I'm Kay. 20.


*Possible trigger warning*
I am a recovery blog, but also a personal blog, so may be triggering at times. I tag everything tw/ed/numbers/etc.*


My pagan blog

My nature/good vibes blog

trashfriend:

little things that actually make a difference to general life happiness:
•drinking lots of water
•eating fresh fruit
•thinking positively about yourself and others
•washing your face twice a day
•changing your sheets once a week
•hot baths with Epsom salts
•face masks using from things in your house
•sleeping more than 7 hours per night
•reorganizing your clothes, makeup, possessions etc
•keeping your living space clean

10.01.14

  • Ate all 3 meals, and kinda started the morning with a bad body image, but I’m feeling okay now. 
  • Feeling a little funky but the sleeping pills last night, but not anything to interfere with my day
  • Really stressing over my chem test next week, but actually feel kind of prepared for my dosage calc midterm tomorrow
  • Talked things out with Jon, about how everything is stressing me out, but he said the relationship isn’t going anywhere
  • I’ve spent the afternoon studying, and some of it is sticking with me
  • Gonna go try some yoga for the first time, and then shower and meditate.
  • Thinking of doing a small good luck charm for tomorrow if I have energy, then studying and sleep!
  • Feeling much calmer now, and maybe a little happier than I was this morning.
Reblogged from inkskinned  798 notes

hello bone marrow and chicken stew and tummy tuck and laxative and clutching your skin as if it was poison hello rocky inner teeth
hello breaking

flight-or-flight and strung wire, you are
coughing up the lunch your mother made you and
somehow not
crying

you’re champagne drunk and posing in pictures with absolute control, hand on hip, arms at wide angles, smile as if you are a tuned harp instead of an accident waiting to happen, smile as if you’ve only ever tasted good food and warm stomachs

teeter-heels, small dress, hands that fumble for the lightswitch before they get to his pants.

you are sick nights, weak moonlight, you are counting how many bridges you can set alight in one fell swoop, you are jaundice nobody seems to notice even if they can see right through you

you are small notes at the bottom of your paper: don’t eat, you will
hate yourself later

liquor bottle clutched in little fist. you are the plague horse. your breath gives it away.
inside you are rotting.
everybody knows and no one says anything.

bad voices, bad night, bad life. bad brain allergic to back fat. you want to dig worm fingers into clay skin, come up with ugly roots, you want to let the desert sand erase you.

but your waver-heart still beats, however weak. some part of you holds on. some part of you still dreams.

you could be firefly, you could be midnight star, you could fight this whole thing off.

hello, unbroken stalactite crystals of a body like a cave. hello visions of mother’s sugar cookies and cupcake icing, hello shaky hands folding in prayer, hello soft haybales and full breath and daisy chains

no you may not be okay,
but for what it’s worth,
tonight, you will stay.

By Arsenic: part 4/9 in a series // r.i.d