it is not your fault if you fail. you are made up of billions of cells. it is their fault
the fault in our cells
you can’t go on looking at the word “fault” without being okay. Okay?
Seriously! Every time I see the word “fault” or say “okay” it brings up the feelings!
I FEEL SO SORRY FOR THE POOR SOULS WHO WILL GO WATCH THE FAULT IN OUR STARTS WITHOUT READING THE BOOK FIRST.
THEY WILL NOT BE PREPARED
THERE WILL BE ANXIETY ATTACKS IN THE THEATRE
FIRES WILL START
REVOLUTIONS WILL BEGIN
FOR GOD’S SAKE
DON’T PRETEND WE ARE PREPARED
WE ARE NOT
WE WILL NOT BE PREPARED TO WATCH THE WHOLE THING UNFOLD
IF YOU THINK YOU ARE PREPARED
YOU ARE LYING
pretty much… I couldn’t even handle the trailer
I only found about about Tfios because of Tumblr. I stayed up all night reading because i couldn’t stand not knowing how it ended. The movie will be stunning.
Gosh, it’s been so long since I actually posted. I apologize for that. I could only get onto tumblr from my phone and that is really no fun to post from.
I’ve started cutting again. Except it’s okay because it’s not lines. Both my dad and best friend said that if I was going to cut anyways I should cut a pattern or something pretty. Three stars and a flower later I don’t want to do anything “pretty”. I want to cut for real. I want to cut deep. I want to cut so deep it needs stitches. God, I miss stitches. They made me feel like I could hold on a little while longer. I don’t think I could get away with stitches as I’ve only just gotten out of the hospital and they might just send me back in.
So… Instead my ED has gotten progressively worse. It doesn’t help the same way cutting and getting stitches does but it helps numb the pain. I’m only happy when I have a negative net calorie count. I’ve worked out for nearly 2 hours today and I still have energy but I have to be careful so my parents don’t catch on.
Hope you’re doing okay, lovelies!
Reasons why I’m going to lose weight:
1) I HATE my shadow.
2) My dad talked about my “muffin top”
3) I want to be pretty
I was bored today and seriously considered cutting for something to do. I just realized now I couldn’t even if I wanted to because my blade is a good five hours away, not in my bag like I thought. Well, that was upsetting.
When you decide to die, little things begin to happen. You stop looking both ways before you cross the street, you start answering the door without asking who’s there. You don’t hold onto the railing when you go down the escalator, you play with matches. You smoke, and breathe it in, actually praying it will make a difference. Deciding to die is actually almost nice, in a way. You stop caring. Even if you are not pro-actively looking for ways to kill yourself, you stop looking for ways to survive.
*Not my words. I couldn’t make it work. Sorry.*
Two terrible feelings when you’re a cutter:
1.) Not having any clean, unscarred skin in places where you can cut.
2.) Not being absolutely certain you know where your tool is when someone walks into the room where you were injuring.