to bug my mom about calling the airline for a low-salt meal because I was able to, without being anxious, spontaneously decide on what to eat when the flight attendant asked me. I chose what I wanted and did not spend hours searching and guess what might be on my plate during the flight. 

The day I recovered, I spend my money on the things I liked and not just on food: clothes, make up and others. I did not spend hundreds buying ‘clean’ ‘healthy’ food just because there were nutritional labels or because it was healthier or lower in calorie. I could buy local foods without knowing the calories and did not solely rely my cravings on the numbers on the nutrition label. 

The day I recovered, I felt the pain of being a women again. The cramps and the change of pads. The joys of eating massive portions and laugh at myself after. My body was able to use the food and did not need to eat away my muscles to survive. I could join in conversations with other girls/women about periods without having to fake that I was going through the exact same problem. 

The day I recovered, I did not have to go to the hospital for check-ups: ultrasounds, gynecologist, psychologist, blood testing and weigh-ins. I could use the time to enjoy doing my hobbies and spend time with family and friends.

The day I recovered, I was not embarrassed in ordering something healthier or something different to other people. Instead, I stood up to myself and told the world that, 

“I’m a recovered anorexic. I climbed mountains and failed. I wanted to die but I decided not to. I starved myself, I was scared of food. I went through tremendous pain both physically and mentally. But I’m proud of myself because today, the food on my plate, was what I wanted and not the demon inside my head.” 

[syntacked]

“We all grew up and did things we said we’d never do.”

— A 12 word autobiography (via syntacked)

[edrecoveryprobs]

The next therapy session after I accidentally brought up some painful, deep-seated issues

(x)

[traintracks-for-wrists]

So you’re feeling suicidal…

I’m not going to sugar coat it; it happens, especially for those of us suffering from BPD, Depression, and other mood and anxiety disorders.

And sometimes, it’s really fucking scary

So here’s my unsolicited advice to you; take it or leave it

*Personally, when I get really suicidal, like the “shit the rope is around my neck” or “the pills are in my hand just fucking take them” the last thing on my mind is “how can I save myself”, so…

Step 1: fight the urge. Survive the near attempt. Find a fucking ounce of hope that convinces you to live

*this can be anything, ie: because I love fuzzy sweaters, or because there is so much art I haven’t done

Step 2: ok, so you survived the near attempt, or very scary serious thoughts. Chances are, you’re still feeling pretty agitated, depressed, suicidal, or an impossibly infinite number of emotions. For me, the next step is to focus on something other than myself

*I use an app called “Calm Harm”. It is intended for self harm, but works equally as well for suicidal urges. It gives you suggestions and different tools to help pass the urge to self-destruct. Some are distractors, expressive outlets, or meditative techniques.

Step 2.5: if the urge does not pass, remove yourself from the unsafe environment. I cannot stress the importance or genuine effectiveness of this tool. Go to the library. Take a walk. Do what you have to do.

Step 3: When I manage to ride the wave, pass the urge, I am almost always left feeling numb, emotionless, and terrified of my own mind-more often than not, this makes me want to self harm.

If you are left feeling like you want to self harm, return to step 2: ride the wave, wait for the urge to pass.

If you do self harm- don’t beat yourself up about it. It happens, and usually it’s not the end of the world. However, if you do self harm, please take care of yourself afterwords

Step 4: if you’re feeling like you are able to, or if the option is feasible, remove the dangerous objects from your room; ie. pills, ropes, knives, razor blades, etc.

This can be a difficult step to take. Push yourself to take it, but make sure you take baby steps. Removing all coping mechanisms (such as cutting) can make things worse in the long run. So take it slow. Start with putting your pills in the bathroom so that they aren’t there to temp you, or moving the ropes to the garage. You’ll get there, but give yourself time.

Step 5: Self Care. Whether that is cleaning the wounds, making some tea, curling up with a good book or taking a nap, self care is key. You made it. You can do this. This is not the end of your story.

Being suicidal is no easy feat, and each and every time you get through that battle, you are one step closer to winning this war.

I’m proud of you for making it through those feelings and this post.

You are strong.

You are important.

You have an amazing future.

You just have to do is survive long to find it 🖤

[embracingwild]

The middle of recovery is awful. It does not feel good. There are moments where it will be clear why you are doing this, ones that will take your breath away. But a majority of the time you will question everything, your thoughts will be racing so much that you will feel like you can’t breathe. You will spend countless days wondering why things can’t be quiet, wondering why you are bothering to work so hard when not fighting would be effortless. Recovery does not feel good. If you are looking around you and are ashamed because you are not in love with this process, please, listen to me. Take a deep breath- It’s okay. It’s okay to hate it. It’s okay to say it sucks. It’s okay to want to give up, to struggle immensely, to be angry, to be uncomfortable (you should be!). and it’s okay to not understand why your smile still feels empty when your stomach is full again. Recovery does not feel good. For goodness sake, I hate it!!! Do not mistake my positivity for perfection. I am not walking through this fire gracefully. I burn and fall and become ashes. And every morning I rise and face the flames over and over again.

So please, do not beat yourself up if you are feeling like a failure for not being happy and perfect. Healing is not linear. And you are still brave.

[lifeofrecoveringed]

The day I recovered

just a small reminder that recovery is worth it 

The day I recovered, I went out with my friends without having to check out the menu or find a ‘safe’ restaurant nearby on my laptop the day before. I just went out: had ice cream, pasta and pizza just like my friends and I had an amazing time. 

The day I recovered, I decided to workout with a smile across my face laughing at the challenges I met along the way. I felt the joy of being both mentally and physically stronger. There was no dizziness, sleepiness or tears of pain. I paused my workout video to rest and I was able to continue when I was ready again. 

The day I recovered, I went out to restaurants and was not the last one to order because I did not have to spend more time ordering my meal: asking for alternatives because I did not ‘like’ it or because I had ‘restrictions’ 

The day I recovered, I didn’t need to bug my mom about calling the airline for a low-salt meal because I was able to, without being anxious, spontaneously decide on what to eat when the flight attendant asked me. I chose what I wanted and did not spend hours searching and guess what might be on my plate during the flight. 

The day I recovered, I spend my money on the things I liked and not just on food: clothes, make up and others. I did not spend hundreds buying ‘clean’ ‘healthy’ food just because there were nutritional labels or because it was healthier or lower in calorie. I could buy local foods without knowing the calories and did not solely rely my cravings on the numbers on the nutrition label. 

The day I recovered, I felt the pain of being a women again. The cramps and the change of pads. The joys of eating massive portions and laugh at myself after. My body was able to use the food and did not need to eat away my muscles to survive. I could join in conversations with other girls/women about periods without having to fake that I was going through the exact same problem. 

The day I recovered, I did not have to go to the hospital for check-ups: ultrasounds, gynecologist, psychologist, blood testing and weigh-ins. I could use the time to enjoy doing my hobbies and spend time with family and friends.

The day I recovered, I was not embarrassed in ordering something healthier or something different to other people. Instead, I stood up to myself and told the world that, 

“I’m a recovered anorexic. I climbed mountains and failed. I wanted to die but I decided not to. I starved myself, I was scared of food. I went through tremendous pain both physically and mentally. But I’m proud of myself because today, the food on my plate, was what I wanted and not the demon inside my head.” 

[recovery-vs-relapse19]

anxiety attacks aren't always hyperventilating and rocking back and forth

Anxiety attacks can take different forms, such as:

•Unpredictable bouts of rage or irritability

•Nit-pickiness (obsessive behavior, which may be a part of OCD), and even a hypersensitivity to disarray, chaos, or any sort of change.

•Fast-talking, stuttering, stumbling over words.

•Not talking at all.

•Sitting rigid, staring into space, almost seeming "zoned out."

Understanding the way our or others anxiety works can help to decrease the stigma and help calm a person faster and get them out of that state. There are just a few, but it gives an idea of the range in which attacks can come.

[mindcharity]

Tips for self-care for BPD. For more info and to follow the links go here. 

[cwote]

[fishyandclintbarton]

Because we all need to hear this sometimes.

I’ve been having a bad couple of weeks and I just really needed to hear these:

You are NOT a burden

You are valued 

You are NOT a shitty friend, even when you think you are

You don’t need to have it all figured out yet

It’s OK to have bad days

And it’s OK to hide from the world if you’re having a bad day

Because sometimes you just need to have some time to yourself

And that’s OK

You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to

What happened to you in the past is NOT your fault

Don’t feel guilty for not being productive

It’s going to be OK

Breathe

Relax

Recharge

YOU ARE WANTED

YOU ARE LOVED

YOU CAN DO THIS

I BELIEVE IN YOU

[alentador]

Beauty is not long hair, skinny legs, tanned skin or perfect teeth. Believe me. Beauty is the face of who cried and now smiles, beauty is the scar on your knee since you fell when you were a kid, beauty is the circles when love doesn’t let you sleep, beauty is the expression on the face when the alarm rings in the morning, it’s the melted makeup when you have a shower, it’s the laughter when you make a joke you’re the only one who can understand, beauty is meeting his gaze and stopping understanding, beauty is your gaze when you see him, it’s when you cry for all you paranoias, beauty is the lines marked by time. Beauty is what we feel in the inside which also shows outside us. Beauty is the marks the life leaves on us, all the kicks and the caresses the memories leave us. Beauty is letting yourself live.

Emma Watson.    (via alunit)

[thelifeofhana-deactivated201410]

things you shouldn't feel guilty about:

enjoying food

feeling full

eating more than someone else

taking a second serving

eating until you are full

nourishing your body

not liking a certain food

eating a food for its taste, not its health benefit

food in general

[dothenextrighthing]

no one talks about the middle ground in recovery. everyone talks about the really really good days where all the feelings are allowed to grow and expand in order to pass through, food is digested, and buildings could be built in honor of the successes. or, we talk about the really really bad days, where tears drip like faucets we don’t have the energy to fix, progress is flushed down the pipes, and the sorrow sends shards of glass from between the windowpanes. the best and the worst of days are all we can bring ourselves to mention. and why would we want to talk about those other days? a sort of ‘no man’s land’, as it were. it’s those days when you are stuck in mud up to your knees and you don’t feel sick but you don’t feel well. when you’ve run out of new people to tell. no one feels sorry as you cry over a bowl of ice cream - again - no one has the time unless you are turning death’s doorknob. no one talks about being in the trenches of recovery. digging for months on end, whistling the same tune for weeks and weeks. no one likes a scratched record, but a broken record gets worried glances and hospital threats. and sometimes, in no man’s land, a threat sounds like it would be better than this fucking silence. no one talks about inching through recovery one bite, one meal, one moment at a time. and this is a problem. because we don’t talk about it, we don’t realize everything we are accomplishing as we pass through this desert. the constant attention and concern is gone and the formal celebration is not yet upon us. in between those times, think about all we are doing. who is with you? you. you’re learning to be there for yourself, to befriend your body, to live the life you’ve been avoiding for weeks, months, years. you are doing all your parents couldn’t do for you. you are learning to show up for yourself. to comfort yourself in the joys that no one sees and the subtle despair no one understands. i am in no man’s land. i am not living for my eating disorder anymore. and i’m not recovered yet. i’m in recovery. i am in no man’s land. and just when i was able to be alone, was i able to find myself.

j.l.g. (

@dothenextrighthing

)

THIS THIS THIS OMG I feel this with every fiber of my being

(via recoveringonebiteatatime)