I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
Bore da, love.
This is my real blog, the one no one knows about. I'm staying anon, merely using it to say what I can't. This started as a weight loss blog, and still is, a bit. But it's also my rant blog, or my daydream blog, or my shoulder to cry on. Welcome to inside my head.
My dirty little secrets lie within.
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
confessionsabouteatingdisorders:
They know I skip meals so I don’t have to gain weight, and they always force food down my throat, but I hate it when they do this. Because it actually makes me feel GOOD that they want to help me, but I continue to do this to myself. I am so fucking revolted…

(via watchasifadeaway)
confessionsabouteatingdisorders:
I barely eat most days, and when I do… I honestly feel like I’m about to die. It is like this is eating at my soul… and no matter what I do, no matter how much I don’t eat… Nothing is going to change how freaking fat I am.
confessionsabouteatingdisorders:
They tell me I’m skinny. They tell me I don’t need to lose weight. They tell me all sorts of nice things. What they don’t understand is that no matter how many times they say is not doing anything. They think it makes me feel better but it doesn’t. I wish it did. I really do. If all these people think i’m so perfect why can’t I?
confessionsabouteatingdisorders:
Was it from the piece of chocolate I ate when I hadn’t had any type of candy in so long? Was it from the urge to purge what I had just consumed? Was it from the anxiety of eating something? Or am I actually ill? These aren’t really questions I should have to ask.
no one would notice.