#recovered

a letter from your eating disorder or your best friend: a poem about anorexia

you seem happier today

you look good

this playhouse, i wish we could forever stay

let’s pretend those dolls are in a happy mood

pretty barbie dolls and ugly ragdoll, i don’t think they’ll ever have a truce

all pretty things on TV are perfect pink

i chose you, duck duck goose!

let’s have cold water for a drink

aren’t those ballerinas so pretty? do you think you’re pretty?

stop crying, it was just a game!

judgy boys are everywhere in this big city

i just don’t want you to be in pain

i just don’t want your happiness to end

from: your best friend

A gorgeous and beautiful piece of crystalline Molybdenite in Quartzite from The Henderson Mine P-83 Production Drift, 7210 level.

I never post this shit on this tumblr. I have another blog that’s a recovery journal that I will also be posting this on. I will not post a link.

This is a really personal thing and I’m not thrilled about exposing my shit like this but some shit has been happening with people close to me, and I’m sharing this in hopes in might inspire at least one person that could relate to any of this. I once had this friend and we lived together for a short while and we were both kinda out of control with hard shit. He did dope, I did meth. It was bad. Fortunately we’ve both gotten our shit together. But the last time I saw him before we both left for rehab on the same day, he was covered head to toe in open sores from scratching at himself, he had been all week and I had been noticing it get progressively worse and I’d tell him to knock it off, he didn’t really even realize he was doing it at first. The end result was as bad as it could have gotten. Seeing it was like a ton of bricks on my soul and I think I cried. When I spoke of it to one other person, his best friend, it broke the dude’s heart to pieces. This was a long time ago and I hear he is doing phenomenally these days, that night was the last time we spoke. But anyway, that is my biggest fear. To be in a position, mentally and physically, where I’d do that to myself and not really notice I was even doing it. I think that’s what scared me straight and made me realize what I needed to do and I thought on it a lot in rehab. And since I’ve gotten out I have fucked up, everyone does, it takes a while to bounce back. But for a lot of people, sometimes when you’re fighting addiction, hearing “you can do it, I have faith in you” is nice but it doesn’t help. What you need is to witness something to scar you for fucking life and break your fucking heart. It’s one thing to watch yourself go through adversity, chances are if you’re doing hard drugs you’re a nihilist at least to some extent, or maybe stopped caring. But when you see a close friend or loved one in a tough spot, it can cut you to the core in so many ways. If you think you wanna try hard drugs, don’t. If they’re ever offered to you and you’ve never done them before, fucking kneecap that asshole they’re not your friend. If you are in the “I’m not addicted, I can quit whenever I want” phase, chances are you’re fucked but prove me wrong and fucking STOP. If you’re in the drowning phase, or even recovering/recovered, I am always here to talk. Keep on loving, keep on fighting.