"I think the reason why twentysomethings are so fixated on age is because we feel a pressure to be a certain way at 23, at 25, at 29. There are all of these invisible deadlines with our careers and with love and drinking and drugs. I can’t do coke at 25. I need to be in a LTR at 27. I can’t vomit from drinking at 26. I just can’t! We feel so much guilt for essentially acting our age and making mistakes. We’re obsessed with this idea of being domesticated and having our shit together. It’s kind of sad actually because I don’t think we ever fully get a chance to enjoy our youth. We’re so concerned about doing things “the right way” that we lose any sense of pleasure in doing things the wrong way. Youth may be truly wasted on the young."

Why Do Twentysomethings Always Feel So Old | Ryan O’Connell  (via iarnasoldat)

(Source: juneandafter, via princesspayt)

kushandwizdom:

Teen quotes
"I’m sorry that holding your hand won’t stop you from swallowing a bottle of pills. I’m sorry that kissing you won’t stop you from pressing a blade to your skin. I’m sorry that telling you I love you won’t make the voices in your head go away. I’m sorry that I can’t save you from yourself."

though i really wish i could, i’m sorry (via the-psycho-cutie)

(via underdosing)

(via gaylauren)

temporaryrecluse:

Dear anorexia, my weight restored body is not “fat” (and every negative connotation you’ve decided to associate with a neutral word). I will post monologues hundreds to thousands of times until I understand this.
I prefer ice cream over spending hours in the gym, denying myself food I want and love and crave, just to get the “perfect body”. That, sir, is wasted time.
Saying no to friends because I have to go to the gym or saying no to my family because “I don’t eat out” is isolation similar to when I was sick. Maybe more socially acceptable isolation (for some weird reason), but isolation all the same.
Graduating high school, university, working, volunteering, hiking with friends I never would’ve met if I was sick. This is worth it. You cannot make me feel small because my body is bigger than it used to be. Even if I gain 30 more pounds, I am so much better than I was. I don’t want to waste my time in a gym. I want to live. I want to love.
When I’m holding my newborn child and falling asleep next to the love of my life, I’ll understand why I don’t have crimson lines like caution tape down my arms. I’ll understand that I don’t need to see bones to feel strong.
I am strong already. Nobody can take that away from me.

temporaryrecluse:

Dear anorexia, my weight restored body is not “fat” (and every negative connotation you’ve decided to associate with a neutral word). I will post monologues hundreds to thousands of times until I understand this.

I prefer ice cream over spending hours in the gym, denying myself food I want and love and crave, just to get the “perfect body”. That, sir, is wasted time.

Saying no to friends because I have to go to the gym or saying no to my family because “I don’t eat out” is isolation similar to when I was sick. Maybe more socially acceptable isolation (for some weird reason), but isolation all the same.

Graduating high school, university, working, volunteering, hiking with friends I never would’ve met if I was sick. This is worth it. You cannot make me feel small because my body is bigger than it used to be. Even if I gain 30 more pounds, I am so much better than I was. I don’t want to waste my time in a gym. I want to live. I want to love.

When I’m holding my newborn child and falling asleep next to the love of my life, I’ll understand why I don’t have crimson lines like caution tape down my arms. I’ll understand that I don’t need to see bones to feel strong.

I am strong already. Nobody can take that away from me.

"It’s not beautiful and poetic to starve, cut, burn and kill yourself. it’s not beautiful and poetic to let the scars and self hate define who you are.
That is not who you are! You are the smile that creeps up on your lips when you speak about someone you love. You are the laugh you get when someone tells a dumb joke that you just can’t seem to get over. You are not the emptiness that sneaks up on you at night. You are not the hopelessness you feel when you are mistreated. You are not what they say you are. You are what you make yourself out to be. You are not the 3 am thoughts of death and self destruction. It is not beautiful or poetic to hate every part of your being. You are the little dimples around your mouth and the little raise of your eyebrows when you’re feeling flirty or surprised. Let the world fill you up, watch the rain pour and wash away the self hatred. Let yourself look at things that make your head spin and your heart flutter. Let yourself be happy. Don’t think for a second that self loathing and emptiness make you beautiful and poetic."

— it’s is not beautiful nor poetic (via not-frail)