I Swear It’s Following Me Around. I’ve Told People About It, But They Don’t Believe Me. In The
I swear it’s following me around. I’ve told people about it, but they don’t believe me. In the shower, I’m terrified to close my eyes. What if it sneaks in from the drain and puts its skeleton hands around my waist and won’t let go until I’m drowning under the spray of water and can no longer scream for help? I lay in bed at night as it knocks at my window. “Let me in”. No. “Let me in”. I close my eyes but then the feeling comes back again and I realize now that I’ve opened the window. Now it’s staring at me. It grins. It tells me it’s sweet stories, tongue licking at my ear as it lulls me to sleep. But in the morning, when I wake, I can barely move. I’m sluggish, disoriented, confused. Each step is like standing on hot coals, but I cannot get my body to move further than the end of my bedroom. And I hear it again, “Don’t go out there. Stay in here. It’s so much better in here. Isn’t it?” I stand as still as a painting as the voice repeats itself over and over. I know it won’t stop until I’m under the covers, until I’m in bed and don’t leave until I’m nothing but a skeleton and some tears. But I slam my first against the door. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I mumble under my breath, but she cannot hear me. “What did you say darling? I know you’ll feel better once you get back to bed…” I slump against the door, wondering if maybe the bed is the safe haven I’ve always been searching for. But then that feeling comes back. “Im hungry.” I say defiantly, as I rip the door open. There is no one there. Just wisps of black flying out the window. But I know she’ll be back. But as I slip into the bathroom, I tremble as I stand on the scale. I hope for above 100. That’s all I need. Something to cling on to. I hear her claws against the window but I stare at the numbers until my eyes lose focus. 99. I can deal with that. I lift my shirt, my ribs are showing, but when I run my fingers along the expanse of my body, I do not feel all bones and misery. She claws again. “You’ll feel better when you don’t eat.” She whispers from outside. But how can I feel better when I can barely stand? How can I feel better when my body starts to collapse inside itself imploding like a broken star? I stumble out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. “There’s nothing here you want.” She says. But my stomach is growling and I don’t care what I eat anymore as long as it’s food. No more crackers. No more skipped meals. No more fainting. I read a book about a girl with an eating disorder. Bulimia. She died alone in a seedy hotel room when she threw up one too many times and ripped her esophagus clean open. Choking to death, in order to be perfect. I may be skin and bones and I may think about dying. But I will not let this monster take me. She speaks kind words into my ears and part of me wishes for the warmth of my bed, the calm of my room. Maybe she is right. Maybe everything will be better when just the skeleton of me exists. And I turn around and take a step towards my room, and she smiles. “Good girl,” She coos, like I’m a little baby, learning how to walk. But I’m learning much more than how to walk, im learning how to survive, how to be perfect. But someone once told me that there was no such thing as perfect, and that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And the last time he told me I was beautiful, my heart sank into the depth of the earth, growing like a tree ready to reach the sunlight above. So I reach for that candy bar, and she screams, “Stop stop stop stop. What do you think you’re doing??” And I remember what it feels like to eat cotton balls, the cloth sticking to my mouth like peanut butter, but it was not peanut butter. I remember checking boxes for calories, when I should have been checking for prices. I remember crying alone in my room, wondering who’s going to save me, or maybe I’ll die alone in a hotel room, like that girl in that book. But when I bite into that candy bar, the monster dissipates. I no longer have to hear her cries, her soft words, her screams. And suddenly I remember how good chocolate tastes, how real food feels in my mouth. And when my friend calls me to go to dinner, I reply “yes”. This will be my first full meal in two months. I think I’m going to cherish it.
Melissa Rose
More Posts from Melissarose47 and Others
Don’t Trust Jung Hoseok
When you look up “whiplash” in the dictionary, all you see is this
He can be r e al cu t e one second
And real n o T CUTE the next
Squishiest squish I wanna squish his lil cheeks
Nvm
It’s okay though bc he’s a real soft boy
Excuse me sir put that thing back where it came from or so HE L P M E
I wanna protect him:(((
But I’m also extremely ready to fight
Good luck to all the hobi stans out there
Bc your asses will need it
reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
Me without You
I cannot tell if the reason I now want to be skin and bones is because you left me. I cannot tell if that was the match hitting the strike or just some kindle to a roaring flame. Did I always feel this way? There are no words left, because you stole them all. You could have saved me an explanation, but I guess my tears were answer enough. I thought I would become a person, but I’m less now than I ever was. Just a pebble in an ocean, instead of a boulder in a pond. When you feel deep in your heart and soul that you do not matter, things start to not matter. Life does not matter. Your health does not matter. So while I try to see the inside of my skeleton, I hope she was worth it, while I sit here and die.
BEST BTS AT MAMA MOMENTS
THE INCREDIBLE BODY ROLLS AT MIC DROP REMIX
TAEHYUNG SHOWING HIS BACK
JUNGKOOK FLOATING IN THE AIR
JIMIN AND JHOPE’S DANCES
THAT KEPT GETTING NOTHING BUT BETTER THROUGH THE YEARS
THE LEGENDARY STAGE WHERE JIMIN RIPPED HIS SHIRT
MAMA IS V BEING AT THE TOILET AND RUNNING TO SEE GALLANT (little does he know in the future gallant will cover his song Singularity)
MAMA IS ALSO V RUNNING FROM THE TOILET TO SEE JOHN LEGEND (Little does he know he will not only meet him later but sign his love yourself album to him)
MAMA IS WHEN WE REALIZED JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG HEART
MAMA IS THE INTERACTIONS BEWTWEEN THE ARTISTS
THE SHOCKED FACES OF A FIRST WIN
MAMA IS THE TEARS OF HARDSHIPS
MAMA IS THE TEARS OF JOY
MAMA IS THE EMOTIONS OF A UNITED TEAM …
GETTING TOGETHER FOR A HUG TO CELEBRATE A WIN
MAMA IS EVERY MEMBER OF BTS GIVING HIS ALL FOR A PERFECT STAGE THAT WILL BECOME A WONDROUS MEMORY. MAMA IS THIS AND MORE.
I don't think you understand when I say you broke my heart. No, no, no. You took a hammer to my heart and ground it into dust, until the only thing left was for the wind to blow it away. I don't believe in love anymore. There's no truth in that statement. "I loved a boy who didn't love me back" sounds tragic. But "I loved a boy who pretended to love me back" is even worse. Tears were wasted on an empty corpse, walking through the streets, telling me I'm beautiful, that I'm funny, that any guy would be lucky to have me. You say you keep your distance from people, but I think it's more of the fact that you don't want to rely on anyone when you're in trouble. You don't want your heart to hurt when someone dies. You don't want your thoughts to race when you don't know where she is or if she's safe. You'd rather pretend that everything's okay and then wait for the explosion. But while debris is raining down and blood is staining your clothes and the only sounds you hear are screams and the ringing in your ears, you'll still be able to smile. Because you didn't give a fuck about the victim. "Victim? I didn't even know her name..."
Melissa Rose
Can we just talk about this lovely relationship that is YOONSEOK.
We have Min Yoongi AKA SUGA “i don’t give a shit, I dont give a fuck” who is so damn soft for Hoseok it’s not even funny. Okae so yes, Yoongi is far from an apathetic or uncaring person (he’s secretly a cheeseball) but he is straight forward, maybe even rather brash sometimes. Yoongi is a softie for his dongsaengs, and it’s really pretty obvious.
I could seriously go on a rant about Yoongi really, but let’s bring it back to the main point.
Keep reading
I binged today and now I feel so gross. I'm so full that I feel sick. 🤢
So I've been super super anxious lately. Started a new job, went back to school after summer break. And now I'm not eating. Less in a purposeful way, but more in a im not hungry and I don't know what to do about it way. I need help. But I have no idea what to do. I can't go to inpatient hospitalization because I'll probably lose my job. And I can't miss school. But everything is getting so difficult. And I'm so lost and so confused. If you have any advice, please share. I could really use it.
CAN YOU PLEASE FUCKING USE THE ‘READ MORE’ TOOL IN YOUR FICS IM SICK OF SCROLLING THROUGH FIVE THOUSAND WORDS OF YOUR ‘TOTALLY ORIGINAL’ JUNGKOOK X JIMIN COFFEE SHOP AU IN THE WRONG TAGS
It's a systematic shutdown. You will fail that test. You have no memory. You will forget that speech. Forget how to get to work. And when finally there, you will break down harder than you have ever imagined. Why are my hands shaking when my mind is so still? How can I peel back each layer of skin on my fingertips and still see God? My ghost is very gifted. However, I am not. Let me sink into this chair, the floor, the bed. Whatever holds me still and forget I ever had a name, even something as trivial as a life. When moss grows on trees people do not remark on its tentativeness, it's parasitic nature. It's ugly color. They say 'this shows me the way and covers the dead trees in life'. So when I'm screaming louder than my lungs have ever screamed and my fists make contact with my head, there is no loudness in my heart. My heart wants to die like the rest of me. But my mind hovers over my body like Brutus over Caesar and triumphs in its take over. The lion once waiting with bated breath, now cowers in hopes that maybe death will be kind and sweet. But I am now being lowered into the ground. Finding that glorious cage of health and happiness. It slips away from me every once and awhile. It hides itself, in hopes of teaching me a lesson. But this time, I'm not sure if we'll ever see each other again.
Melissa Rose
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I write my own poetry and fiction novels! I also love K-Pop, dancing, anime and sleeping 💙
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