Chloe 3h
She is a monster in the back of my head.
Every bite of food fills me with dread.
“Don’t eat that, you’re already so fat.”
“0 calories a day will make your stomach flat.”
She comes to me in my dreams,
So sickly, so thin.
Her name is Ana.
She is the demon within.
She will pretend to be your friend
Just to get inside your head;
And she will hold on tight.
She will cover you in darkness.
She will mock you out of spite.
She does not forgive.
She does not forget.
Letting her in will be your biggest regret.
TRIGGER WARNING: ED/NUMBERS.
I’ve been struggling for the past few month and I haven’t talked to anyone about it because I’m afraid people will think I’m seeking attention.
I am not trying to glamorize eating disorders in any way. If you are also struggling, stay strong. You can beat this. ❤️
Erika 13h
I honestly don’t think getting your ass beat as a kid and school shootings have any correlation. There are like a million and one external factors that affect children and young adults in their everyday life. Kids these days are exposed to things like riots, violence in their household, seeing mass shootings on television, and most importantly to me, is that a lot of kids struggle internally with depression, anxiety and addiction. Because of posts like this. A lot of adults have the “it worked for me” mentality.

But we didn’t grow up hoping that our friends don’t get shot in front of us. We didn’t grow up susceptible to the fear of ourselves. Our classmates. Our friends.

It has to change. Is what I’m trying to say. It’s a different time. These kids are different than us.
Well, yeah.
Sam 21h
I’M FEELING IT AGAIN.

ALL THE FUCKING NAUSEA

Do ya ever feel that way?

You probably have a few times in your life.

But have ya ever felt it CONSTANTLY?

Every.
Single.
Fucking.
Day.
I feel it.

Sometimes it’s for a few hours.

But a lot of the time, it’s all damn day.

ALL DAMN DAY.

I’m so uncomfortable all the time.

Because of NAUSEA.

FUCKING NAUSEA.

Forgive me for being a little bitter.

I’m just a little<a lot>nauseated.
I’m so frustrated with my constant nausea feeling. Ugh.
sophia 1d
engulf me
drown me
submerge me
find a way into every crevice
of my face, my hands, my body

spend time with me
get to know why i'm always awake at 3 am
and why the dark terrifies me

know all my secrets
to the point that i'll feel bare
even when i'm fully clothed

love me
hate me
take control of me
leave me broken and bruised
more than i'll ever be
another kind of love story
Have you ever wanted to scream,
To yell,
To shout,
Until you couldn’t say another word?

Have you ever wanted to speak your mind,
Your opinions,
Your heart,
Although no one would listen?

When you wanted speak,
To utter,
To whisper,
Just to hear reassurance.

Instead you are quite.
Not a whisper,
Not a word,
But they wouldn’t know.

But it’s just your mind,
A thousand words,
A thousand pictures,
A thousand stories.

Or how your home,
Lost it meaning.
Or how your touch,
Lost it’s feeling.

But no one ever tells you,
In the darkest of night,
That when the world is silent,
Only the loudest,
Are the screams of the forgotten.
Gemma 2d
Imagine
Building up your status just for thrill of the fall you pray for ,
You found being predictable more than miserable ,
as if it was some sort of torture that separated the vulnerability and the ignorance in your eyes,
It took your guard down and allowed an insight
to your truly isolated life that you save for your midnight breakdowns.
A thought-
You , between the sheets , a layer of sweat is your protection ,
you lay shaken , short , shivering,
Your immune system has created a new sort of infection ,
that can only cause destruction towards yourself and the ones you choose to let in .
They had always called you out for your perfection
But looking in the mirror,
At your own reflection,
You can only see what you've done to yourself
and you've never felt so ugly in your life.
However , that is only a thought-
And a thought isn't always right.
I thought beauty was plain and simple until my friends couldn't see the beauty that belongs to you.
your scars -  a road map;
sad, endless tales spreading far
of battles once fought.
The walls were closing in on me
Where the floor was rising
And the ceiling was sinking
Determined to suppress me to dust
A Chinese puzzle box
That’s more of a trap
Than a puzzle
For me to waste my time
Fiddling with the padlock
When there is no code
Discovering the key
When there is no hole
Turning the knob
When there is no door
An unsolvable problem
That I kept on trying to solve
Until my room was a box
And my box was a prison
And my prison was my life
Determined to suppress me to dust.
Laura 4d
I took too many busporine,
But I'm still anxious.
I'm still fucking freaked.  
I'm still nervously shaking.
I'm still sputtering about.
I'm still worried why you haven't opened my message.

I know this whole thing is new.
I know you're probably sleeping.
I know you have a life outside of me.
I know you sometimes need a break from me.
But my anxiety doesn't.

My anxiety doesn't get that you're busy.
Anxiety doesn't get that you're sleeping.
Anxiety doesn't get that maybe you just want some space.
Anxiety doesn't get that I didn't do anything wrong,
And that your feelings for me haven't changed.

Anxiety is scared.
Anxiety is panicking.
Anxiety is popping one too many pills.
Anxiety is crying and trying not to cut again.
Anxiety is worrying that you've found someone else.
Anxiety is worried that you're out with them now and just ignoring me until you're horny later tonight.

Jesus Christ, Anxiety.
Give me a break,
Quit giving me a battle.
Jesus fucking Christ, Anxiety.
Take a deep breath,
Try to stay rational.
Jesus FUCKING Christ, Anxiety.
I'm trying to salvage a relationship here,
And ruin the one I have with you.
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