#pvrg3

[vxm1tcxre]

My heart felt really funny after todays second b/p but I know I’m probably gonna do it again later tonight because I’m going out to a place with a buffet god I’m like a fucking dog on a leash

[ana-rends]

how can i have an encounter with my one phobia, fly larva, a word i cant speak or write without feeling contaminated, something that is food related, and have it make me feel so upset that i WANT to eat thats so fucking disgusting what is wrong with me

[vxm1tcxre]

“what does it look like”

It looks like garbage bags painted with the muted, slimy, unappealing colors of the food in your pantry. It looks like the silvery sheen left on the water even after you’ve flushed. It looks like shaking fingers with the cuticles chewed off. It looks red. The red of your knuckles, the red of the vessels in your teary eyes, the red of bl00d crusted under your fingernails, the little red steaks that come out of your throat when you’ve abus3d it just a little too much. It looks like piles of dirty dishes and empty wrappers in your room that you move around and stack together to try and make it seem like there’s less than there really is. It looks like hands smeared with snot and tears. It looks like ruined makeup. It looks like half-eaten food that just barely missed the coffee grounds or milk or applesauce next to it in the garbage can.

“What does it sound like”

Gagging. Sobbing. Chewing. Crunching. Boiling. Sizzling. The crinkle of wrappers. The hum of the microwave, the opening of the fridge door or the creak of the pantry that lets you know you’re back here again. Screaming but only inside your head, screams no one can hear, screams you lock behind your slowly-r0tting teeth. Silence. The silence after you’re done with the b1ng3 or you’re done with the pvrg3 where you just sit and think about what you’ve done, taking a second before you finish what you’ve started, delaying the inevitable. The music you put on to cover it up and the music you put on to comfort yourself through each repetitive day, the music that understands in a way you can’t imagine anyone would. Lies. Those words you utter to everyone around with the guilty tinge of dishonesty that only you recognize.

“What does it taste like”

Everything. It tastes like everything. It tastes rotten and dirty and bitter and repugnant. It tastes nostalgic and beautiful and relieving and delicious. It tastes like eating something and knowing what it tastes like when it comes back up. It tastes like coffee in the morning and carefully-measured meals as you tell yourself you’ll get back on track. It tastes like disappointment. It tastes like failure. It tastes bland on your burnt, acid-ruined tongue. It tastes like the water and baking soda you swish around to try and minimize the harm. It tastes perfect like nothing you’ve ever had and you don’t want the taste to leave even if you know it’s festering inside of you and turning you into a monster.

“What does it smell like”

It smells old. Pungent. Sickly-sweet. Dairy that’s curdled with st0mach acid. It doesn’t smell like much because you’re blind to it now, and it barely spends enough time in your st0mach to take on the sour tinge of real pvk3. It smells like the candles you light and the perfume you use to cover it up and try and feel normal, to make your bedroom stink less like the corpse you’re becoming. It smells like sm0ke swirling around and breathed out your window. It smells expired but you still eat it because it doesn’t matter anymore.

“What does it feel like”

It is pain. Pain even when you aren’t feeling pain because the emotional pain of just being this way is a pain that fills you. It’s the twist in your gut when you h3ave on an empty stomach, not quite believing it to be so, wanting to be sure. It feels like the weak ache in your head and chest like TV static when you stand on unsteady legs, the dread that comes knowing you’ll have to eat something again in order to feel normal enough to burn whatever c4l0ries you left behind. It’s the feeling of a horrendously bl0ated stomach whenever you even try to eat normally because you’ve ruined your digestive system and you have to cope with how disgusting it is to be full. It’s a pain in your throat like it’s swelling closed, acid flooding your chest and esophagus, sores on your lips and acne on your chin and an ache in your head that just won’t go away. It’s guilt for everything that’s so horrendous you can’t imagine ever forgiving yourself

[pretty-r0t]

If b/p means b1ng3/pvrg3, what does c/s mean?

chew / spit!!

I like this method a lot because I cant pvrge, but still want to experience the flavour of things I "cant" eat.

[siiii3st]

Ana tips 2 🩷

Binging and guilt.

Binging can mean different things to different people. But its mostly simple, you eat a lot. Now the real question is why you end up binging. Well, it mostly is due to either heavy restriction and/or cravings. The best you can probably do to prevent this is distraction. Do something fun, watch a movie, talk a with a friend etc. Cry if you need to. Its all about self control. Cravings disappear if you dont give into them. And remember. Its the craving youve had for an hour or the body you wished for all your life.

But how do you deal with the guilt? You just live with it. You experience it. Use it to learn. "Was the food worth the guilt im feelinh right now?" But if you truly cant stand the guilt, you most likely have 2 options. Pvrg3 it or burn it. Ill make a seprate post on pvrg!ng, and yes it is usually normal, even for anas, to pvrg3 atleast once. It does happen. But on burning it, you can go for a walk, do a hiit workout etc. But its likely if you binged on over 2-3k cals, you might aswell just live with it. Reflect on your mistakes and have better self control later. Fasting, restriction or wiser choices are always something you can do next.

Stay safe and stay skinny, sillies. Next its coming a post w tips on pvrg1ng. Feel free to dm, send an ask or comment any questions you may have 🩷

[cokezerobeetle]

just b/p’ed 😭 I always try so hard to avoid this but it was so satisfying after omg. I drank a glass of chocolate milk, ate some pieces of chocolate, and ate some of the new butterbeer goldfish crackers. Then ran to pvrg3. I know it is so bad for me and that’s why I try to avoid it but it is literally so addicting. Like I hate it but I love it.

[schizochasm]

I don't care how sick I get.

I'll Never be one of the people spewing fatphobic shit.

I've been skinny my whole life growing up.

To the point we needed me to gain weight during puberty or it would be concerning.

Then after my 2nd or 3rd recovery (can't remember) I had a b/p habit. I was scared of that. And eventually told my friend and recovered. I gained a Huge amount. I still b1ng3d, but didn't pvrg3.

Ever since I was obese.

Now I'm getting sk1nny again.

I'm losing it finally.

But no matter how sick I get.

No matter how much I lose.

I will Never shame people or judge people for being obese or overweight.

It's gross.

I'll never.

Ive been all over the spectrum.

And I can't imagine ever judging people for their w3ight.

It's childish and immature and just plain shitty.

I may hate myself, but I will never project it onto others.

You have No idea what there dealing with or why/ how they are the weight they are. Be it over or under.

Stay respectful, and don't judge. It's pretty damn easy actually.

[ccynophobia]

parents r making me eat

i was doing so good too :(

whatever it’s just soup i’ll manage i still feel so yucky from not being able to pvrg3 yesterday

[w4nt2bth1n]

realistically how hard is it to pvrg3

[holders0ftherealm]

I wish I had a flat stomach rather than this chub.

More under the cut

I want to cüt the f4t off my body. I feel sick looking at my body all the time. My bmi is so fucking high, nothing I'm doing is bringing the numbers down where I want them. I keep gaining the same shit over and over no matter what I do. I want a flat stomach, I want to feel my bones not just when I lay certain ways. I want my thighs to stop rubbing together. I want my legs to slim down. I want my arms to slim down so my "bingo wings" stop being so noticeable. It hurts a teacher called them bingo wings. It hurts that I am being spoke to and being scanned up and down. I want so much to happens.

I can't even pvrg3 a lot either since my mother seems to be EVERYWHERE and asking if I'm alright. I want hurt but in a way I'm not in control of and I want to be in control of this pain.

I want to be in control of everything but I don't seem to have "the willpower" it would help if my mother stopped forcing me to eat and giving me the "if you don't eat I won't eat" then complain she's hungry an hour or less later treatment. I want control and she's taking it from me.

I feel like I'm faking all of this because my weight and bmi are so fucking high... I feel disappointed in myself. I feel sick even being perceived with how big I am. I try and make myself look smaller but that doesn't work either. I want to cüt where things don't look right. I want to sl1c3 the f4t off like a hot knife to butter. This hurts and I feel I can't grasp control any more