i wanna be skinny

so hi, i am nicole, and i don't like to eat and i like to make little (or big) marks on my thighs and stomach.

til death to them part

they once was alive

then came the thoughts of hatred

in the way of tongue

|anonymous|

Hi. Read below please?

Hi guys, uhm, I think that I’m not going to use this blog this much anymore and it might get deleted.
Please if you followed it would be so nice if you could follow my friend’s blog?
Pleaseeeee?
Thanks.
It’s called hiddenrealitybombs on here. hiddenrealitybombs.tumblr.com

“I like to tell myself that we are all broken on the inside, and we all suffer, and that we all just crave to be dead.
Just once, I like to think I’m normal.”

so my friend messaged me today.

"guess what?"

"what?"

"i threw them all away."

I hope you care when my wrists start burning in the middle of the night.

"like have you ever felt something inside you that like, it was dropping and dropping but it never hit the bottom?"
“yeah.”
“and you just want to scream or something because you can’t get out?”
“yeah.”
“that’s what depression feels like to me. it feels like the end is nearing but it never comes.”

WARNING.

:: This blog may be triggering to recovering, past, or current depressed/suffering from a disorder person. I’m not trying to influence this. This blog is for my personal reasons and I hope you respect that. ::

Anonymous said: And until then, I'm here. I love you, you ARE strong. And you ARE a great person. You CAN get through this.

I love you too.

Anonymous said: You are perfect. I love you so much, you're my inspiration and you give up, I'm giving up as well. Please don't ever give up. I'm always here to talk to. You ARE skinny and pretty and just perfect. Everything will get better, but it may be a while.

Amy?

idk, even before i didn’t eat i didn’t eat breakfast

it’s not like i’m not eating at all, i just don’t eat breakfast or lunch. 

i ate too much today, so i might accidentally “get sick”

Dear Darcy. 
a story by itscalledaneatingdisorder
(i don’t know if i can copywright this but i wrote this and i swear to god if you take it.) 
a cough sounded from the girl’s mouth as she moved to grab her books that had fallen as a voice called out to stop her from moving away. “hey!” she looked up into blue eyes and smiled, “hey lou,” she stood up, her dress ruffling, “where’s harry?” 

notes: so this is like uh a really short prologue to get you to understand what’s going on with this story and all and it’s confusing but you’ll get it ok. good luck and enjoy my writing i guess? also, darcy was born in 2016 in this story so according to my sucky math she should be 16 and louis would be uhm, 41(?) and harry is 38(?) or 39(?) so yeah sorry sucky math itll be better soon. 
: May 2nd, 2032 :
the girl’s hair fluttered in the wind as she stepped up the stairs, leaves crinkling under her feet. she pulled the coat closer to her body as she opened the door to the building of her flat, humming under her breath. she waved to the lady at the desk and trudged up the stairs three at a time, her bag laying lazily on her shoulder. she picked her keys from her pocket, stepping into the empty room. the bag she had landed on the floor as she ventured to the kitchen, grabbing the kitchen phone. the phone felt ice cold as she dialed an international number to the u.s., and sat on the stool beside the counter. “Hello, you’ve reached the international hotline, please say the country you are trying to dial then dial the number.” She cleared her throat as she dialed the number of her kin. a crinkly sound ringed as she held the phone to her ear, ready to put it down until a shaky, “hello?” rang through the phone. 
"daddy." she cried, her voice shaking as a rough cough answered her. "darcy, baby ohmygod." the thick voice cried, the phone ruffling as he moved away from his friend talking in the background. "daddy, please, tell me what happened to dad." he groaned slightly as he positioned the phone to listen closely, wanting to hear his daughter. "we… we, we broke up." she closed her eyes tightly, tears slipping out. "no, no, no. where is he dad? what happened." she whispered as her father coughed, and stood up, looking out his window at the snowy town of Vancouver. "he, he. he killed himself." 

Dear Darcy. 

a story by itscalledaneatingdisorder

(i don’t know if i can copywright this but i wrote this and i swear to god if you take it.) 

a cough sounded from the girl’s mouth as she moved to grab her books that had fallen as a voice called out to stop her from moving away. “hey!” she looked up into blue eyes and smiled, “hey lou,” she stood up, her dress ruffling, “where’s harry?” 

notes: so this is like uh a really short prologue to get you to understand what’s going on with this story and all and it’s confusing but you’ll get it ok. good luck and enjoy my writing i guess? also, darcy was born in 2016 in this story so according to my sucky math she should be 16 and louis would be uhm, 41(?) and harry is 38(?) or 39(?) so yeah sorry sucky math itll be better soon. 

: May 2nd, 2032 :

the girl’s hair fluttered in the wind as she stepped up the stairs, leaves crinkling under her feet. she pulled the coat closer to her body as she opened the door to the building of her flat, humming under her breath. she waved to the lady at the desk and trudged up the stairs three at a time, her bag laying lazily on her shoulder. she picked her keys from her pocket, stepping into the empty room. the bag she had landed on the floor as she ventured to the kitchen, grabbing the kitchen phone. the phone felt ice cold as she dialed an international number to the u.s., and sat on the stool beside the counter. “Hello, you’ve reached the international hotline, please say the country you are trying to dial then dial the number.” She cleared her throat as she dialed the number of her kin. a crinkly sound ringed as she held the phone to her ear, ready to put it down until a shaky, “hello?” rang through the phone. 

"daddy." she cried, her voice shaking as a rough cough answered her. "darcy, baby ohmygod." the thick voice cried, the phone ruffling as he moved away from his friend talking in the background. "daddy, please, tell me what happened to dad." he groaned slightly as he positioned the phone to listen closely, wanting to hear his daughter. "we… we, we broke up." she closed her eyes tightly, tears slipping out. "no, no, no. where is he dad? what happened." she whispered as her father coughed, and stood up, looking out his window at the snowy town of Vancouver. "he, he. he killed himself."