Bubbles7724 - Untitled

I had 1.5 cups of soup, and 4 oreos today (My friend offered me and i couldnt make her suspect anything). I feel so fat and bloated its not even funny. I wanna throw up, but im going to try to keep it down. I used to eat and binge daily, but now my self hate overrides any and all cravings

I knew it was too good to be true. I just knew i couldnt be happy for long.

Slit your wrist, cut your thighs

Fake a smile, and dry your eyes

Hate yourself, and hate your life

Welcome, to my world of lies

it shouldn't be this hard... right?

You literally dont get it. I dont give a shit whether I live or die. I dont care how I die. I dont care if i die by corona, or drugs, or by my own hand. I dont give a shit.

MY SISTER SNITCHED ON MY DAD CUZ SHE SAW MY WRISTS

I lied and told her it was only there and only once a week for a couple months...

She fucking believed me...

"You tell dad or I will"

"Okay, I will. I just need some time"

LITERALLY THE NEXT FUCKING DAY SHE SNITCHES

Fucking bitch stay out of my life. The reason I started cutting was because of you! You havent been around for YEARS. You have a new family and you fucking left me and I'm fine with that. Dont fucking come around now and pretend were actually good. DONT PRETEND ITS OKAY FOR YOU TO GIVE ME AN ULTIMATUM AND NOT EVEN GIVE ME A FUCKING CHANCE

IM DOING JUST FINE BITCH LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. AND WHEN I TELL YOU WHY I DO IT AND WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED DONT GO ON A 15 MINUTE SPEECH ABOUT HAVING A RELATIONSHIP WITH JESUS AND HOW GAY PEOPLE ARE GOING TO HELL

I'm sorry, did I fucking say I was gay? DID I SAY I WATCH PORN?

No. No I didnt. I said that I feel alone and that i want to kill myself and this was helping me

AND I SAID I KNOW ITS A BAD COPING MECHANISM BUT DID I ASK YOUR OPINION?!

THIS IS EXACTLY MY FUCKING POINT. Bitch. Stop putting fucking words in my mouth.

Imma kill someone, myself or her🤷‍♀️

Fuck off, Karen.

Im suprised I made it this far without bingeing. I ate about 400 calories. I feel starving but full. The only thing us now i cant sleep...

What would happen if I finally did it:

They'll take one look at my body and one look at my arms and thighs and say, "this is the reason why"

They'll stop searching there. They'll say my parents were naive and the reason there were hundreds of horizontal lines running down my body was because I stopped trying. They'll assume that I lost sight of my future and what I had going for me.

I'll just end up being nothing more than a statistic and a "life that could have been"

Itll be fine though, because I'll finally be at peace.

Everyone will blame themselves and need everyone else's pity over the fact that they lost me when the truth is they never had me. I've had scars for years and they did nothing. I know some saw them. Some days I would cry out for help, and not for "attention" or whatever the boomers say. No. I slit my wrists so I could get help. They heard my cry, but they decided they knew everything and still left me to bleed.

They dont deserve to be pitied for my death. Not even because they caused it, or that they even could've prevented it, but that they didn't even try... they didnt care enough when I was alive, so why would they care now that I was gone?

Eventually, all will go back to normal. It's TRUE. They'll go back to their lives and barely even remember me as the girl who killed herself. They'll say it was because I was depressed. They'll look at my scars and cuts that never healed right, and think they have the whole story. You don't.

This might be proof someday. This might be what's considered a suicide note, but I'm not going to write a typical note. This might be all they find, if they even dig deep enough.

Most likely, They're gonna take one look at my body and say "this was gonna happen sooner or later" and think that's the end of that. But let me tell you:

You've barely scratched the surface.

No. See, things get so bad sometimes, and those scars are the reason I'm still alive. When I see the blood, dripping down my limbs, it's a reminder that my heart is still beating, and I still have a life to live.

It's not meant to be poetry. It's not meant to come out like a positive thing. As much as they help me to live and cope with the daily events of this life, they are what brought me so close to death so many times before. I suppose what they're gonna say about me is right, but that's only one piece to a very complex puzzle I hope to finish one day.

I hope to live so that one day, my scars can be faded to the point they're barely visible. I want them to be gone, but never forgotten. Because where I came from has everything to do with how I approach the rest of my life.

That is, if I choose to live that long.

I'm so sorry. You deserve far better than anyone i can be. I cant give you what you want, but i want you to know that i will always love you. I really tried, but when we met, it was a completely different world.

Maybe someday though, years from now, when i get my shit together and im not suicidal, we can try again

I just want to be beautiful

Reblog if your SICK of these things:

FAT thighs

FAT stomach

FAT arms

FAT face

FAT hands

FAT calves

FAT knees

FAT hips

FAT EVERYTHING. 

I just want to be skinny…