Stripes and Polka dots

notcrazyorg:

scars-fade-love-stays:

I made this because I’m really sick and tired of the stereotype that only skinny privileged middle-class white girls self-harm. That’s just not true. Statistics will tell you that this demographic is more likely to engage in self-harm but those numbers represent what is found and reported, not what is done. Frankly, there hasn’t been much research on the subject anyway. Self-harm is present in all different genders, sexes, sexual orientations, ethnicities, races, ages, and backgrounds. It also occurs in all different forms. In this image I portrayed the most common form, which is cutting, but self harm exists in many other forms including burning, hitting/punching, head banging, hair pulling, skin picking, and more. Don’t assume.

Mental illness and self-harm are not exclusive to people of a certain race, gender, age, or socioeconomic class. Diseases do not pick who they affect and people do not get to pick which diseases they are affected

notcrazyorg:

scars-fade-love-stays:

I made this because I’m really sick and tired of the stereotype that only skinny privileged middle-class white girls self-harm. That’s just not true. Statistics will tell you that this demographic is more likely to engage in self-harm but those numbers represent what is found and reported, not what is done. Frankly, there hasn’t been much research on the subject anyway. Self-harm is present in all different genders, sexes, sexual orientations, ethnicities, races, ages, and backgrounds. It also occurs in all different forms. In this image I portrayed the most common form, which is cutting, but self harm exists in many other forms including burning, hitting/punching, head banging, hair pulling, skin picking, and more. Don’t assume.

Mental illness and self-harm are not exclusive to people of a certain race, gender, age, or socioeconomic class. Diseases do not pick who they affect and people do not get to pick which diseases they are affected

(via notcrazyorg)

lovinggymnastics:

kaskamarina:

officialunitedstates:

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!

(via lovingymnastics-deactivated2014)

lovinggymnastics:

dimitrikozlovsky:

fairyfoolishness:

ohtentoo:

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.

(Source: fuckingmulder, via lovingymnastics-deactivated2014)

“But depression is not a sudden disaster. It is more like a cancer: At first its tumorous mass is not even noticeable to the careful eye, and then one day — wham! — there is a huge, deadly seven-pound lump lodged in your brain or your stomach or your shoulder blade, and this thing that your own body has produced is actually trying to kill you. Depression is a lot like that: Slowly, over the years, the data will accumulate in your heart and mind, a computer program for total negativity will build into your system, making life feel more and more unbearable. But you won’t even notice it coming on, thinking that it is somehow normal, something about getting older, about turning eight or turning twelve or turning fifteen, and then one day you realize that your entire life is just awful, not worth living, a horror and a black blot on the white terrain of human existence. One morning you wake up afraid you are going to live.”
— Elizabeth Wurtzel (Prozac Nation)

(Source: iamcharliesangel, via covered-in-bandaids)

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.

urltima:

For all the boys out there. I’m sorry it took so long to make this. But here you go, guys, you’re not alone.

To all the boys and men who suffer in silence. You’re not alone. You can get better. You will survive.

(via im-waiting-for-neverland)

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.*

(Source: loveamongowls, via burning-l1ghts)

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.

Awful.