The Roach's Recovery
If you are pro-ana/mia/any disordered behavior - get the fuck off my blog before I chop you up and eat you for my recovery meals.
About Me · Write a Letter
"Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option."
- Maya Angelou (via larmoyante)

"If she’s too good for you, my god, don’t leave her. Make an effort to be good enough instead."

I want to give

I spent all night listening to people say they were going to fatten me up, that it’s not that hard, that they’d spike my food with oil. They asked my weigh and said to gain 20. Put some meat on my scrawny ass.

And as this reflection grows, their words feel more like fucking acid than they do a soothing drink. Stop changing me, god someone stop. When will I ever be accepted for ME? My hair could use this and if I keep sitting out in that sun I’m gonna look twice my age. Why did I pain my nails that color they look like they’re rotten. 

Neighbor, M, came in again. This time I flipped, after another customer tried starting a fight with boyfriend, J, who was understandably pissed as neighbor harassed me about why I didn’t pick him. I’ve never done such a bitchy thing, I screamed, “Okay, bartender talking here, listen the fuck up! I don’t want no god damn fights in my bar, you hear me? You fuck one guy and suddenly they’re fucking entitled so NO FIGHTS.”

Yeah. I lost my shit. I cant be cute or meek, and nobody seems fucking pleased wih my appearance so hear me roar, assholes. 

Abilify isn’t doing much. Blows.



sleepovers when i’m 10: omg guys we’re going to sTAY UP ALL NIGHT AND PARTY!!!!

sleepovers when i’m 15: if you fucking make a sound after midnight you’re leaving

(via recovery-has-set-me-free)

I keep gaining weight.
Twenty pounds he says. Just gain twenty.
I cry and try not to vomit.



Kim Kardashian’s Tits need to be on your blog

who leaked ma nudes

I love her so much

1. Jumping off the bar in flip flops hurts. And my ankle might MIGHT be borked.

2. Panicking because you’re gaining weight from guilt free eating and consuming a butt load of laxatives to ‘make it better’ is a bad idea when you are still too scared to admit you might actually GASP DIGEST.

3. Abilify is alright.

4. Ouch my foot.

Pastel pink here I come

What the fuck has my life become?

I’m a bartender who lives above the bar with a musician. My musician boyfriend with black curly hair and gorgeous blue and orange eyes. With tattoos and a scarred past and a liken to sir YoYo Underby. And this beautiful man makes me eat, he cooks for me! What?!

He doesn’t approve of my sexist ideals. How I was raised - to serve my man hand and foot. Then, I meet this fucking musician. And he’s silly and ornery and good with kids. He has an autistic little brother and can’t help but become super dad. He’s more of a father towards her than her own dad. She misses mom. I hate working, I want my baby. Walmart didn’t even require this many hours. I am a 37+ hour a week employee! I’m drowning in tips and my boss is in awe after I made our first $1000 night in over a year.

I’m a hell of an employee, one my boss has already invited to Mexico for the winter. I have an amazing boyfriend, an amazing daughter, and a crush on one hell of an amazing woman. With all of this, shouldn’t it be enough? Am I a junkie for everything good? I’ve never had such financial freedom. I’ve never had such a great hook up. I’ve never run my fingers through thick, coarse curls. He says we won’t ever marry, I make him promise.

We are things thinged together. I am a thing and he is a thing and together we are thinged.

I make him promise - no children. No more. He’s sterile, he says. Part of me is thrilled.

A patron keeps trying to take me home. He’s 28, he’s got a woman. He’s tried twice. Neighbor showed up on door step last week. I was naked on the couch, I was giggling until I realized my 40 year old ex fuck buddy was standing in front of my 25 year old boyfriend.

I dove in head first with this beautiful musician. We were just supposed to be roommates. Now he has a song called ‘Rachel’, now he shares his bright blue boxers with me! He sits in that bar and makes sure I have someone to cry on when I get overwhelmed by perverted men.

I watched his band play last night. I partied with musicians! What is this life?! Am I growing up? You wanna know how they booked this show? I’m on a Abilify now. Yeah. Yeah so we go to my psychiatrist, they need a band for their 50th birthday. He calls his singer, bam. Show booked. Sunday we’re going to the fair while they play.

Life has taken a weird turn. My family despises me. I still despise me. But I have someone who will hold me when I start thinking pain is the answer.

Do I love this man? This STRANGER?

Probably. I’m nutter butters.

Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Wo-oah oh oh. :P