23 years old. Queer. New York. BA in Gender Studies. Germanophile, writer, reader (see my books here), feminist, runner, writer, lover, nerd. More about me :) In recovery from an eating disorder; living with PTSD. Trigger warnings always apply, please take gentle care. What's up, babycakes?
How many Calories have I eaten?: Fuck you Ed
I’m Feeling Fat: Fuck you Ed
What do I Weigh?: Fuck you Ed
is my dress size ok?: Fuck you Ed
Thigh gap?: FUCK YOU ED
Stop eating: Fuck you Ed
Look in the mirror: Fuck you Ed
body image distortion: fuck you Ed
I’m worthless: Fuck you Ed.
Always: FUCK YOU ED.
(Source: anabites)
an eating disorder is hating yourself for fifty extra calories, because you ‘didn’t need it’ or ‘don’t deserve it.’
an eating disorder is wishing you could rip out of your skin, tear all the fat off your bones.
an eating disorder is stepping on the scale eight, nine, ten, twelve times a day to see if the number has gone down.
an eating disorder is failing health.
an eating disorder is loneliness, isolation, and misery.
why would anyone want this?
(Source: elmerslube, via life-without-ed)
Hey eating disorder:
These “huge disgusting whale-sized” thighs and this “nauseating, fat, slutty jiggly” ass are how I run four miles.
Suck it.
- Laura
p.s. apparently that’s my “mean” face
i didn’t shower for three days so i could be lovely
bc that’s what real ed gurls do
Speaking of recovery…recently I decided to challenge myself to up my intake on days when I run. My intake has dropped because I have been only eating three meals a day (no snacks). Best way to start this change is with a post-run snack, right? :)
traipsing through the rain in dance clothes and ankle boots because you can’t handle changing in the dance building bathroom where the skinny dance majors might see you
#eatingdisorderproblems
