SW: 146
CW: 118
GW1: 125(reached)
GW2:120(reached)
GW3: 115
UGW: 105
that day still haunts me, every day, every hour, every minute, i have to live with that choice i made. This is the month where i would have met you, where i could have held you in my arms, where my whole life would have changed for better and for worse. But im sure it would’ve been worth it. If it had truly been my choice i never would have gotten rid of you, if the decison didn’t leave us both with nothing and we actually had a chance of surviving i would have done everything differently… im sure i could have figure something out anyway… but i didn’t. I live with the pain of that decision everyday now… and so does he, if it ever matter to him at all… i like to think it did. I like to think im not the only one who is ripped apart by the event that occured, wow… look at me talking as if i was talking to you, i wish i were able to, i wish this so badly, but whats done is done so everyone keeps on telling me. And people wonder why i do the stupid shit i do. Well its to cope, cope with the loss of you, and the fucked up world im living in. Probably not for long. I wish i could do everything differently, whether it left us with nothing or with everything i wish i chose you.
So im a liar and that’s all i’ll ever be… that’s a great thing to hear everyday of my life and people wonder why i do the things i do. Just live a day in my life and i’m sure you will understand.
Post reblogged from Just Listen. with 11,349 notes
My stomach isn’t flat enough. My hip bones don’t stick out enough. My thighs aren’t small enough. My ribs aren’t visible enough. My collar bone doesn’t protrude enough. My arms aren’t thin enough. I’m scared I’ll never be “enough.”
Source: taken-at-a-glance
i talked to this lady today on the phone, it was about free treatment that i could get for my bulimia. She was asking me all these personal questions about my disorder and it made me realize how much i have dropped the ball from last year and how i have gained weight again. Then she also had me talk about my last cutting. It was long ago, probably a could days after the new years incident. We talked about why i did it, how i felt so alone, how me not being able to understand what had happened to me and people just saying forget and move on, how noone understood how me missing a huge ass chunk of time isnt that easy to just move on from. How alone and hopeless i felt and how i cut up my arm that day. Just think back on it made me relive that helplessness and made me think of cutting again, made me feel so helpless again….
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