wordswritteninsilence

It must have been an epiphany when I wrote this; “write. write true. write free.”

I shall say the same to you.

If the pain you feel will heal through your words; write.

If your tomorrows can be brighter through the words which spill onto the page, from your pen; write.

If you want to free yourself from the shackles of yesterday; write.

Write whatever is in your heart, my dear. If someone passes judgement on your words for its content, their eyes aren’t worth your words.

Freedom, my darling; it is yours, in your flesh, in your mind, in your heart, in your soul and most definitely in your words.

Navin E. (on why you must keep writing)

This.

Someone very close to me recently mentioned that I’m ‘out of shape’ and maybe I should work out more. This was/is constructive criticism, right? Except all I heard was ‘you’re fat, and this makes you ugly’. I won’t go into all the details of that conversation, but suffice to say, it upset me - a lot. To the point of wanting to hide the body that I had a really hard time accepting. To the point where I considered fasting for days on end and generally going back to the days of torturing myself with starvation and over work and general depression.

It’s been almost a month since that conversation, and I’ve spent every waking moment since then hating every inch of myself, every ounce of fat, every bump and curve and stretch mark. I’ve had nightmares involving horrible, horrible things, which I won’t write here because it makes me sick to my stomach to even think about it. But, I’ll be honest, it’s all I think about. I’m beginning to feel worthless, more so than usual. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to look at myself. I don’t want anyone else to look at me. 

Every morsel of food that passes my lips brings massive amounts of guilt, I’m terrified to eat, I’m so stressed out with eating/guilt that I’ve been unable to keep most of my food down. I want it to stay down, I know it should, but somehow I’m getting sick just thinking about what’s inside my stomach and how it’s affecting what’s on the outside. (I am eating - relatively healthy food - and I promise I’m not making myself sick, I’d have checked myself in by now if I was doing that. I worked hard to battle my EDs, and I’m working even harder to stay healthy).

I’ve spent the last two week training like crazy - weight lifting, cardio, generally punishing myself for the sake of ‘being skinny’ - and it hasn’t made one bit of difference. (It’s okay, I understand that this won’t be an overnight transformation, it’s just the insecure emotional part of my brain won’t believe that).

Yesterday I was convinced that I could see a slight - very slight - improvement. And then today I tried on a dress that is quite body hugging, and I felt disgusting. 

I feel disgusting. 

I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to look at myself in the mirror and see something that my personal trainer keeps telling me isn’t there. My friends keep telling me I’m beautiful, and I have a wonderful figure, and that I don’t need to feel the way I do about myself. And I swear I’m trying really hard to believe them, but I just can’t seem to see what they say they see. 

I don’t know what to do. Or how to feel. Or how to convince myself that I’m not what I think I am. 

I had to get this out of my system, because it’s getting to the point where I can’t hide the disgust I feel at myself, and this is the only place I feel safe talking about it. 

Terrific Tuesday

  • Random jamming sesh with my personal trainer
  • Conversations, tea, coffee and cake
  • Playing football with my gorgeous (and growing up way too fast) nephew
  • Beginning to feel less self conscious about working out in front of other people
  • Even managing to laugh at the ridiculous Pilates & Yoga poses when other people laugh at me
  • Accepting that my demons may be here, but they have no power over me
  • Re-stringing, tuning and learning new chords
  • One day closer to seeing the boyf
  • One day closer to roadtrips with amazing people
  • One day closer to the Viking festival
  • Bubble bath and books
howitzerliterarysociety
You should make yourself into what you want to be. You’re only here for a short time. And even if you get reincarnated you’re not going to remember this time now but in vague echoes. You should make yourself into what you want to be even if people around you think it’s impossible or tragedy strikes you. Tragedy striking you is the very reason to do this because life is too much bullshit to let it have it’s way with you all the time. You don’t owe angry people explanations and you don’t have to check first with people to see if what you want is legitimate. Plenty of people fail playing it extra safe and they all say the same thing, “should have done…” You can be one of those people, fine. But if you live out your life and all you have going for it are stellar employee performance reviews, just….god damn man. It’s not even your name on the building.

Dig Yourself (via howitzerliterarysociety)

- Digging It

samueljamesobrien
Meet new people. Go to their houses. Look at their bookshelves. Pay attention to how they take their coffee. Don’t get into bed unless you’re tired or excited. Don’t get out of bed unless you’re ready. Work with passion. Work with rage and sympathy for the world. Smile to yourself sometimes. Remind people that you love them. Listen to songs on repeat. Make your own meals. Try to think like the animal that you are. Drink. Learn to really drink. Drink yourself into someone new. Drink yourself into someone old. You won’t live forever. Nobody does. Savour hellos. Savour goodbyes. Hope. Above all, hope.
I Don’t Write Good ‘Get Well Soon’ Cards (via samueljamesobrien)

This needs to become my new mantra

poetryslutsunited
mysticalmaiden:

To be his canvas. To have his words splayed across my skin. To have his mark. To be owned and have it written. To have my body the contract of his will. To have him play with words that touch my skin. To have his desire written. To have his need hieroglyphed on my tomb. To make my body his totem. To be his, truly, devoted, forever and only his I would tattoo every word he ever spoke to me upon my skin. 
© Words By: Mystical Maiden

Want. 

mysticalmaiden:

To be his canvas. To have his words splayed across my skin. To have his mark. To be owned and have it written. To have my body the contract of his will. To have him play with words that touch my skin. To have his desire written. To have his need hieroglyphed on my tomb. To make my body his totem. To be his, truly, devoted, forever and only his I would tattoo every word he ever spoke to me upon my skin. 

© Words By: Mystical Maiden

Want.