thelittlekneesofbees:

fivelettered:

for-an-anarchist-hyrule:

this pug gets me

oh look, my college career

hey it’s me!

thelittlekneesofbees:

fivelettered:

for-an-anarchist-hyrule:

this pug gets me

oh look, my college career

hey it’s me!

(Source: clinicallydepressedpug, via afrafemme)

IMAG0308-1 on Flickr.
Taking a break from being on my soap box in class. Talking about body image, eating disorders and fatness in class is super stressful.

IMAG0308-1 on Flickr.

Taking a break from being on my soap box in class. Talking about body image, eating disorders and fatness in class is super stressful.

Why I don’t give a fuck about your diet.

redefiningbodyimage:

[tw: food-related anxiety]

That I have no choice but to listen to my surrounding coworkers discuss diets and “oh I can’t have this or that” every single day is probably one of the most infuriating and triggering things in the entire fucking world. 

What others choose to eat or not eat is none of my concern. I literally could not give a shit less about your fruitless, sugarless diet or your sudden drop in weight loss as a reward for abstaining from indulgence. But you make it my concern when you proclaim these aspects of your eating habits out loud with pride while I sit gobbling down some processed food I was forced to grab in haste on my way into the office. 

I wonder if people are capable of trying to comprehend a reality wherein personal control and choice regarding food consumption is a privilege - that for some, this privilege is especially hard to come by.

My reality involves mostly-empty cupboards and no one to lean on but myself. It involves sitting for hours on end, trying to will myself to get in the car and drive to the grocery store to buy nutritious foods for the week. In the event that I actually make it out the door, half the time my anxiety and fear of the kind of judgement that comes with fat visibility while food shopping won’t allow me to leave the driveway and I’ll returning to my kitchen to comb through my cupboards, making do with what I have at hand - pasta, ramen, soup, frozen food - the things that keep. Or nothing.

In the event that I do leave the driveway, my fear will guide me into a drive-thru in order to avoid human interaction. My anxiety takes advantage of impulse. I think “here is an easy way to sustain myself that doesn’t involve being subjected to the gaze of others” and cease it automatically. It isn’t until after I’m home, hating the food I’m eating with ever fiber of my being, that the guilt sets in.

During the times I finally make it to the grocery store, I make a beeline to the essentials. A lifetime of food-shopping experience as a fat person tells me that making eye contact with anyone could warrant unwanted and judgmental comments from other shoppers, so I keep my head down and my eyes on the prices. I struggle to keep from looking at labels and numbers, calories and sugar content, in an attempt to restrain the damaging diet mentality I’ve tried so hard to overcome.

I aim to shop for the week but end up shopping for only a handful of days, rushing myself through self-checkout before I can consider anything too carefully. Any more than a small basket full of food means going through the check out line with an actual person scanning my food choices who may feel entitled enough to make comments on my purchases as they fly past. “Oh these are so good, I wish I could eat them but I’ve been watching my figure.” “Look at all this food! Having a party?” “Ice cream and wine? Gee, you must be having a hard week.” 

My shopping experiences are never fulfilling. I rarely leave with what I wanted to get.

I record my eating habits, but not like a used to - not as a method of punishment to be sure I’m keeping to arbitrary restrictions, but as a reminder to myself that on the whole, the food I eat is varied. That while I sometimes default to quick food fixes to appease my anxieties, the times I don’t are enough to create a nutritional balance that pleases me. Because I am doing the best I can with what I have.

By all means, enjoy the pride you feel in your personal food choices and physical changes. I wish you happiness in your diet - a happiness that I never had the privilege of experiencing, that instead mixed with my mental illness in a way that would have surely destroyed me had I not found the strength to fight against it. But my experience is not yours and I respect your right to restrict your eating habits and keep track of your weight. Honestly, I do.

Just please, please - Shut the FUCK up about it.

haleycue:

8 mile is trapping it all in - i live right above the cluster
this and the whole west nile epidemic pretty much has me feeling like never leaving my fucking house


But it is only the DPD reporting. Shit happens above 8 mile. If it was a state wide or even metro detroit wide reporting this would look different.

haleycue:

8 mile is trapping it all in - i live right above the cluster

this and the whole west nile epidemic pretty much has me feeling like never leaving my fucking house

But it is only the DPD reporting. Shit happens above 8 mile. If it was a state wide or even metro detroit wide reporting this would look different.

(via haleycue)

Tags: anxiety

redefiningbodyimage:

Whatever you’re feeling, where ever you are, no matter your state…If your thoughts become too much and you don’t know what to do with what’s going on in your brain, speak out loud. Communicate, interact, yell, rage, bounce words around, listen and articulate. Put it out there and let it come back. A good chat can heal you.

redefiningbodyimage:

Whatever you’re feeling, where ever you are, no matter your state…If your thoughts become too much and you don’t know what to do with what’s going on in your brain, speak out loud. Communicate, interact, yell, rage, bounce words around, listen and articulate. Put it out there and let it come back. A good chat can heal you.

redefiningbodyimage:

Tonight has been another one of those nights where I am stuck on wishing I existed in a body that allowed me to do the things I really want to do.
Right when one thing starts working right, another thing starts up.
I love my body and yet am constantly at odds with it.
I wanted so badly to just wake up today, feeling ready to face the world. I thought maybe today would be a good day to go to the bike shop and get some new wheels. I want so badly to hop on my bike and ride and ride.
There are so many things standing in my way and I can’t defeat them all and it’s really disheartening.
That’s why I get so upset whenever someone questions my lifestyle, or suggests I get into an exercise routine, or get more active - get more “fit”.
Honestly, I really love being active. My body just will not always allow that to happen.
Migraines make it difficult to want to move or open my eyes. Depression makes it hard to leave my bed some days. Anxiety distorts my perception, making me overthink every aspect of wanting to leave my house sometimes, or even make a simple decision. Chronic hives crop up on my skin when they please, more often when I move or sweat or go out into the sun or do anything to agitate the surface of my body, making me burn and itch and not want to move because every inch of me is uncomfortable. Dermatitis makes me feel like a monster.
All of these things come in waves and crash straight through me and I wonder what it feels like to just be normal.
For me, going to the gym at the same time, same day of the week is unrealistic. Every time I’ve tried to go, even just weekly, I’d just become so discouraged with myself that I’d stop being active altogether.
So this is what I do.
I move when I can. When I want to and my body and mind will allow it. And I savor that movement, relishing in those moments when I feel at peace with my parts - when everything feels right and I can grasp onto some sense of normalcy.
But today has not been one of those days and tonight I have decided I shouldn’t feel guilty about that anymore, because why should I beat myself up over these things I can’t control?
And I know I’ve been talking about these things an awful lot lately, and I wanted to acknowledge that, but also say that I won’t apologize - because this is my favorite form of therapy and it always has been - pouring my heart out on the internet.
How are you living?

Taking things day by day. It is the best that I can give. =0)

redefiningbodyimage:

Tonight has been another one of those nights where I am stuck on wishing I existed in a body that allowed me to do the things I really want to do.

Right when one thing starts working right, another thing starts up.

I love my body and yet am constantly at odds with it.

I wanted so badly to just wake up today, feeling ready to face the world. I thought maybe today would be a good day to go to the bike shop and get some new wheels. I want so badly to hop on my bike and ride and ride.

There are so many things standing in my way and I can’t defeat them all and it’s really disheartening.

That’s why I get so upset whenever someone questions my lifestyle, or suggests I get into an exercise routine, or get more active - get more “fit”.

Honestly, I really love being active. My body just will not always allow that to happen.

Migraines make it difficult to want to move or open my eyes. Depression makes it hard to leave my bed some days. Anxiety distorts my perception, making me overthink every aspect of wanting to leave my house sometimes, or even make a simple decision. Chronic hives crop up on my skin when they please, more often when I move or sweat or go out into the sun or do anything to agitate the surface of my body, making me burn and itch and not want to move because every inch of me is uncomfortable. Dermatitis makes me feel like a monster.

All of these things come in waves and crash straight through me and I wonder what it feels like to just be normal.

For me, going to the gym at the same time, same day of the week is unrealistic. Every time I’ve tried to go, even just weekly, I’d just become so discouraged with myself that I’d stop being active altogether.

So this is what I do.

I move when I can. When I want to and my body and mind will allow it. And I savor that movement, relishing in those moments when I feel at peace with my parts - when everything feels right and I can grasp onto some sense of normalcy.

But today has not been one of those days and tonight I have decided I shouldn’t feel guilty about that anymore, because why should I beat myself up over these things I can’t control?

And I know I’ve been talking about these things an awful lot lately, and I wanted to acknowledge that, but also say that I won’t apologize - because this is my favorite form of therapy and it always has been - pouring my heart out on the internet.

How are you living?

Taking things day by day. It is the best that I can give. =0)