My main trigger is when people get mad at me.

Alls you gotta do it yell at me and next thing you know I’m downing laxatives and purging my guts out. I don’t know why, but I can’t handle anyone being unhappy with me. I can’t handle being fussed at or being disliked, even though, it doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s like my mind just immediately goes to “well, time to throw up” in those moments, even if I’m not sad.

I get confused and irritated, but it doesn’t scare or hurt me anymore. Just, gotta make myself throw up and starve for a few days then I’m a-ok again

Las voces que dicen “Te está mintiendo. Saldrás lastimada. Deja de escuchar” cada vez son más ensordecedoras, exigen toda mi atención, me imploran que salga corriendo, que me cuide a mi misma, que no arriesgue, estúpida inseguridad y desconfianza, están ganando terreno, estoy perdiendo y será una derrota épica.

Ataques de ansiedad inesperados, desaparezcan ya.

On point

Panic at the Tesco

As each foot hit the tiles he could feel his nervous system shudder in disagreement. The delicate wires that mapped his body, before unacknowledged, seemed to be jolting ahead with an urgency his body only understood. Each muscle vibrated. His brain joined the game in solidarity.

There is something wrong. There isn’t anything wrong though!

But there is.

Most of the time he knows better. There isn’t anything worth feeling like this for. Usually he just ignores the shudders and carries on in defiance of his own nagging dread. His finger tips tap out morse code into the air but only he can understand this language of fear.

It’s Ridiculous. The price of spinach is at least. It’s all fine but just incase though, we better run.