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Growing up with parents that hate each other

Your home is a battlefield.

You learn that alcohol makes people scary. You might never touch it, or use it to drink away the stress, depending how your life goes. You become sleep deprived, because your parents fight and scream into the night. And because you’re used to bumps and crashes being a punch or a throw, so loud noises bring up that fear inside of you, and you jump 8 feet at a pan falling over. Other people yelling makes you terrified they’re going to hit you, but you’ve learned the only thing to do is yell back, louder. You get scared of relationships, because you learn from an early age, marriage is beating and getting raped and getting screamed at.

You have to keep secrets from the rest of your family. About things like why mommy’s eye is bruised. When your little you might let things about the horrible state at home slip, don’t worry, your parents will train you to shut up quick. You also learn to keep secrets from your parents. You pretend your sleeping when they beat eachother up in the hallway, because you’re scared they’ll involve you. They protect you from this as a child, but as you grow, you learn more and more the terrifying truth. And you learn to not tell anyone anything.

School effing sucks. Open houses make you extremely sad, because you see other families walk around togethe, caring about their child’s accomplishments and life, while you tagged along with another family. Teachers are both confused and sympathetic. You never get enough sleep, so getting up early is very difficult. You get envious after a break, when people share that they went on vacations with their families. You’ll start to wonder what you did to not deserve that, and blame yourself even more.

Because your parents drink all day and night, you’ll learn to find your own family in your friends. Talking to them about your family is super weird for the first time, because you learn all parents don’t hate eachother behing closed doors (maybe, this is hard for you to believe.) You’ll sleep over at their house for weeks, and finale get to sleep without screaming filling the house. You find it hard to understand how other families don’t tell eachother to die in a fire daily!

When you come home, your parents scream about you being over at your friends house all the time, and it hits you hard. They scream about you a lot. Obviously you don't want to hear this. So you put in headphones as loud as they go. You’re out the door again in a couple days. You learn to distance yourself as much as a kid can.

Also, me personally, I got obsessed with “childish things”, because I never really got a “childhood”, and wanted to make/experience one as best I can.

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It’s like a scream in your head. All the time. It’s persistent, and the body does its best to relieve it. The tongue tries to keep up with rapid thoughts through fast speech, and your legs bolt as they walk hard through the streets and try to appease the frantic pulses of the brain. When it’s quiet, it also takes hold of the body, and makes your eyes burn because the body is exhausted and it can’t sleep. It’s all the same living thing, just sometimes you swing from the chandeliers, and other times you could give a shit about your place in this world, or wear sweats for a living. And all the time, it’s a stem in your brain that is rooted in the core. The constant pulse is worse than the highs, or lows. It is your brain, and you don’t know any better, because you’ve had it since you were born. Dramatic, emotional, daring, sensitive, passionate, wild, tired.

Erica Loberg on hypomania (via watercolourstorm)

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Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.

Ernest Hemingway  (via asking-jude)

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I switch so quickly so aggressively that it makes me want to puke

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When she didn’t get out of her bed for days, instead of calling it depression, you called her lazy. When she was high as the sky one days, jumping off of roofs for fun and lower than hell on other days wallowing in her misery, instead of calling it bipolar disorder, you called her hormonal. When she couldn’t talk to people on phone, or couldn’t hold eye contact even for a millisecond, with panic attacks in public places, instead of calling it anxiety, you called her shy and introvert. When she asked for help, a diagnosis, someone to talk to, instead of calling a doctor for an appointment, you called her an attention seeker. Soon depression was her best friend, always lulling her to sleep. Soon bipolar was the cool Aunt who couldn’t keep her thoughts under control. Soon anxiety was that second cousin who touched her every once in a while when no one was looking. Soon you called a doctor only for him to call her time of death.

@justscribbledwords

(via justscribbledwords)

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Source

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The worst type of torture is watching your mental illness slowly fuck up your life

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Thinspo Tip

A spoon full of apple cider vinegar twice a day helps you lose weight and detox your body, mix that with fasting and tons of water and you’re guaranteed to drop atleast 5 poundsthe next 3 days, I’ve done it myself. I know it works

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Halloween costume.. fat poking out :/

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Who I want to be.

Dainty, fragile, thin, pale, red lips, dark hair, smooth, graceful, angelic, bones out, open minded, beautiful, and happy.

Each reblog is a wish for the same.

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it feels like I’m constantly wearing a fatsuit, I wish I could rip open the stitches and step out of it.

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new blog : was @thinningbeautyy

(I DO NOT SUPPORT EATING DISORDERS, I SUPPORT R3COVERY, JUST NOT IN IT)

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