I love Instagram as much as the next girl (follow me!@realliferecoverydiary).

There’s no question some of the girls I have met through my recovery account have changed my life. They’ve been a constant source of support and motivation and are always there to cheer me up on the worst days.

I didn’t start my recovery account until I was over 6 months into my journey, at a healthy weight and much stronger than I had been prior to the hospital.

I felt like I could use Instagram as a way to both inspire girls just starting out in recovery as well as receive support for my own personal recovery. I felt like it was a positive step. I felt like it was a win-win.

For the most part it is. I’d say 90% of the time, my Instagram is awesome and uplifting.

However, I think sometimes recovery Instagrams can do more harm than good.

I think sometimes they are more triggering than inspiring.

Unfortunately, a lot of recovery accounts post pictures of inadequate intakes or bony “before” selfies. The girls behind these accounts are still struggling with their eating disorders and it can be tough for us to see while we are dealing with our own issues.

As someone who’s suffered with anorexia, I have a horrible tendency to compare myself to others (I’m sure you know what that’s like!).

So if someone posts a seemingly innocent picture of their dinner and it happens to be smaller than mine, I’ll feel guilty.

I shouldn’t have eaten so much. Why did I have that extra serving? Look how healthy they are compared to me.

Blah blah blah. The thoughts go on and on, spiraling out of control.

And if it’s a picture of exercising or scales or someone who’s “weight-restored” but still half my size? Forget it.

You might as well just hand me a box marked RELAPSE because that’s exactly where I’d be headed.

Luckily, I’m in a place now where those pictures don’t send me off into a dark place. Sure, sometimes I catch myself comparing or feeling guilty but I’m strong enough and far enough along in my recovery I can stop it before it’s a full blown relapse.

If you’re just starting out though, it can be a lot more difficult to protect yourself.

That’s when I think you should take a step back from Instagram. Or at the very least clean up your feed so you are only following truly “safe” accounts.

It’s okay to recognize Instagram as a trigger. It doesn’t make you weak or pathetic or cowardly.

Being able to know what is harmful to your recovery and then having the strength to remove it from your life is powerful. It’s brave. It’s actually pretty darn amazing.

It means you’re taking back your life. You aren’t enabling your eating disorder.

UseInstagram as a tool for inspiration but be aware of its risks and dangers. Don’t let it hurt you. Don’t let it stop you from recovering.

PS. Check out my new website Real Life Recovery Diary!

I don’t fucking, GET, this family. I don’t get my PARENTS. I get my grandmother, and SOMEWHAT my brother. But in the end I feel like they’re all just out for themselves. They don’t care how other people feel. They never think they did anything wrong. Im childish because I get upset about being called a liar, and then am called childish because I have fucking EMOTIONS *gasp* I know right? How inconvenient! I have fucking FEELINGS how HORRID. Like, these bitches. Calm the heck DOWN. We were ALL subjugated to a very big disaster. We are ALL stressed. It’s not just you. (You as in my family)

Whenever I try and dress kind of nice or stylish, those are always the days where my mom targets me and makes me feel horrible about myself.

What’s the weirdest diet you’ve ever been on?

I have literally went an entire week consuming nothing more thanrose petalsandtea.Don’t do this.

Every time I really need parental advice… I’m always met with either a “I don’t know what to say” or “I don’t know what you want me to say” ….. I need help.

My immediate response after consuming any amount of anything:

Mother: What’s that in your face? Did someone hit you?

Me: *fakely surprised* What? Oh no! I just slept on my fist is all. I bruise easy haha.

Mom: K.

I just told my mom that I can’t do this anymore, all the games and the lies. And that I wouldn’t be getting in the way anymore and that no one will have to be bothered by me anymore right after saying that I’m not sure why I’m even alive anymore. And she…is so stupid. She said “what are you talking about?” And then “we have to get you signed up for classes” haha haha. My life is nothing but a joke. It’s a JOKE. Why am I such a coward why can’t I just DIE already?!

I don’t understand my family, if you want me to do something or go somewhere, then don’t give me the option NOT to, and then proceed to get pissed off because I don’t WANTto.

uncle-dre:

I always tell myself stuff like

“a funeral would cost a lot of money and would inconvenience everyone, also if you aren’t here to take care of your pet they will most likely neglect her or give her away, so you better stay for now”

I literally cannot even bring myself to move unless I pop an adderall, and I hate it.