☆𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪☆

When you’re curled up in the fetal position in the shower, hot water washing away your shame, staring at your shower curtain and wondering, “is that acne wash or vomit?”, you realize that those pro Ana/mia tumblr posts were lies.

This isn’t beautiful, or artistic, or some sort of poetic suffering. It’s disgusting, it’s horrible, it’s painful. And when you’re sitting in your shower all alone, having just puked your guts out, wondering if you’ve done a good enough job at cleaning the mess, you’ll realize how ugly this disorder is.

Bulimia isn’t beautiful or poetic,

Recovery is.

Your hair gets thin and limp. Noticeably. You don’t have enough nutrients to help it stay healthy.

You get so. Fucking. Cold. All the time. People don’t want to touch you, because you’re so cold. You’ll be shivering under a blanket, in a hot tub, by a fire, wherever you are.

You’ve heard that seeing food will be upsetting? You have no idea. Even if it’s nowhere near you, or on a screen, or in the hands of a stranger, you’ll resent it because you want it. Some nights you’ll start crying because you miss it so much.

Everything will become numbers. You aren’t just walking your dog anymore, you’re counting the minutes and calories you’re burning. You aren’t enjoying a warm day, you’re trying to figure out if the higher temperatures are making your heart rate go up so you burn faster.

Your social life will die. You’ll be skittish and avoid people when they have food in case they offer some. You’ll say no to parties and dates and meet-ups because you think there might be food. You’ll grow paranoid, terrified of people finding out. You’ll start to despise people who love you solely because they want to help.

You’ll hurt. That pang in your chest? It’s probably because you’re not eating. Your stomach? Say goodbye to its silence. Your butt? It’ll hurt whenever you sit down. You’ll get headaches, heart pains, even breathing will eventually become exhausting.

And eventually, you’ll die. Maybe you ate more than usual and couldn’t handle the thought of gaining, and exercised so much that your heart overexerted itself. Maybe you actually did gain, and that enough was enough to make you swallow a handful of pills. Maybe your blood pressure lowered to fatal levels, or maybe you passed out and hit your head on a table.

It all ends the same.

Don’t let the “pro ana’s” fool you, this isn’t a glamorous lifestyle. This is a deadly and painful illness.

I feel like a lot of people need to remember that before they skip their meals.

Don’t do this to yourselves, you gorgeous humans. You deserve to live. You deserve friends. You deserve love.

Food from my master post, this is just so you don’t have to scroll through the whole thing if you didn’t want to on my masterpost

A&W

Applebees

Arbys

Bojangles

Burger King

Bj’s

Carrabas

Cheddars

Chick-Fil-A

Chilis

Chipotle

Chuck E Cheese

Cici’s

Cracker Barrel

Culivers

Dairy Queen/Orange Julius

Denny’s

Dominos

Dunkin Donuts

Fire House Subs

Five Guys

Fuddruckers

Golden Coral

Hard Rock

In and Out Burger

IHOP

Jasons Deli

KFC

Krispy Kreme

Little Caesers

Krystals

Logans Road House

Long Horn Steak House

McAlisters Deli

McDonalds

Movie Theaters

Olive Garden

Outback Steak House

Panda Express

Panera Bread Co.

Papa Johns

Papa Murphys

Pizza Hut

Popeyes

PF Changs

Red Robins (yuUUMMM)

Ruby Tuesday

Sonic

Steak and Shake

Subway

Taco Bell

Texas Road House

Tim Hortons

Waffle House

Wendy’s

White Castle

If you

Ate something

today, or

Tried to eat something

(Even in you think it’s too much)

That is

so

Radical

Please know

You deserve food

Food/weight is not an indicator of your worth or self control

Eating is a good thing!

And that shit is

hard!!

So pat yourself on the back

because you have given your body the

Fuel

it needs to

Survive

I see you, and

What the fuck dude?

Bonus: 

Your hair gets thin and limp. Noticeably. You don’t have enough nutrients to help it stay healthy.

You get so. Fucking. Cold. All the time. People don’t want to touch you, because you’re so cold. You’ll be shivering under a blanket, in a hot tub, by a fire, wherever you are.

You’ve heard that seeing food will be upsetting? You have no idea. Even if it’s nowhere near you, or on a screen, or in the hands of a stranger, you’ll resent it because you want it. Some nights you’ll start crying because you miss it so much.

Everything will become numbers. You aren’t just walking your dog anymore, you’re counting the minutes and calories you’re burning. You aren’t enjoying a warm day, you’re trying to figure out if the higher temperatures are making your heart rate go up so you burn faster.

Your social life will die. You’ll be skittish and avoid people when they have food in case they offer some. You’ll say no to parties and dates and meet-ups because you think there might be food. You’ll grow paranoid, terrified of people finding out. You’ll start to despise people who love you solely because they want to help.

You’ll hurt. That pang in your chest? It’s probably because you’re not eating. Your stomach? Say goodbye to its silence. Your butt? It’ll hurt whenever you sit down. You’ll get headaches, heart pains, even breathing will eventually become exhausting.

And eventually, you’ll die. Maybe you ate more than usual and couldn’t handle the thought of gaining, and exercised so much that your heart overexerted itself. Maybe you actually did gain, and that enough was enough to make you swallow a handful of pills. Maybe your blood pressure lowered to fatal levels, or maybe you passed out and hit your head on a table.

It all ends the same.

Don’t let the “pro ana’s” fool you, this isn’t a glamorous lifestyle. This is a deadly and painful illness.

I feel like a lot of people need to remember that before they skip their meals.

Don’t do this to yourselves, you gorgeous humans. You deserve to live. You deserve friends. You deserve love.

My take on The losers’ club 🎃

jules: wh-

rue: but then i remember if i die, i won’t be able to see you again

jules [blushing]: holy shit…

-

nate: sometimes i feel like dying