Spades
he/him
- Jul 7, 2023
- 44
Tw for anorexia///
This post is very scattered and actually incomprehensible, sorry, it mostly goes into my ED and art struggles, I wrote this in less than 15 minutes, I don't mind advice, in fact that would be appreciated.
Typing this very quickly, so this won't be as eloquent or as wordy as all my other ramblings.
No beating around the bush, I'll get straight to the point.
My eating disorder is getting rapidly worse and I can't tell anyone abt it bc they wpuldnt understand. My boyfriend thinks I recovered and idk how to tell him that I relapsed months ago, I don't want to worry him.
I've tried to explain my ed to him in the past and he was supportive, but couldn't understand it. I feel so alone and isolated here in my room, I a lways have to suffer in silence always always always always
I'm so sick of it so sick so sick, I'm always sick, too sick for anything, too irritable, I'm either too much or too little. There is no balance in my life, I always have to choose between the lesser of two extremes.
Can never tell anyone, I either get an apathetic response or an overly worried one that makes me downplay the severity of my depression and ED to make them feel better.
O want to scream, shout, cry, I want someone to look at me, see me, love me love me for who I really am and not for who I could be.
I want to ctb but can't due to life circumstances (I'd be found before I could complete the act + lack of access to reliable methods, I cannot order packages)
I feel so trapped and I feel like I'm going insane everyday, I can't do this anymore I can't I just can't.
The tips of my fingers are purple, I'm very cold, tired, angry, and I can't breathe properly at all. It's not scary bc I'm not scared of dying, it's a fucking nuisance that makes drawing so much harder than it has to be.
Drawing, the one thing I still love. I make characters and comics that some ppl like online and that makes me feel less nymb,
I might even say it makes me feel "happy" when ppl show interest in my characters and stories. Even more so when they ask detailed questions abt it, it makes me feel warm inside.
I think that's bc I'm very autistic and my special interest for my own stories is very intense, I'd go as far to say that its the only thing I still care about. Nothing else matters, I want to draw my little guys and then die.
I don't want to talk abt anything else, think abt anything else, I just want to draw my silly little robots that happen to be as depressed and fucked up as I am.
Ppl tell me I'm a good writer, idk if that's true. I cannot trust my own perception of myself, and the perception other ppl have of me is just as faulty, if not more so.
but my boyfriend and all those closest to me don't care abt what I make at all. I worked my ass off and finished a 46 page comic in less than a month, barely ate, barely slept, driven by love for these characters I've made and nothing else,
Only to be met with apathy, I know they aren't obligated to care, but that doesn't change the fact that it hurts, it hurts so much it makes me want to die even more.
I listen to what they wan t to talk abt but the moment I want to talk abt my art I get talked over, no one irl cares at all and that makes me want to scream too.
I feel so selfish and guilty whenever I talk abt my characters or even just something I happen to be very passionate about.
I always feel the need to apologize whenever I talk AT ALL despite knowing how irrational that is.
My art is my voice, it's who I am and you cannot separate it from me. To not care abt what I make means they do not care for me as a person, but for my flesh, my skin. Its only ever skin deep, but real love goes beneath the bones.
What I can offer sexually, used goods, that's all I'm good for right?
I can't think straight anymore, I've been dealing with some severe brain fog lately. I feel so stupid, I feel like I'm losing myself, I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore and I can't recall a time where I ever did.
This post is very scattered and actually incomprehensible, sorry, it mostly goes into my ED and art struggles, I wrote this in less than 15 minutes, I don't mind advice, in fact that would be appreciated.
Typing this very quickly, so this won't be as eloquent or as wordy as all my other ramblings.
No beating around the bush, I'll get straight to the point.
My eating disorder is getting rapidly worse and I can't tell anyone abt it bc they wpuldnt understand. My boyfriend thinks I recovered and idk how to tell him that I relapsed months ago, I don't want to worry him.
I've tried to explain my ed to him in the past and he was supportive, but couldn't understand it. I feel so alone and isolated here in my room, I a lways have to suffer in silence always always always always
I'm so sick of it so sick so sick, I'm always sick, too sick for anything, too irritable, I'm either too much or too little. There is no balance in my life, I always have to choose between the lesser of two extremes.
Can never tell anyone, I either get an apathetic response or an overly worried one that makes me downplay the severity of my depression and ED to make them feel better.
O want to scream, shout, cry, I want someone to look at me, see me, love me love me for who I really am and not for who I could be.
I want to ctb but can't due to life circumstances (I'd be found before I could complete the act + lack of access to reliable methods, I cannot order packages)
I feel so trapped and I feel like I'm going insane everyday, I can't do this anymore I can't I just can't.
The tips of my fingers are purple, I'm very cold, tired, angry, and I can't breathe properly at all. It's not scary bc I'm not scared of dying, it's a fucking nuisance that makes drawing so much harder than it has to be.
Drawing, the one thing I still love. I make characters and comics that some ppl like online and that makes me feel less nymb,
I might even say it makes me feel "happy" when ppl show interest in my characters and stories. Even more so when they ask detailed questions abt it, it makes me feel warm inside.
I think that's bc I'm very autistic and my special interest for my own stories is very intense, I'd go as far to say that its the only thing I still care about. Nothing else matters, I want to draw my little guys and then die.
I don't want to talk abt anything else, think abt anything else, I just want to draw my silly little robots that happen to be as depressed and fucked up as I am.
Ppl tell me I'm a good writer, idk if that's true. I cannot trust my own perception of myself, and the perception other ppl have of me is just as faulty, if not more so.
but my boyfriend and all those closest to me don't care abt what I make at all. I worked my ass off and finished a 46 page comic in less than a month, barely ate, barely slept, driven by love for these characters I've made and nothing else,
Only to be met with apathy, I know they aren't obligated to care, but that doesn't change the fact that it hurts, it hurts so much it makes me want to die even more.
I listen to what they wan t to talk abt but the moment I want to talk abt my art I get talked over, no one irl cares at all and that makes me want to scream too.
I feel so selfish and guilty whenever I talk abt my characters or even just something I happen to be very passionate about.
I always feel the need to apologize whenever I talk AT ALL despite knowing how irrational that is.
My art is my voice, it's who I am and you cannot separate it from me. To not care abt what I make means they do not care for me as a person, but for my flesh, my skin. Its only ever skin deep, but real love goes beneath the bones.
What I can offer sexually, used goods, that's all I'm good for right?
I can't think straight anymore, I've been dealing with some severe brain fog lately. I feel so stupid, I feel like I'm losing myself, I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore and I can't recall a time where I ever did.