(via 88istheperfectweight)
(Source: sickly-thin, via hideouslythin)
(via aetherius)
(Source: killingmyskeletons, via sticklyyy)
(via rrribs)
(Source: missing-bones, via aetherius)
I stumbled upon an old photo which was similar to an actual one. I placed them next to each other and was deeply saddened by the amount of destruction and hatred against my body. It only took a few months to get there but I’ve never seen any difference in my reflection no matter how much weight I have actually lost. You just lose one’s grip to reality. I never wanted to ‘fit in’ or to make myself ‘beautiful’, but I thought it would make me happy. I only yearned for happiness. And if it wouldn’t make me happy, I wanted to look at least as sick, fragile and needy as I felt.
Today there is no meaning anymore. The dirtiness that comes with an eating disorder will never make you happy. It is just an illness, a discomforting addiction which keeps me alive and kills me slowly at the same time.
this is really powerful
(via aetherius)
(via hideouslythin)
(via missmairaisabel)
(via aetherius)
