It’s a wonder I’m even alive. Sometimes I think that. I think that I can’t believe I haven’t killed myself. But there’s something in me that just keeps going on. I think it has something to do with tomorrow, that there is always one, and that everything can change when it comes.
I think I might want to make a blog that’s a space for people who’ve experienced eating disorders, especially invisible ones, to share their experiences and talk about it with each other and think about what changes could be made that would actually help. Racism, classism, sexism, sizeism, ableism, homophobia, cissexism, ageism- everything intersects in this issue….
Eating Disorder activism is a great idea.
I find it interesting that the original post has “ableism” as a tag. Is this the OP calling themself out on some of the ableist phrasing they’re using? Because that would be cool, but I doubt it…
Trigger warning: talking of specific behaviors and anorexia in general, shame, body shaming
This is very important. The story of a now-8th grader’s year with anorexia, and her road to recovery.
I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.
I guess I can say I am lucky that I wasn’t scarred for life about my weight until age 10…