My therapist asked me to create something “motivating” so I made these.
I really love these, and I reblog them every single time. Some of you don’t realize how easy it’s to forget to do some of those stuff or how hard they can be some days.
now i feel like ive actually accomplished something today thank u ily
I have a shoebox full of love letters.
buttons, pocket knives, conversations written in notebooks passed across classrooms. Sealed letters addressed to my future self, written to be opened in a cleaner frame of mind.
A hospital bracelet for every time it mattered.
An “I didn’t do it on purpose” scribbled across sticky notes and paper bags for every time it didn’t.
I am not a sentimental person.
I thought I’d loved before, and I thought I’d love again
I was wrong.
the ease with which those three words fell out of your mouth
was surprisingly unshocking.
Not for lack of hearing it before,
but simply because
I believe you.
How old are you ? I like your tattoo.
22! and thank you!
Today is a big day. After 3 comas and about 15 rounds of Ketoacidosis, I am starting over. I will not cheat myself in life by putting off my recovery. I will not “deal with it tomorrow” or use my weakness as an excuse to damage my body even further. After talking my way out of residential treatment once, my treatment team is insisting that I surrender to the program and be sent away. I will not. This time, it’s on me. I will not be force-fed. I will not be treated like a prisoner. I will not be fattened like a pig before slaughter. I will prove that I can survive on my own, and that I can be thin without balancing on a metaphorical tightrope of life and death. The only thing I love more than being thin is being ALIVE. I can do this.
Bring Ellen to Bozeman! reblog!