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Srimps is bugs.

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Body Image

-----If you're not a fan of discussing body issues than i urge you not to proceed and I am sending you love-------

A journal prompt for tonight

How have the media and societal standards affected your body image?

Back in 12th grade, there was a girl in my writing class that was taking a survey: "Have you ever felt self-conscious due to social media?" I said no. I lied.

Social media has been one of my favorite things, but has also been the bane of my existence. On one hand, I see it as a scrap book for my life, where I can share things with my friends and pretend I'm pretty cool for a little while. I enjoy sharing. Sometimes oversharing. I take it that stems from childhood trauma too, as most things seem to.

As of right now, I currently have instagram and tik tok off my phone. for one, cause I am in my senior year of college studying STEM and need to focus on finals, but also because I found myself in the never ending loop of comparison again.

I often see people online, and even knowing full well that social media is completely fake, I still compare and compare and beat myself up over stupid things. It's a dumb thing really, looking at a place full of filters and perfectly chosen photos and thinking "wow I must be a real wreck huh." simply untrue.

I deal with chronic bloating, and because of this over the past year and a half, have become very self conscious in my day to day life. My most recurring thought is "what if someone thinks I'm pregnant???" I have spent so much time pondering why that's my first thought and why I am so scared of people's perception of me (something I cannot control might I add). I've come to realize that I find myself doing that at times, looking at another woman and having that thought. But then I thought to myself, where did I get that from??? Well, I've chalked it up to social media. How many times do you see a celebrity post a photo where maybe her tummy isn't perfectly flat, and suddenly, the comments are flooded with pregnancy skeptics.

It's terrible. If people would stop commenting on other peoples bodies I think the world would be an easier place to live in. But either way, whether you like it or not, seeing repeated comments like that, you end up being conditioned into having those thoughts yourself. I once read somewhere years ago that your first thought is what you've been conditioned to think, and it's really your second thought that matters.

Social media now has also been overtaken by trends upon micro-trends upon consumerism galore. A terrible cycle really. Every week it seems there's a new buzzword for a new micro-trend, and then Shein picks it up and adds loads of clothes under that buzzword, and then millions of trend followers run after and spend all their money on those clothes, only to follow the next micro-trend a week later.

I found myself falling into this cycle I wont lie. I will always say that I hate trends, I've never been someone that NEEDS to follow trends. If a trend happens to be something I like, then I'll be on board and if not, I'll just keep doing my thing. But the problem is that with the rise of tik tok came the rise of these aesthetics and names, and then these tik tokers who make these aesthetics their entire personalities. And when you see someone have millions of people love them for sticking to one aesthetic, you get stressed and start telling yourself that you have to stick to one aesthetic or you'll be a poser, or people will stop liking you.

It's simply not true, it's a poison that the internet has fed us, and I'm convinced they've done it as a way to make fast fashion companies richer, but that's a story for another day.

What I want to say now is that it's all complete bullshit (I hope I'm allowed to swear on here still, I haven't been on tumblr in ages so if not tumblr i'm sorry). We are human beings, and human beings are complex creatures with complex brains. We weren't built to only like one specific thing. We were made to be curious, and continue to expand ourselves and our interests. We are not an "aesthetic."

I have spent many wasted hours and days sitting and pondering my entire existence because I don't fit into a box. I'm cottage-core, but I'm also goth, but I'm also punk, but also I'm goblin-core, and I'm also 2000s twee, but I'm also a 70s rocker, but also an antique 20s girl, but don't forget that I'm 90s grunge, oh and trust me, I'm also midwestern Americana and southern gothic. Read that sentence over again if you couldn't figure out whats wrong with it. and again and again and again until you get it.

WE. ARE NOT. AN AESTHETIC.

You are allowed to dress however you want. There are no rules. These "rules" that seem to be unspoken but very loud, they're completely fake. Made up by mouths that could not process the information their eyes received correctly.

We are so complex, and that complexity creates such beauty. It's quite cliche but when you really think about it, it holds: If we were all exactly the same the world would be a horribly boring place.

I hope this gave some solace to anyone who stumbled across it. I know it certainly quieted my mind in the way I needed it to today. If you're hear, thank you for taking the time to listen to what I had to say, and I hope if you related, your days get easier and your heart feels less heavy. Much love <3

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April 22nd, 2024

I have a couple things I feel the need to write about today. It's been a long and strange day honestly.

I stared listening to A Fine Frenzy again for the first time in a while. It got me thinking about my late middle school early high school days. Those days were difficult in their own ways but I miss how somewhat fearlessly I approached them. I was brave when I wanted to be.

I thought to myself "huh, maybe I'll start dressing a little twee inspired again just to bring inner kid me some joy." I feel like that era of myself was the last time I felt truly sure about myself and authentic. I miss that feeling.

Little me was just a kid trying to deal with trauma. Somedays I think about her and I want to cry. I want to sit with her and brush her hair, tell her that everything is going to be okay and work out exactly how it's supposed to. I want to tell her that hey, it's okay that she made some dumb mistakes. She once told everyone she knew fluent Swedish, and it was a complete lie, but she was trying to hard to be liked because it was so difficult to exist at the time. Her friends called her boring because she was so quiet. So she came up with little lies to make her more interesting.

Not to say that was right or anything, it was definitely a dumb thing to do, but in reality how many teenagers do that. I know plenty who did and it didn't cause any great deal of harm.

I had another realization today. When I was younger I had this idea drilled into my head that if you had nothing to hide than you didn't need privacy. My mother ready my diary once. I brushed it off because I though oh it doesn't matter if I don't have anything to hide. In reality, I didn't want to make her think I had something to hide, because then she wouldn't trust me. In reality, she broke my trust and disrespected my privacy. I wish I had realized that sooner, as it probably would've helped me in many other situations.

privacy is something everyone has a right to. It doesn't mean you're doing anything bad, or that you're keeping secrets from people. It means that sometimes you have things that you prefer to keep to yourself and THAT'S OKAY.

-------** if you're not a fan of talk of body image issues I'll ask you not to proceed**------

I also have some thoughts on body image that I think I need to write about. It's been on my mind for such a long time and maybe journaling will help that.

I've never had such trouble with body image...but maybe that's because I was always small and horribly thin...I was always "the little one" growing up. Then all of a sudden I was called "curvier" than my sister. Then, my mother started being more vocal about criticizing her body and those of others. Then I got diagnosed with IBS and PMDD and began experiencing chronic pain and bloating. And suddenly here I am, sitting in a random college building at 8:03pm on a Monday night, bloated and feeling horrible about my body and wanting to go home and crawl into my bed and never come back out.

it's very dramatic I know, sometimes my silly brain decides to have a flare for the dramatics. I promise though, I was never a theatre kid.

Last night in my dream, an old school mate of mine told me I had "put on some weight." I woke up feeling very weird. My OCD likes to tell me that I have a binge eating disorder and it's only a matter of time before I become horribly unhealthy.

My logical brain tries to tell me otherwise though. I often have to tell myself " you have a chronic, incurable digestive disorder and are also a woman with organs that need to be protected. it's okay that your tummy isn't perfectly flat."

Your thoughts create your reality. Last night I read the part in Dodie's book about skin picking, something I also struggle with, and I came across the quote:

"If you tell the world you're beautiful, it will believe you, and then you'll start believing it too."

And I plan to write that on every mirror in my room. I want to engrave it on my brain, inside my eyelids, stare at it all hours of the day until my stubborn brain is able to accept it. I want to live my life in this way. I just desire to be a person who exudes light. I want to exude love. I have grown up in fight or flight mode and I am tired. I am tired of feeling like no matter what I do, I will be the villain. I constantly feel as though I am somehow inherently evil.

I am not, and I never have been. I have just spoken up for myself and set boundaries over the years, and sometimes people do not like that. And when they especially don't like that, they make you out to be the villain. You will never be the protagonist in everyones book.

Those are my thoughts for the night. I'll do a separate post about some body image prompts. I enjoy journalling prompts, but this post is becoming quite long. purely organizational. Good night <3

[alwaysinlimbo]

A path turn for this account

Incase anyone stumbles across this account, whether on accident or on their journey to run away to a forest and become moss, I thought I would make it clear exactly what's going on. This shall become a sort of journal for myself in order to help myself and maybe some others through some day to day difficulties in the mind and body of such a mortal and human being.

I thought "oh maybe i'll write a bunch of diary entries and then turn them into a book like Dodie did." I decided otherwise, I think publishing a book costs a lot. but "it's okay" I thought "at least there's Tumblr."

So welcome to my little diary, and I hope if you happen to stumble upon it, it'll maybe help you in some way shape or form.

Much love.

[alwaysinlimbo]

Heart Sampler is finally done! by beanzmcgee

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INCREDIBLE DRESSES IN ART (53/∞) Portrait of an Elegant Lady by Francois Bunery

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Lutz Bacher, Appropriated Celestial Photographs, (2012)

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King by Florence + The Machine

Art by Edmund Blair Leighton

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I miss the nostalgia of getting on Skype at 8pm on a warm June night, with the window open, my bed directly underneath. Banter back and forth with friends, playing Minecraft without a care in the world, the music eliciting some strange nostalgia for a time I was only then experiencing in the present, a moment I feel for now. I remember the feeling of the quilted comforter under my thighs so well, I can feel it now. I wore my cat pajama shorts that had ridden up a bit, with a grey t-shirt. I believe I had to throw on a cardigan, for there was a subtle summer breeze coming in through the window, through the screen, blowing my hair which was much shorter then.

I have tried for years, to find that feeling again and wear it like a blanket. But alas, the feeling has come and gone, lost to the passing of time, leaving only but this strange longing in its place.

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a study of the moon

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I can’t stop listening to ‘First Day of my Life’ and it’s all your fault.

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Ig: @tuvozenaerosol

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2008

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I could cry, for I feel nothing but loved.

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