If Mom really didn’t want what was best for me, or do what was best for me, or know what was best for me, that means my entire life, my entire point of view, and my entire identity have been built on a false foundation.
Minaцитирует2 года назад
Oh. So we started going to church when we wanted something from God?” I asked.
“No.” Even though Mom was laughing when she said it, she sounded kind of nervous, maybe even a little annoyed.
Cezцитирует2 месяца назад
What the fuck? Nickelodeon is offering me three hundred thousand dollars in hush money to not talk publicly about my experience on the show?
Cezцитирует2 месяца назад
Anorexia is.
Anorexia is regal, in control, all-powerful. Bulimia is out of control, chaotic, pathetic.
Cezцитирует2 месяца назад
can’t let Mom know I’m into purple, since Mom prefers pink. She would be heartbroken if I suddenly announce that I’ve switched my favorite color to one that isn’t also hers. It is an honor that Mom cares about me so much that something like me having my own favorite color would devastate her. True love.
Amandla Ngcoboцитирует3 месяца назад
This is what recovery looks like.”
Amandla Ngcoboцитирует3 месяца назад
I’m allowed to hate someone else’s dream, even if it’s my reality.
Amandla Ngcoboцитирует3 месяца назад
I make myself throw up again and again and again. I don’t know how else to deal with everything happening around me. I don’t know how else to cope with so much of my life being so out of my control. I look around at the white walls. Maybe I should decorate the place. The prop master knocks on my door to deliver the buttersock for my next scene.
Amandla Ngcoboцитирует3 месяца назад
I make myself throw up again and again and again. I don’t know how else to deal with everything happening around me. I don’t know how else to cope with so much of my life being so out of my control. I look around at the white walls. Maybe I should decorate the place. The prop master knocks on my door to deliver the buttersock for my next scene.
Amandla Ngcoboцитирует3 месяца назад
I make myself throw up again and again and again. I don’t know how else to deal with everything happening around me. I don’t know how else to cope with so much of my life being so out of my control. I look around at the white walls. Maybe I should decorate the place. The prop master knocks on my door to deliver the buttersock for my next scene.