(Source: laurtobi)
Back To Top
“That paradox would begin to ruin my life: to know what you are doing is hurting you, maybe killing you, and to be afraid of that fact- but to cling to the idea that this will save you, it will, in the end, make things okay.”-Marya Hornbacher, Wasted
height: 5'4"
age: 21
sex: f
hw: 125
lw: 82
cw: 95.4 (aug.2.11)
gw: 75 and then keep going.
its over. i will now silently saunter off stage before this whole thing makes me crazier than it already has.
its so sick. i don’t fucking trust you. you don’t even try to seem like i should trust you. what am i doing sitting here trying to trust a liar??? liars. the type of people i hate. absolutely hate. the most. what am i doing?
i love you, but we’re just not right for each other. you are too weak minded. i am too weak minded. we will eventually just bring each other down. and i don’t want to follow you down. nor do i want you to follow me down. we need to find people that are strong. i can’t do anything for you. you can’t do anything for me. you can’t even love me the right way. it’s just all too desperate. in a bad way. i think the good desperate type of love exists only in movies. i think love in real life.. the good kind.. is the easy kind. i hope that you don’t die. i do love you very much, with all of my broken heart.
throw up all day everyday. had a total emotional breakdown over having no control. off to make my offerings to the porcelain god again. i hate myself.
much to say. but they are the wrong things to say. i miss you too. i miss you dreadfully. i try to tell myself that you are ugly and mean. ugly and selfish. that you are rotten. that you are mentally ill. but mainly i try to look at your pictures and tell myself that you are so ugly, on the inside and the outside. i ask myself, “what was i thinking?”
but it doesn’t work. i love you.. i hate everything about you. i wish you were here. i wish you could hold me and say that you are so sorry. i wish you could tell me everything is going to be alright. because this time you mean it. you do love me and you won’t ever leave again.
but i’d never believe you. that’s why it doesn’t matter if i love you to death and that i miss you so terribly. i believe that you never loved me. i don’t think that you are capable of loving anyone. i’d do it all again. but right now. i’m too tired. i’m trying to die and it’s taking all of my energy.
i love you so much, i can’t bear it. i think it’s one of the reasons why i’m trying so hard to disappear.
the mirror, i do realize that i have lost too much weight. i do realize that i do not look good. i do see that i am too thin. i do think that i should gain weight. i do think that curvier women look more attractive. so why can’t i stop? why can’t i make myself eat? why am i scared of food? i can’t sleep. i can’t eat. i can’t understand myself. what is this strange hatred for my body and of myself? why does the realization of the fact that a size 24 is too big for me tingle my whole body with satisfaction and guilty pleasure? what am i doing? what am i trying to accomplish? sometimes i feel too thin and i feel sad. broken. helpless. other times i feel massive. what? how does any of this make sense? am i going insane? maybe this time i will surly die..
many ruptured vessels that i look like i have a fucking eye/skin disease. wtf.
why does an “i must binge” switch go off when i’m home alone????
like wth? i don’t even like peanut butter…
