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Anonymous asked:

Hi, I'm really sorry, I know you probably won't even read this. I've got depression and I've been clean of self harm for about two weeks now but the urges have been getting bad tonight and I just want to die and nothing is helping. I just need a reason not to cut. If it's only hurting me then what's the point in stopping? I'm sorry, I sound stupid. Sorry.

Of course I read all of these. 3 Chances are, you’re a beautiful person with more people that care about you then you even know about. Everyone has those days where you’re feeling more down then the day before, but you just need to pick your head up and look at all the positives. I’m here if you need anyone.


Anonymous asked:

Hi, um, I need to tell my boyfriend that I've been self harming again and I promised him that I'd tell him if I did but I first relapsed when we were in a rough spot. Now we're good again I need to tell him but it's so hard! :( nay advice?

It’s best to be honest with him. It’s better to tell him rather than him to see them for himself. When you’re with eachother just say, “Okay, so you know when we have a rough patch a while back? Well I relapsed. And I’m sorry.” Hope this helps!

At first, I had trouble dating a girl who was recovering from an eating disorder. I couldn’t get by the fact that I may not ever be able to treat her to a nice dinner because she simply could not go out. I hated sitting by and watching her as she ignored the compliments I gave her and constantly commented on how she wished to look like “that girl”, or “her over there”. And it used to bother me that there were so many things she just couldn’t eat.
Then I realized that eating out wasn’t important in a relationship like ours. What was important was our meals together at home, and how I knew exactly what to make her every night. How we sat together at the beginning of each week and spent at most an hour at a time planning the meals we would share. How appreciative she looked when I refused to sit in silence at the table to keep her from focusing on the calories that entered her body.
I almost enjoyed that I knew exactly what she couldn’t eat, and I soon got past the fact that we might not ever be able to order pizza from domino’s on a Friday night while we watched Harry Potter in the living room. All I cared about eventually was helping her, and that was what a relationship should be like.
I loved her so much that I could stand the nights where she stood in front of the mirror and cried, and it would tear my heart to pieces when she would ask me why I could ever love someone that looked like her. I would hold her, I wouldn’t tell her she was beautiful more than once or twice, and that was all. I trusted her and she I enough that we could sit together every night and she could tell me whether or not she had thrown up her lunch, even if I already knew because I was so scared that I watched her after every meal. Even if I knew, though, I never stopped her, because they were her battles, and I knew that no matter how much it hurt, me fighting them for her wouldn’t help.
Soon enough though, I saw that she became more confident. Her trips to the restroom following meals became fewer until I could relax, knowing that there was a good chance she was safe. There were less times when she looked at the mirror and pinched fat that was actually only skin. Finally, she asked me to take her out for dinner. Finally, we ordered domino’s on a Friday night and watched Harry Potter.
And that, that’s what love is.

Anonymous (via generati0n-hate)

That is beautiful
Absolutely Beautiful

(via ourdaysarenumbered13)

(Source: tragicalities)


My parents spent half our dinner talking about one of their friend’s daughter’s anorexia and about how terrible it is that young girls feel the need to starve themselves to be thin, and then spent the other half of our dinner criticizing me for wearing shorts because I’m apparently ‘a big girl’ and ‘don’t have the body for clothes like that.’ If that’s not fucked up I don’t know what is. 

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