Whenever i see that a blog that posts stuff about self-harm, eating disorders, or depression, and they haven’t posted in a couple weeks, i legitimately get scared. I start getting worried that they did something to hurt themselves and all i want to do is just know if they’re okay.
Please reblog this if you would care if someone or anyone took their own life.
(via believeinrecovery)
beautythroughhealth:
Recovery isn’t a joke.
It’s not easy.
It’s DEFINITELY not fun.
It’s not some easy-to-navigate gravel road.
No, you’ve gotta take an axe and cut down your own goddamn trees and make your own goddamn path because there sure as hell isn’t one that’s already cut out for you.
(via rabbitholeafternoon)
I’ve been apologizing for my existence for most of my life. I’ve never even taken myself seriously, when did that start?
I want a cigarette, I want a cigarette, I want a cigarette!!! So damn bad!
So my anxiety gets outta control when we come up to Atlanta and I know it’s because I’m so worried about Trey’s friends and family liking and accepting me. I think a lot of it has to do with my ex on Nantucket, when I was using and how much everyone hated me. Despite myself, I cannot seem to see that I am a different person now. That I don’t lie or cheat or steal. That these people don’t look at me and see a total piece of shit. But it’s like I think they can all see right through me and see that I am not enough and I will never be enough for Trey.
They’re all really kind to me. Well, everyone except for Mama J (Trey’s grandma) but she’s not kind to anyone and I suspect that has a lot more to do with her than it has to do with me.
And they’re all fucking dysfunctional! Trey is an addict, his sister is an addict living in a halfway house. Their stepbrother is an addict! And on and on and on. Even better than that - his grandfather used to sleep with hookers before he found Jesus and his new wife!I mean, for fuck’s sake, I couldn’t make this stuff up! So why do I feel like I don’t measure up with these people? These people who are so welcoming?
Really, his grandparents and his Mom are the worst. I’m not sure why. I don’t know what to say or how to say it. I just want to be appropriate and perfect and look the part, dress the part, act the part and it’s just too much pressure and it starts bubbling inside of me just under my skin and soon I’m boiling over. I can’t breathe or talk or move - all I can do is cry. I don’t want to get myself in that position again and I have taken certain precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen this time. But right now it’s all I can think about. I have way too much free time in the morning when we come here because Trey always sleeps until noon and I can’t - my body just won’t let me. So I sit around the house, on the laptop or reading or journaling or whatever. I need to be busy. I need something to take my mind off all of it.
If anyone is out there - please help!
Just because you think it doesn’t make it true
I hate not smoking. But I love :
- Not having cancer
- Not paying for cancer
- Not smelling like an ashtray
- Not having premature wrinkles
- Having approximately $41 more a week which is $124 a month and $1,488 which you have to admit, is pretty legit
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