I realize how unsure I am of every decision I make now that I’m in recovery.
After being so sick for so many years I don’t know how to act or think like a normal person and it’s terrifying.
I miss the non existent sleep schedule. I miss the hiding, I miss knowing how badly I could vandalize myself. I miss the planning. I miss going completely numb. I was so good at the demolition of my own body. I’ve never been good at anything but that.
All I want to do is relapse and know what I’m doing for fvcking once.
Why didn’t I go out with a bang. Why did I choose recovery. Fvcking why.
I know how to be depressed so much better than how to properly function and just that fact alone is almost enough for relapse every time I have an episode.
This post goes harder than any post has ever gone before.
the sheer amount of Fucks Not Given in these photos is creating a Black Hole Of Ungiven Fucks, sucking in all the bullshit over the Fuck You event horizon and trapping it so the bullshit canβt escape. Itβs gorgeous.Β