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100 Years of Kitten Beauty

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gonna be cringe and acknowledge harry potter on main for a second just to say that the reaction to cedric diggory’s death in the goblet of fire is one of the most heartbreakingly tragic death scenes i’ve ever watched in a film

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The reality of Instagram Modeling

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also im really fucking physically drained as well as mentally

ive started my rant might as well give the full picture now fucks sake

like im literally exhausted from the moment i wake up, im seeing spots and my vision is worse, i lose hair really easily and i get really fatigued quickly which despite this i still get five-six days of very heavy lifting in but im shattered after. im irritable as shit which is worse because of my bipolar but the anger is just amplified by this overwhelming sense of “hangry” that’s constantly looming around me. im on fuck tons of vitamins and supplements to make sure my body can function which even with them doesn’t feel it work right a lot of the time. i have hypothalamic amenorrhea and am anemic as well, my body is literally breaking. yet im still punishing myself, every minute of the day. i focus on nothing else, my hobbies are centred around fitness and i don’t know how to love anything but that. im so fuckin tiIREEEED man i can’t even begin to explain the affect this has had on my relationships and friendships and my family it’s just unfair to everyone. absolutely everyone, including me i guess. fuck you mind you bitch, my body needs food and fuck you she’ll get it. not right now, but she’ll get it soon, and when she feels better so will you, i really really hope i feel better soon.

gonna be talking about food and why it’s fucked my life up. heads up TW i guess,maybe??

man im just so fucking tired

im so tired of having myfitnesspal as my most used app with literally hours and hours of my day spent meticulously changing and calculating and restricting and obsessing and feeling guilty over what im going to eat later that day or the next day or in a weeks time so if i go to McDonald’s with my mum as a cheat its still actually ‘okay’ and fits my macros i just wanna fucking LIVE. i spend hours making shopping lists i don’t buy, looking up restaurant nutritional information to places I’ve never been or probably will go, dream about one day having enough carbs left to have a cookie at Starbucks without having to have salad for dinner later, i just want a fucking cookie, and they look nice, i really want a cookie, fuck i haven’t had one in months, maybe a year. im actively trying to change and ive been to doctors and speak to my parents but im mostly alone in whatever this is because im about to move away so doctors won’t refer me, and my parents don’t quite know what to do with me, and i don’t blame them. i just want to eat a meal that’s made for me with love and unknown amounts of olive oil that i can’t and shouldn’t care about controlling. i know i need to eat more, i was practically fucking keto without realising but i wasn’t eating enough fat so i was literally just starving. cause that’s what this is, it’s not restriction and macro obsessing and being in a ‘fucking massive’ as ive discovered calorie deficit for over 9 months, im fucking hungry. my instagram is filled with food blogs and pictures and my facebook adverts are for spinach pasta. im hungry. im sad and im guilty for eating what my body needs, wants and desires even though i haven’t even eaten it, just tracked it and freaked out so had a protein thin instead of normal bread, just normal things. my doctor said that as a powerlifter, eating and obsessions are normal for weight restrictive sports like mine and isn’t related to my actual OCD diagnosis or even my bipolar which ive dealt with for years. to her, my obsessive hair pulling to the point i had to shave my head three years ago and the fact that i pour myself water five times just to have one glass has nothing to do with my obsession with my food scales and tracking and guilt over fucking everything to do with my body. i know i look good. i worked for my body, not necessarily in the kitchen as such but in the gym im my happiest, i couldn’t give it up for anything, which scares me too. im terrified of giving myself breaks and i left family visits just to keep up my gym day streaks and feel guilty for taking rest days when my body is screaming for them. im actively trying to, not gain weight, but refeed, and allow my metabolism to ACTUALLY WORK so i can eventually focus on eating what i really want. reverse dieting, essentially. it’s slow and i just want to eat a fucking banana. i don’t even know if i like banana, but i want one. im still scared to reach near my carb goals, and my calories are increasing by 50 every week or so, if not faster because im impatient, yet terrified. supposed to get up to 120 carbs. scared to reach 115, was almost at 117 for tomorrow and then restricted myself instead because i know ill end up eating something random in tiny quantities which will take up those 5 grams. it’s so stupid. I should be eating fucking almost twice that yet im still restricting and obsessing because i don’t want my body to freak out and gain weight all of a sudden, even though I know it has to happen. i was up .2kg on the scale this morning, and it fucked my whole day up. im still under 63, im still in my weight class to lift, it’s all okay. BUT IM NOT EVEN FUCKING COMPETING RIGHT NOW! this shouldn’t matter at all!!!! why am i so obsessed? i just want to eat. i want granola, i want to have normal dominos pizza, my old McDonald’s order, go out for a scone with my mum, have a celebratory meal for hopefully passing my a levels next week and not fucking look up everything before hand and convince myself i want that salad that would be so much better if it wasn’t a salad and was actually a pizza. tired.

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I got to marry my wife, and our pupper was our flower girl. 2.5 years ago this wasn’t possible, as it wasn’t legal in Australia. It rained our whole wedding day, but was so worth it in the end with our phenomenal photographer.

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GOD LITERALLY in the early 2000s ppl were so self conscious about their fat asses literally everyone just wanted to have no butt and literally 10 yrs later if u have a flat ass you might as well wear a paper bag over your whole fucking body and it well & truly sucks that womens bodies go in and out of fashion like this like tf are we supposed to do? spend all our time obsessing over the minutiae of our physiques? get plastic surgery every 5-10 yrs to make sure our bodies can keep up & b warped with the trends of objectification? like what the fuck do you want from women ? 

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me: :(

lizzo:

me: :)

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Knowing that trans women of color started the movement in the united states and were literally immediately erased and excluded from what they started is the most deeply jading knowledge.

It is the original sin of the so-called queer community and it damns it from the cradle.

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gonna be talking about food and why it’s fucked my life up. heads up TW i guess,maybe??

man im just so fucking tired

im so tired of having myfitnesspal as my most used app with literally hours and hours of my day spent meticulously changing and calculating and restricting and obsessing and feeling guilty over what im going to eat later that day or the next day or in a weeks time so if i go to McDonald’s with my mum as a cheat its still actually ‘okay’ and fits my macros i just wanna fucking LIVE. i spend hours making shopping lists i don’t buy, looking up restaurant nutritional information to places I’ve never been or probably will go, dream about one day having enough carbs left to have a cookie at Starbucks without having to have salad for dinner later, i just want a fucking cookie, and they look nice, i really want a cookie, fuck i haven’t had one in months, maybe a year. im actively trying to change and ive been to doctors and speak to my parents but im mostly alone in whatever this is because im about to move away so doctors won’t refer me, and my parents don’t quite know what to do with me, and i don’t blame them. i just want to eat a meal that’s made for me with love and unknown amounts of olive oil that i can’t and shouldn’t care about controlling. i know i need to eat more, i was practically fucking keto without realising but i wasn’t eating enough fat so i was literally just starving. cause that’s what this is, it’s not restriction and macro obsessing and being in a ‘fucking massive’ as ive discovered calorie deficit for over 9 months, im fucking hungry. my instagram is filled with food blogs and pictures and my facebook adverts are for spinach pasta. im hungry. im sad and im guilty for eating what my body needs, wants and desires even though i haven’t even eaten it, just tracked it and freaked out so had a protein thin instead of normal bread, just normal things. my doctor said that as a powerlifter, eating and obsessions are normal for weight restrictive sports like mine and isn’t related to my actual OCD diagnosis or even my bipolar which ive dealt with for years. to her, my obsessive hair pulling to the point i had to shave my head three years ago and the fact that i pour myself water five times just to have one glass has nothing to do with my obsession with my food scales and tracking and guilt over fucking everything to do with my body. i know i look good. i worked for my body, not necessarily in the kitchen as such but in the gym im my happiest, i couldn’t give it up for anything, which scares me too. im terrified of giving myself breaks and i left family visits just to keep up my gym day streaks and feel guilty for taking rest days when my body is screaming for them. im actively trying to, not gain weight, but refeed, and allow my metabolism to ACTUALLY WORK so i can eventually focus on eating what i really want. reverse dieting, essentially. it’s slow and i just want to eat a fucking banana. i don’t even know if i like banana, but i want one. im still scared to reach near my carb goals, and my calories are increasing by 50 every week or so, if not faster because im impatient, yet terrified. supposed to get up to 120 carbs. scared to reach 115, was almost at 117 for tomorrow and then restricted myself instead because i know ill end up eating something random in tiny quantities which will take up those 5 grams. it’s so stupid. I should be eating fucking almost twice that yet im still restricting and obsessing because i don’t want my body to freak out and gain weight all of a sudden, even though I know it has to happen. i was up .2kg on the scale this morning, and it fucked my whole day up. im still under 63, im still in my weight class to lift, it’s all okay. BUT IM NOT EVEN FUCKING COMPETING RIGHT NOW! this shouldn’t matter at all!!!! why am i so obsessed? i just want to eat. i want granola, i want to have normal dominos pizza, my old McDonald’s order, go out for a scone with my mum, have a celebratory meal for hopefully passing my a levels next week and not fucking look up everything before hand and convince myself i want that salad that would be so much better if it wasn’t a salad and was actually a pizza. tired.

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the clock: hits 2 am

gays logging onto tumglr to post abt tenderness tenderness yearning hands fingertips touching the insides of wrists the soft skin on the inside of a lover’s left elbow:

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I want a home mostly just to welcome people into it. There will be bowls of candy for guests, and the cookie jar is full. I’ll always say “I was just about to make a coffee/tea/cocoa, would you like one?” when somebody walks in. There’s lemonade and iced tea made fresh on hot days. Once it hits That Hour and they start saying they really should be going, I’ll remind them that the futon is always open, and I’m making cinnamon rolls tomorrow. There’s champagne and sparkling juice hidden on a high shelf just in case somebody announces their engagement or their pregnancy or their new job while they’re here. There is an extra chair in the living room, at the table, and on the deck, and it’s for you. I want to be able to say “if you’re ever in trouble, come to me.”

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me, doing absolutely anything: imagine if i was doing this but i was in love

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physically im in my bedroom but mentally im on an island in greece singing abba 

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when my horoscope seems optimistic, the fortune cookie from my takeout says to ‘expect good things’, and i’ve reblogged 3 ‘good luck posts’ but i’m still not living in a cottage in the woods with my beautiful wife and 3 goats:

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