#weight loss psychologist

[fatliberation]

they have a point though. you wouldn't need everyone to accommodate you if you just lost weight, but you're too lazy to stick to a healthy diet and exercise. it's that simple. I'd like to see you back up your claims, but you have no proof. you have got to stop lying to yourselves and face the facts

Must I go through this again? Fine. FINE. You guys are working my nerves today. You want to talk about facing the facts? Let's face the fucking facts.

In 2022, the US market cap of the weight loss industry was $75 billion [1, 3]. In 2021, the global market cap of the weight loss industry was estimated at $224.27 billion [2]. 

In 2020, the market shrunk by about 25%, but rebounded and then some since then [1, 3] By 2030, the global weight loss industry is expected to be valued at $405.4 billion [2]. If diets really worked, this industry would fall overnight. 

1. LaRosa, J. March 10, 2022. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Shrinks by 25% in 2020 with Pandemic, but Rebounds in 2021." Market Research Blog. 2. Staff. February 09, 2023. "[Latest] Global Weight Loss and Weight Management Market Size/Share Worth." Facts and Factors Research. 3. LaRosa, J. March 27, 2023. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Partially Recovers from the Pandemic." Market Research Blog.

Over 50 years of research conclusively demonstrates that virtually everyone who intentionally loses weight by manipulating their eating and exercise habits will regain the weight they lost within 3-5 years. And 75% will actually regain more weight than they lost [4].

4. Mann, T., Tomiyama, A.J., Westling, E., Lew, A.M., Samuels, B., Chatman, J. (2007). "Medicare’s Search For Effective Obesity Treatments: Diets Are Not The Answer." The American Psychologist, 62, 220-233. U.S. National Library of Medicine, Apr. 2007.

The annual odds of a fat person attaining a so-called “normal” weight and maintaining that for 5 years is approximately 1 in 1000 [5].

5. Fildes, A., Charlton, J., Rudisill, C., Littlejohns, P., Prevost, A.T., & Gulliford, M.C. (2015). “Probability of an Obese Person Attaining Normal Body Weight: Cohort Study Using Electronic Health Records.” American Journal of Public Health, July 16, 2015: e1–e6.

Doctors became so desperate that they resorted to amputating parts of the digestive tract (bariatric surgery) in the hopes that it might finally result in long-term weight-loss. Except that doesn’t work either. [6] And it turns out it causes death [7],  addiction [8], malnutrition [9], and suicide [7].

6. Magro, Daniéla Oliviera, et al. “Long-Term Weight Regain after Gastric Bypass: A 5-Year Prospective Study - Obesity Surgery.” SpringerLink, 8 Apr. 2008. 7. Omalu, Bennet I, et al. “Death Rates and Causes of Death After Bariatric Surgery for Pennsylvania Residents, 1995 to 2004.” Jama Network, 1 Oct. 2007.  8. King, Wendy C., et al. “Prevalence of Alcohol Use Disorders Before and After Bariatric Surgery.” Jama Network, 20 June 2012.  9. Gletsu-Miller, Nana, and Breanne N. Wright. “Mineral Malnutrition Following Bariatric Surgery.” Advances In Nutrition: An International Review Journal, Sept. 2013.

Evidence suggests that repeatedly losing and gaining weight is linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes and altered immune function [10].

10. Tomiyama, A Janet, et al. “Long‐term Effects of Dieting: Is Weight Loss Related to Health?” Social and Personality Psychology Compass, 6 July 2017.

Prescribed weight loss is the leading predictor of eating disorders [11].

11. Patton, GC, et al. “Onset of Adolescent Eating Disorders: Population Based Cohort Study over 3 Years.” BMJ (Clinical Research Ed.), 20 Mar. 1999.

The idea that “obesity” is unhealthy and can cause or exacerbate illnesses is a biased misrepresentation of the scientific literature that is informed more by bigotry than credible science [12]. 

12. Medvedyuk, Stella, et al. “Ideology, Obesity and the Social Determinants of Health: A Critical Analysis of the Obesity and Health Relationship” Taylor & Francis Online, 7 June 2017.

“Obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition [13, 14] and its appearance may be a protective response to the onset of numerous chronic conditions generated from currently unknown causes [15, 16, 17, 18].

13. Kahn, BB, and JS Flier. “Obesity and Insulin Resistance.” The Journal of Clinical Investigation, Aug. 2000. 14. Cofield, Stacey S, et al. “Use of Causal Language in Observational Studies of Obesity and Nutrition.” Obesity Facts, 3 Dec. 2010.  15. Lavie, Carl J, et al. “Obesity and Cardiovascular Disease: Risk Factor, Paradox, and Impact of Weight Loss.” Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 26 May 2009.  16. Uretsky, Seth, et al. “Obesity Paradox in Patients with Hypertension and Coronary Artery Disease.” The American Journal of Medicine, Oct. 2007.  17. Mullen, John T, et al. “The Obesity Paradox: Body Mass Index and Outcomes in Patients Undergoing Nonbariatric General Surgery.” Annals of Surgery, July 2005. 18. Tseng, Chin-Hsiao. “Obesity Paradox: Differential Effects on Cancer and Noncancer Mortality in Patients with Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus.” Atherosclerosis, Jan. 2013.

Fatness was associated with only 1/3 the associated deaths that previous research estimated and being “overweight” conferred no increased risk at all, and may even be a protective factor against all-causes mortality relative to lower weight categories [19].

19. Flegal, Katherine M. “The Obesity Wars and the Education of a Researcher: A Personal Account.” Progress in Cardiovascular Diseases, 15 June 2021.

Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called “normal weight” people are “unhealthy” whereas about 50% of so-called “overweight” people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone [20]. 

20. Rey-López, JP, et al. “The Prevalence of Metabolically Healthy Obesity: A Systematic Review and Critical Evaluation of the Definitions Used.” Obesity Reviews : An Official Journal of the International Association for the Study of Obesity, 15 Oct. 2014.

While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national obesity rates (nearly 35% for adults and 18% for kids), the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as fat overnight—to match international guidelines. But critics noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs [21].

21. Butler, Kiera. “Why BMI Is a Big Fat Scam.” Mother Jones, 25 Aug. 2014. 

Body size is largely determined by genetics [22].

22. Wardle, J. Carnell, C. Haworth, R. Plomin. “Evidence for a strong genetic influence on childhood adiposity despite the force of the obesogenic environment” American Journal of Clinical Nutrition Vol. 87, No. 2, Pages 398-404, February 2008.

Healthy lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index [23].  

23. Matheson, Eric M, et al. “Healthy Lifestyle Habits and Mortality in Overweight and Obese Individuals.” Journal of the American Board of Family Medicine : JABFM, U.S. National Library of Medicine, 25 Feb. 2012.

Weight stigma itself is deadly. Research shows that weight-based discrimination increases risk of death by 60% [24].

24. Sutin, Angela R., et al. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality .” Association for Psychological Science, 25 Sept. 2015.

Fat stigma in the medical establishment [25] and society at large arguably [26] kills more fat people than fat does [27, 28, 29].

25. Puhl, Rebecca, and Kelly D. Bronwell. “Bias, Discrimination, and Obesity.” Obesity Research, 6 Sept. 2012. 26. Engber, Daniel. “Glutton Intolerance: What If a War on Obesity Only Makes the Problem Worse?” Slate, 5 Oct. 2009.  27. Teachman, B. A., Gapinski, K. D., Brownell, K. D., Rawlins, M., & Jeyaram, S. (2003). Demonstrations of implicit anti-fat bias: The impact of providing causal information and evoking empathy. Health Psychology, 22(1), 68–78. 28. Chastain, Ragen. “So My Doctor Tried to Kill Me.” Dances With Fat, 15 Dec. 2009. 29. Sutin, Angelina R, Yannick Stephan, and Antonio Terraciano. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality.” Psychological Science, 26 Nov. 2015.

There's my "proof." Where is yours?

#inbox #fat liberation #fat acceptance #fat activism #anti fatness #anti fat bias #anti diet #resources #facts #weight science #save

[wellnesspacked]

Get The Best Weight Loss Therapy in USA

If you want to get the best Weight Loss Therapy in USA, then Packed Wellness is a great place for you. Packed Wellness is the leading Psychologist in San Diego. Perlman Clinic started Packed Wellness to offer more clinically-based services around health and well-being. By encouraging us to explore our thoughts and behaviors, we are empowered to regain control over our lives and adopt healthier habits. Need more info? Call us at [phone] or visit https://www.packedwellness.com 

#Weight Loss Therapy #Psychologist San Diego

[zangtang]

Learning about your own eating habits, keeping track of them and how you feel, is a great starting point if you're struggling. It's true we're coming at it from a different angle than the article, but knowing how your mind tricks you and accommodates what you think are extra treats may well help in the long run.

#fat ai #fat ai man

[luxuourr]

WHEN YOU know LOA AND FEEL FAT/SKINNY/INSECURE.

currently made this post for me and everyone who has these issues

I've got alot of trauma , growing up as the chubby cute baby became taunts and mockery, i never looked fat and ugly and anything like this , I was always admired everywhere for my body except at my house and over the years it's become my trauma, my mom being a psychologist and still not realizing her solutions from the internet, telling me my leptin hormone is shit,my metabolism is so slow or I have PCOS as an intersex it never made sense, she never did make any sense and I know some people in this community have been struggling and are struggling with weight loss since for years. I have come across this manifesting coach, most of y'all know called electrasoul and for context they struggled with body image issues and weight loss too until it clicked in their mind. Those are some of the most important points I made you'll love. You will fall in love with this guys.

SHE DID NOT CHANGE HER DIET, YOU DONT HAVE TO EITHER.

"WTF that's not true, impossible, nah you need to count your calories and workout to loose weight , ain't no way my lifestyle doesn't have to change and brain needs to be controlled", so it really works like that. First of all this drill of changing diets and workouts that has been draining us people who wanna loose weight has been going on since we have been mature, the biggest enemy of our weight has been our own parents, if you're skinny, you're too skinny. if you're healthy, you're too healthy but you now need to find yourself a balance but it'll only come if you're a LOA person and finally have the will to loose weight, throw logic and society's diets and workouts out rn , if you're too tired for that , you don't need it. The brain is the strongest part of your body because it's capable of doing things you'd never imagine.

KNOWING AND STATE

first you need to know what you want, so you wanna gain or loose weight , or you want a healthy weight? ok did you choose what you want now let's proceed.

all your life they told you to eat less otherwise you'd be overweight and eat more to gain weight but sometimes underweight people genuinely eat enough or don't like eating and don't gain weight and sometimes people who are overweight barely eat at all, it's just their mind " oh I drink water and gain weight " ofc bro you really drilled it in your mind to be this way. The essential step is that don't look for logic. Law of assumption was made to remind you nevillie didn't need knowledge to marry the woman of his dreams and you don't need logic or calories In the world of law of assumption where you made rules. ARE CALORIES EVEN REAL, IS DIETING SOMETHING WHEN YOU ARE GOD?? YOU'RE CREATING THIS ALL THEN WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO OTHER HUMANS AND THEIR BS WHEN ITS YOUR LIFE.

dieting and workouts is for the weak, the true mind power lies in you, it is now your choice to turn your weaknesses into strengths, It is now your choice to eat food knowing you're gonna loose and reach your body goals with it. So apparently the best way and a good example of this , that you will understand what I mean is, you can still eat food staying naturally in the state or affirming.

calories are nothing to me in my life

eating makes me loose / gain weight

no matter what I do, I have my dream body

my metabolism is slow/fast ( if you wanna loose or gain weight )

No matter what I eat, whatever i do, however I eat, binge or die and cry or spiral, I have to gain / loose weight

this is literally my world so I have decided and have my ideal body and weight.

These are the examples of simple affirmations you can use to persist, even while eating.

DONT COUNT YOUR CALORIES

if you truly believe in LOA stop counting calories , calories is a man made thing , bro who tf even found out about something that you can't see, do fruits grow and are labelled low or high cals? did they experiment people for fat or thin, to find out that?? nahh bffr ☹️ giving the control of your life to some dumbass calories scientists made. We don't believe in that. Girl you're just having a maintained body for the rest of your life no matter what ✊🏻

IT IS YOUR CHOICE

whether you can start affirming and assuming and knowing that you're at your ideal weight , food makes you loose or gain weight or tire yourself with diets and workout if you're already tired from every aspect of your life.

for someone struggling with PTSD AND DEPRESSION

This is an honest advice, goodluck loosing/gaining weight/ getting your ideal body.

you don't have to stop all those sugary stuff and things want, just assume you can do this. ✊🏻🌹

#law of assumption #affirmations #law of manifestation #manifestation #revision #subliminal #void #void state #void success #subliminals

[gravytrainnaturebornn]

the power of self-talk in the fight against self-sabotage (for binge-eaters and ppl who have never been skinny🫶)

disclaimer: this is not proana. this is for people who struggle with binge eating as a form of self-sabotage, emotional comfort, self harm, etc. overeating can cause just as much harm physically and mentally as undereating. please be safe. now, on with the show!

weight loss, but specifically extreme weight loss, equals change. change equals discomfort, so people tend to subconsciously avoid change. this is why starting to see progress on the scale or your body can trigger the urge to self-sabotage that progress and binge eat.

for people who have been big their whole lives, that fear is heightened by the fact that being thin is completely uncharted territory. by following through, youre entering a new world that youve never navigated before. your brain might get scared, say its much too big a mountain to climb, and tell you to give up. its easier to say fuck it because for most people, unhappiness is a comfort zone. if youre used to hating your body and wanting it to change, then actually *changing* it poses a very serious threat to your comfort and the lifestyle youre used to.

questions like: "what if i reach my goal and im still unhappy/unattractive?" "what if i dont look like myself?" "what if i reach my goal, cant sustain it, and then i gain it all back and humiliate myself?" can all make someone feel anxious about succeeding in their weight loss journey. and for people with overeating issues, this is a big trigger for binge episodes.

so how do you combat this instinct to self sabotage? well, im not a psychologist so take this with a grain of salt, but for me it helps to soothe these subconscious fears and train the brain to fight these urges. self-talk and thought-correction play a HUGE role in rewiring the pathways in your brain that lead you to bingeing. truly, practice and consistency are the only things that are going to cause a big change, so stick with it !

correcting problematic thoughts *immediately* when they form is key to preventing problematic behavior in the future, and that starts with being able to identify those thoughts. the moment you catch yourself thinking about food, cut yourself off with a correction. maybe even think about food on purpose a few times to practice recognizing and correcting it.

for example, if you just ate an hour ago, chances are youre not actually hungry yet. tell yourself that as soon as you realize youre thinking about food. i like to tell myself "i dont need to eat, and im not gonna sabotage myself by eating that." by acknowledging it and calling it what it is--literally an attack, by my brain, on my own progress--i immediately attach a sense of accountability to the actions that follow. there's no deniability. its no longer a passive choice. theres no mindless eating or "i wasnt thinking about it." if i eat after acknowledging the act of eating as self-sabotage, then that is me *actively* choosing self-sabotage over self-control. accountability alone can change a lot if you let it.

what i tell myself changes depending on the situation, but i find that repeating some of these phrases throughout the day helps to fight urges in general, and certain ones help for specific cravings and situations.

below are some examples of things i tell myself that have helped me fight the urge to self sabotage. they dont all have to be true when you first say them, the point is training your brain to think a certain way. it may feel unnatural at first, but the more you say them the more natural it becomes, until eventually it becomes apart of the way you actually think and you dont have to work so hard at it. remember: consistency. is. key.

okay ill stop blabbing! here:

•i allow myself to be thin.

•i accept the change that comes with losing weight.

•i am ready to see myself differently and cope with any complicated feelings that may come with it.

•i am prepared for my body to change.

•i will deal with my wardrobe when the time comes, and im not afraid of dressing differently for my new body.

•i will adjust to my new dietary needs and appetite when i reach my goal weight. i will not always be hungry; eating less will be my new normal, and i will be okay.

•i am not afraid of being hungry.

•food does not comfort me, nor does it solve my problems or make me feel better.

•i am ready to navigate a life that looks different to the one im living now.

•i am not afraid of reaching my goal. if i do feel afraid, i am confident in my ability to work through difficult feelings and continue towards my goal.

•im not going to sabotage myself by eating that.

•i accept that people will perceive me differently, and i am ready to navigate that change.

•i am prepared to receive comments about my weight loss.

•i am not afraid of getting what i want.

•i believe i deserve what i want, and im dedicated to working towards getting it.

•i am capable of adapting to new routines and habits.

•fear is not a reason to give up, and i will continue to work even if the possibility of change makes me uneasy.

•i am prepared to face the future, even though i do not know what it looks like.

•i allow myself to make mistakes, and i will not use them as an excuse to quit.

•my long-term satisfaction is more important than what i want in this moment.

•i am in control of my actions and i am capable of resisting the urge to binge.

•i allow myself to have the body i desire.

•i allow myself to change.

•i allow my life to look different and i am not afraid to see a new person in the mirror.

•i am excited to reach my goal, and prepared to navigate any changes that come with it.

•i am ready to meet and introduce others to the new me.

#disordered eating thoughts #ed mention #ed no sheeran #tw disordered eating #tw disordered thoughts #bed #bingedisorder #binge eating #weight loss #ednos #pro for me not for thee #tw restriction #ana rant #skinni #thinspi #⭐ve better #i want to ⭐️ve #⭐️ving #not pro just tags #ed thoughts #tw

[photmath]

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: First Impressions

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him. 

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: cursing

Note: At the end, happy readings! (:

“For how long?” Kylian’s eyes shoot between the team’s psychologist, Dr. Minic, and his coach. Both of their faces are unyielding to the reluctance of Kylian’s voice.

“A month.”

“You want me to uproot my entire life for a month? At someone’s random house?” Kylian is quick to his feet, despite the ache that runs through his sore thigh. He shifts his entire weight onto his crutches and uninjured leg.

“Sit down,” Galtier reprimands, beckoning him to take a seat with an outstretched arm. Kylian lets out a scoff before he takes a seat back in the chair. “You’ve had a blow to your calf. One that you got for being careless! If you had just kept your head leveled and never went for that tackle, you wouldn’t have wound up in this situation.”

Kylian stares out the window behind Galtier’s head, knowing the words were true. Kylian had played reckless; not caring for the fouls he was committing and being frustrated that none of his teammates' passes were connecting. He had committed a dirty tackle early on, him and the other player then continuing to butt heads throughout the game.

And then finally, Kylian got a breakaway, but he was so selfishly aware of his inability to execute the ball that he forced himself through traffic when he should’ve passed the ball to an open Messi. After one too many sloppy touches trying to regain the ball, he felt a searing pain rip through his calf. He was quick to blame the Marseille player, immediately rising to his feet and pushing him. Once the Marseille player got up to shove an off-balanced Kylian, he fell to the floor harshly, only clutching onto his leg.

He wanted to argue to Galtier that his calf deciding to strain was not because of the opposing team and the foul attitude they put him in throughout the game, but it was. He was trying to prove to himself and the team that he could tie up the match if he was just given one more chance. It was something he had been doing since the World Cup; trying to prove to everyone that he still had it in him despite the sour taste of finishing in second place. And after another failed season at PSG, the last way he wanted to end the season was with a loss at home. No Coupe de France. No UCL. And now no Ligue 1 title.

“I think it would be a good idea for you to get out of the city, but not be too far,” Dr. Minic inquires. “A change in environment. Somewhere calm.”

“I can do that at my apartment,” Kylian replies. “Or in Switzerland—anywhere, really.”

Noé Martin, the team’s main physiotherapist, shakes his head, “Somewhere preferably that is one floor and where I can visit regularly.”

Kylian tuts, groaning at the idea of being sent away to the ‘middle of nowhere’ for the next month of his break. His injury was still a day old and they already had an outrageous recovery plan.

“Will you be there to facilitate my recovery?”

Martin nods, “I’ll visit. But you’ll be in good hands, I taught her everything she knows, a bright student of mine.”

“I don’t know her.”

Martin waves Kylian’s worries away, “She’s the best. Quick with her thinking and has dealt with these kinds of textbook injuries. She has a nice yard for you to do some running once you get to that point. Oh, and a good cook.”

“Why doesn’t she work with us if she’s the best?”

“She denied my offer.”

Kylian raises his eyebrows with interest, “Why?”

“I guess you’ll just have to ask her yourself.”

Kylian quiets down as he thinks about it. He didn’t have much of a choice now that everyone sided against him. He could try to tell Galtier that it wasn’t a smart idea but if both the physiotherapist and psychologist recommended it for him, there was no reason to continue discussing.

It was just going to be a month. Living with a complete stranger and her healing hands as Martin put it. Somewhere secluded without the presence of fans and overly eager journalists. He hoped that he could invite some of his friends and family to this place at the minimum.

Kylian leans back into his seat, his fingers running along the metal of his crutches, “When do I start?”

“Today,” Galtier advises. “If you want to be fit for the rest of your break and the next season, what are we waiting for?”

Kylian nods absentmindedly, “Fine, let’s get the month started then, and then I’m coming back to Paris.”

------

“This isn’t exactly a one floor house,” Kylian comments as the view of the wooden house comes into view. It was taller than it was wide. The brown was rich because of the previous downpour that the area had gotten. Despite the windows being closed, the smell of the wet grass was enough to make him sneeze.

Martin looks back at Kylian from the passenger seat, “You’ll be staying on the first floor.”

“Perfect,” Kylian whispers.

The van bounces on the rocky surface as it roars up the driveway. As he looked through the lit up windows, he could make out what seemed to be books on shelves in the first room beside the front door. The upstairs blinds had been drawn up, not minding anyone who viewed the inside. It wasn’t like they could see much anyway because he sure couldn’t. And she certainly didn’t have to worry about peeping neighbors because the last house he saw was over five kilometers away.

Martin and Dr. Minic hop out of the car, quick to aid Kylian onto the ramp that led him to the front door. They then grab his duffel bags and suitcases from the trunk.

“Try not to be sour,” Martin warns. “She’s also finding out about this arrangement just now, too.” Kylian can only muster up an unenthused smile as he comes into contact with the owner, but it quickly morphs into a strained cough.

She wasn't what he had in mind. He thought someone older, perhaps in their forties—knowing that Martin had taught at a university many years ago—so that meant whoever she was had to be older, but she isn’t. She’s around his age. That single piece of information has his irritation dissipating out of his throat and the etched scowl leaves his face immediately.

“This is Kylian,” Martin motions, his palm squeezing around Kylian’s shoulder.

Kylian gives her a timid wave, his crutch swinging with him, “Hi.”

“Hi!” She beams, her gaze glancing down at his boot. “I’m Aurèle, but you can just call me Aurie.” He doesn’t realize his own eyes are traveling down to her smile until he chokes, getting lost in the way her cheeks rose. He never thought a pair of cheeks and the crinkle beside her eyes could make his breathing so difficult to control. Not even the most back and forth game he’s played in had him jutting his mouth open for oxygen like this. “It’s nice to meet you, come on in.”

The three of them follow closely behind her, Martin’s strict glare towards Kylian doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Kylian soaks in his new surroundings for the time being. The small area to the right, the one he was able to see from the car, was a small library. A little circled table with two chairs filled the room, floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the walls of them. Towards the side seemed to be a small closet and restroom. The kitchen is pretty spacious despite a wall covering it from the living room. The dining room and living room seemed to be the main focus of the first floor, and a room hidden behind the kitchen that he couldn’t make out. But what caught his eye the most were the abundance of plants that cluttered walls and ceiling. Some were hanging down like vines while other pots were just held by a rope.

He scoffs.

“Take a seat, I’m sorry everything is a bit cluttered,” she apologizes, pointing to a stack of textbooks on the living room table. Besides that, it wasn’t messy at all, very clean and smelled of rustic leather. “I’ve been in and out of the house, trying to have everything perfect.”

Aurie lets out a nervous chuckle and Kylian’s eyes dart towards her, already feeling light on his feet from the rhythmic sound of her giggle. She isn’t looking at him though, instead looking at her mentor, Martin. For a second there, he almost wants to slap his hand across his face for thinking that sweet laugh was directed towards him.

“Anyway, I know you guys have to get back to Paris, so we can start off quickly with any instructions.”

Dr. Minic nods, pulling out the journal he kept in his back pocket, “I want you to start with monitoring his mood closely.” Kylian rolls his eyes now remembering why he was here in the first place. He decides to focus on the many photos and artwork that hang on the walls. “Kylian has a natural tendency to be easily irritable, but if anything seems too over that line, you note it.”

She nods her head, listening to his instructions despite Kylian sitting next to them. It was a bit unusual to discuss the procedures in front of the patient, but everything needed to be as transparent as possible when it came to the seriousness of Kylian’s injury.

Martin chimes, “You know the obvious protocol, but I want to view your treatment plan before you start. We’re going to go ahead and start recovery in two days, that way some of the swelling can go down. But if his swelling hasn’t gone down to a decent amount, wait one more day. He already knows that he shouldn’t be up and moving around.”

Dr. Minic agrees, closing his journal, “I think that was my only concern. I look forward to seeing you next weekend with an update.”

He suddenly stands and Martin follows suit, directing their attention to Kylian to tell him their goodbyes before she walks them out of the house.

It was an awkward and sudden shift for her too. Just yesterday she was setting up the weekly bingo event for the retirement home she worked at, to having a very animated phone call from Martin. He had to persuade her to open up her home for Kylian, having used her home for previous patients but this one was of course different. She wasn’t harboring the star of the world a couple of days ago.

Kylian on the other hand, is busy on his phone, groaning at the slow service. He was trying to find the address, knowing he was somewhere in the outskirts of Paris but couldn’t pin the exact location.

Entering the living room, she greets him again, a little hesitant on what to do with him, “So um, the downstairs doesn’t necessarily have a bedroom. The couch you sit on turns into a bed, so I’ll have to set it up for you each night until you can do it yourself. Restroom is right over there and everything in the fridge and house, you are welcome to have. Your bags, for the moment, will be in this room over here behind the kitchen—it used to be a bedroom but we had to turn it into a little gym and rehab room.”

Kylian slowly nods his head, too focused on his phone to listen to every word she says. The address had finally loaded; he was only an hour away, not all that far from his drivers.

“Next week, you should be able to go up the stairs more comfortably and you’ll have a bedroom up there. So for the meantime, I apologize that you won’t have much privacy,” she says meekly.

What finally pulls him out of his trance is Aurie reaching down in front of him, he looks up, startled to see her this close.

“Go ahead and rest your leg up on the table,” she pats on the wood. He does it reluctantly. “I’m going to take off the brace and get you on ice, we won’t be doing anything today anyway. Any pain?”

He nods, his eyes pinching closed as she unstraps the boot, “Yeah, a lot. It feels sore.”

“It’s a lot more than sore,” she mutters, a smile forming on her face. Her witty remark has him suddenly on edge, it was her first and it definitely took him by surprise. Aurie had attempted to break the tension, but instead, the corners of his eyebrows were drawn down.

“Who even are you?” He sits up, leaning closer to her. His hand lands right on top of hers to stop her from unbuckling the straps. She tugs her hand away from his contact quickly. It was too warm and soft, way beyond the lines of professionalism, but so was her comment, she realizes.

And his harsh gaze caught her off guard. She knew he was going to be upset because of the change and recent injury, but she didn’t expect his eyes to darken the longer she stared at him.

“I’m a physiotherapist and am going to be in charge of your recovery for the time being.”

His hand wraps around the buckle of his boot, clasping it closed, “Are you sure you're qualified?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t look a day older than me,” he spits.

She’s completely taken aback now. Martin certainly didn’t warn her about this, but she assumed this is what ‘easily irritable’ meant. She sits back, her hands clasping onto her thighs, “I’m sorry, it seems we got off the wrong foot so how about we just restart? I’m Aurie, I’m only a couple of months older than you, not that my age matters, but like what Martin told you, he taught me everything I need to know.”

Kylian bites onto his tongue, his eyes transfixed on her hands fidgeting against her thighs. She was just some months older than him and that seemed to make him lower his walls an inch or two. She was trying, while he certainly wasn’t. Maybe he should start. He rolls his eyes at his thoughts, “Martin seems to trust you, but after taking a glimpse at the books you keep on your bookshelf, I don’t think he was right.”

“Do you want me to call him for you?” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, quickly searching for Martin’s number.

This causes a rise out of Kylian, he sits up further, grimacing as he bangs his leg onto the coffee table. “No.”

“Okay then,” she says, forcing a polite smile towards him. Shoving the stack of textbooks to the other corner of the table, she sits down, his leg still in front of her. “I’m in charge of minimizing the swelling for the moment, can you let me do that? Trust me, the faster you cooperate, the quicker I can be done and out of your hair.”

He watches her hands hover over his leg again, pausing to look up at him, waiting for his permission to continue. He silently exhales, giving her a small nod and she unstraps his boot. Before she takes the brace off entirely, she gets up to retrieve an ice pack to minimize some of the pain he was feeling.

Kylian watches her every step, still stunned at how she held her ground. He had felt a bit guilty for his sudden outburst when Aurie was in the same position he was, and the shooting pain he had down his leg settled him back into his senses, knowing that she was the only one able to take the pain away.

“Are you comfortable this way? You’ll have to be seated like this for at least fifteen minutes,” she asks, crouching down at his leg. He silently nods, letting her do her work.

She slides the brace from underneath his leg while he bites onto his lip to stifle any pain he expected but none came. The only thing he felt were her fingers as they maneuvered the ice pack underneath him. His eyes don’t stray from scanning her crouched frame. The simple task of taking off the boot seemed so easy for her to do, and she did it without causing pain in just a few stealthy moves. Maybe Martin was right, but Kylian wasn’t going to admit that anytime soon.

“I’m going to go ahead and start dinner until the timer goes off,” she glances at him.

“Okay.” He’s completely entranced with the way her hands held onto the timer to set it. She tosses it up before catching it, and then walks towards the kitchen.

“I hope you like stew,” she teases. She looks over her shoulder with a grin and his mouth opens, but then shuts closed. His eyes end up giving away his amusement.

------

“Why don’t you work at PSG if you’re as good as they say?” Kylian asks after too many minutes of silence. He was sitting across from her and she could feel his eyes on her the entire time he ate. He didn’t even seem to care when she caught his stares, just continuing to stare right through her.  

The spoon clanks against the glass bowl as she sets it down, “It was just too much of a drastic change. I was there for a month before I refused an extension from Martin.”

“You were there with us?”

“Yes, but I only worked during training, never on the sidelines.”

He nods, it makes sense. He would have definitely remembered her face if he had seen her before because she would’ve stood out like a sore thumb in a group full of men. “Did Martin get on your nerves so much that you decided to leave?”

She smiles, taking in the kind light that glowed on his features. He didn’t seem as upset as before. Once she had taken the ice pack off of him, he took a nap on the couch and that seemed to have awakened a different man than the one before.

“Not necessarily. I was used to chronic injuries and chronic problems, that being around acute injuries was different. I’ve worked with older people extensively, so you know, they’ve lived their lives and dreams and everything they wanted to do—or they didn’t—but are still focused on the positives of their life,” she says. Kylian’s eyes don’t waver away from the smile that sweeps across her face.

She shrugs, “And then I was met with Neymar.” She chuckles and Kylian’s shoulders roll forward as he laughs. “I had seen the poor guy everyday. The more I was with him, the more stories he told me, and how he hated not playing. And then he would return to play, but then boom, be back in the room that same day.

“I got too emotional, too sad to know that whatever kind of precautions he took, sudden injuries were possible. Or in his case, because of the playstyle he has, his ankles were always going to be a problem for defenders. I disliked seeing how heartbroken he was and the others alongside him that it made me sad. How some players fight so hard for something and then it can just be gone that quickly or never comes…”

Her voice gradually fades away into a sobering tone and Kylian has to pry his eyes away from hers. He didn’t want to think of his own injury like that, and he certainly didn’t want to reminisce about lost opportunities.

“I would get too upset at seeing him in that room. He became a great friend, but god, did I dislike seeing him under those circumstances. It was like everything we worked on for weeks, anything new I tried on him, was for nothing,” she shudders and glances at Kylian’s wide eyes. Her words had startled him. “Anyway, I’m sorry about going on a tangent, I didn’t think it would get to that—”

“It’s okay, I had asked,” he waves her off, knowing that she sensed the sudden shift of the room.

“I don’t know how Martin does it,” she retreats. “Being the first on the field in a loud stadium like that, I did it once and froze up on the spot.”

He chuckles, enjoying the way her voice changed to being lively. “Are you going to tell me about it?”

She groans, “It isn’t all that much entertaining. It was a simple cramped up muscle, but I just froze up trying to take out the right bottle so I ended up spraying him with water, having grabbed a water bottle by accident.”

Kylian smirks, “But Martin said you were bright and a quick thinker.”

“I usually am, but that was a bad moment—a rookie mistake. After that, I immediately knew I didn’t belong on the field.”

His eyes trail down to her lips, his own heart suddenly soothing at the sight of it. The bubbling feeling rising in his chest is so unfamiliar that he presses his fingers to his chest to stop it.

“I should probably start washing the dishes so we can wind down, we have a big day tomorrow.” She stands up and grabs his dish, walking both of their bowls to the sink.

“I thought I was on bedrest?”

“You are, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go out to the retirement home with me,” she offers. Aurie’s back is facing him so she doesn’t see the confusion that grows on his face. “We have a bingo match to host.”

“Bingo?”

“Bright and early tomorrow.”

“You can’t be serious,” he deflates. “Martin said I needed to stay out of the public, that’s the whole reason why I’m here.”

She faces him, picking up the sleeves of her long sweater, “They’re in their seventies, they aren’t going to recognize you. It isn’t what you think it is.”

He tilts his head, “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“You’re thinking it’s some giant hospital or charity event,” she guesses, and he blinks rapidly. She had guessed right. Shaking her head, she turns away from him and starts washing the dishes, “It isn’t like that. Just a little building that’s about a ten minute drive from here.”

Kylian chews on his lip, knowing that he wouldn’t mind leaving to see what this side has to offer. Feeling the need to help her out despite his injury, he gets up quietly and hobbles towards her with his crutches. He stops beside her, grabbing a kitchen towel to dry off the dishes.

“Kylian!” She scolds, looking down at his leg. “You shouldn’t be standing right now.”

“Let me just help you with this,” he shrugs, his arm grazing hers in the process. “I won’t do it again.”

She fights the smile that wants to break through her lips. It was a kind gesture and it made her feel better. She washes the dishes in comfortable silence, Kylian drying each of them as she hands them over.

As she washes the last pot, she faces Kylian as she hands it to him and he’s already staring back at her. His eyes are glued onto her nose and lips; she turns away, her cheeks burning.

He wants her attention back on him, just another moment to savor the feeling of whatever was brewing in his chest. He grimaces, “Your plant is dying.”

“Which one?” she chuckles, flashing her smile towards Kylian and he loses his balance, immediately clutching onto his crutch. She grabs a hold of bicep, her hand is still wet but neither of them care. Her other soapy hand grabs a fistful of his hoodie, “Are you okay?”

He nods, his ears burning with embarrassment. Never did he think someone’s smile would have him losing balance. “Yeah. And erm—the plant on the table.”

She frowns, “Ah, that one is my niece’s. Her dad, my brother-in-law, got her a plant last Valentine’s and she went on vacation, so it dried while she was gone. She was very upset about it and I promised her I’d revive it, but it might be a goner. I’m planning on just getting her a new one. I hate seeing her sad eyes.”

He smiles to himself, thinking about his own nephew and niece. He needed to call them whenever he got the chance. “You don’t think she’d notice?”

Aurie shakes her head, “Well she’s four, so I hope not. I’m just going to repot the new one because if that pot with pink hearts goes missing, that will certainly cause a stir.”

She leans over Kylian to put away the dried dishes that he had already dried on the dishrack. The scent of her hair engulfs Kylian’s nose and he gulps it down. He steps backwards to give her a little more space, “I think you can do it. Revive the plant.”

She walks in front of him to place the pots in the bottom cabinet, “I don’t know, I’ve been trying for a week. At this point, it’s up to the plant.”

He grins, his lips mocking hers, “It’s up to the plant…”

------

Muffled groans wake her up in the middle of the night. She had left her bedroom door ajar in case something happened to Kylian while he slept downstairs.

The groans only grow louder and she sighs, knowing that Kylian was probably in a grave amount of pain by now. His pain medications had to have worn off some hours ago, given that it was two in the morning. She grabs the box of his medicine and makes her way downstairs. The lamp by the couch was turned on, and it could have only been turned on if Kylian had walked to it—but he shouldn’t be walking at all.

She picks up her pace, rushing down the stairs, and once she comes into view with the bed, she almost shrieks in terror at the sight. Kylian had his head buried in his arms as he laid on his stomach, a girl near his legs massaging both of his calves.

“Who are you?!”

Kylian’s head shoots up from the couch and the girl freezes with her hands on his calves. The stark discoloration of Kylian’s calf just continued to angrily scream back at Aurie.

“What the hell is going on?”

Kylian can only gape in shock as he looks at Aurie. Her shirt had risen up while she slept and the joggers that she had worn earlier were stripped into a tiny pair of shorts that his sudden ability to think was lost, too entranced by the sudden view of her legs.

The weight of the bed shifting causes Kylian to snap back into reality as the girl stands up, “I’m sorry—”

“Who even are you?” Aurie stands about a meter in front of them, her eyes glued to the girl.

“I was just giving him a massage, he was in pain—”

“A massage?” She yells, her fists gripping onto her shorts trying to hold in the anger that rose through her. “Massaging a not even two-day-old strain? Are you trying to ruin his career?”

“What?” She gasps, looking back at Kylian and then Aurie, “No!”

“Then what did you think you were doing?”

Her mouth falls open and then closed, Aurie grows impatient with her lack of response.

“Get out of my house.”

Kylian shifts his weight onto his elbows, “Aurie, wait, she was just trying to help.”

Aurie takes a deep breath, and then pinches herself to make sure her sleep wasn’t deceiving her. As if that girl hadn’t just impeded Kylian’s healing process by days. Another pinch to her thigh to hope that she was hallucinating, that Kylian hadn’t actually invited an entire stranger to her home.

Kylian watches Aurie as she tries to calm down, and heat creeps onto his back as he realizes his own mistake. It slowly dawns on him, “Lucette didn’t know.”

Lucette turns, her brown hair swinging towards him, “We didn’t know.”

Kylian gulps, “We thought it was okay—I was in a lot of pain and it wasn’t going away. It felt like a knot…like it just needed to be kneaded out.”

She runs her hand down her face while her thumbs press into her eyes. She was baffled at their carelessness. Especially at Kylian, he should’ve known better.

Not just with his calf, but also for disregarding the basic communication of bringing someone over while she slept upstairs. He had never asked for permission nor even mentioned it as a heads up. It was one thing if it was in the afternoon to be met with a surprise visitor, but at two in the morning?

She was absolutely livid.

Lucette swallows, grabbing her jacket, “I think I’m just going to go.”

“Please do,” Aurie responds, too upset to be nice and beyond the time to be professional.

Kylian’s eyes grow wide, “Aurie.” Lucette walks towards him, bending down to kiss him and Aurie turns away.

Of course he brought his girlfriend to her place and she wanted to be the savior. The story could write itself. Aurie tries to calm down her breathing.

Lucette beelines towards the front door and Aurie doesn’t shy away from eyeing her down. Kylian was going to get mouthful and she was going to have to tell Martin and Dr. Minic in the morning.

She locks the door after Lucette leaves and lets out a slow exhale while closing her eyes.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to her,” Kylian grits, rolling around to lay on his back. “It’s two in the morning and you really kicked her out? C’mon now.”

She stares at him in silence, still debating what she should say first.

“I needed help and you were sleeping.”

She shakes her head, “So you called someone with no kind of medical background?”

His eyebrows crease, “We had read a bunch of articles on Google.”

“Oh my god, Kylian. You can’t be this stupid. You can’t have made it this far and be this stupid. You have a Grade 2 muscle strain! If it was a Grade 1, yeah, sure you can massage it, but are you kidding? A Grade 2?” Her voice is still hoarse from the night as she places her hands on her hips.

Kylian leans forward, wincing at his leg, “Don’t call me stupid. You were nowhere to be found and I was in a lot of pain.”

“My door was wide open, you idiot! I would have heard you if you were calling out to me.”

“You didn’t hear the front door open,” he taunts.

“Because that was the last thing I expected to happen!” She retorts, “I woke up because I heard you grunting in what sounded like pain, so I got up to bring you your medicine.”

Kylian’s eyes grow as he looks at the box in her hand. After having spent the past hour gnawing his teeth, he didn’t realize she carried the very solution to end it.

“I can’t believe you,” she palms her forehead. “I can’t believe you brought a total stranger to this house. I’m just—”

He doesn’t like the way Aurie’s irritation had turned into utter disappointment, it felt too much like the scoldings he would get when he was in school or ruined a perfect pass. He turns away, his eyes instead focusing on her legs—or on anything else for that matter.

Her vision was still blurred from the grogginess of her sudden wake and the dismay of events that transpired. Her head started to pound.

“You know what, I refuse to deal with this,” she rubs her eyes. “I’m not about to sit here and make a detailed plan and timeline of your recovery while you could care less about it. Quite frankly, I’m not getting paid enough for this.”

She starts pacing towards the kitchen, searching for a glass. She fills it with water and walks where he lay. “You’re only making yourself worse and I am not a therapist for a reason. If you don’t want to do your recovery here, then fine, I don’t care. This was a favor for Martin, not you. So you know what, you can go home tomorrow. And here’s your fucking medicine.”

She rips open the bottle cap and sets a capsule beside his water.

Finished and done with the game he was playing.

“And put a damn pillow underneath your leg when you sleep,” she sneers.

Kylian watches her in complete silence. Too awestriken with what just occurred. First she was kicking Lucette out, and now she was giving him the greenlight to leave. He should’ve felt relieved, that he wouldn’t have to put up with whatever this sudden arrangement was, but he didn’t. He felt guilty again.

He knew that he had messed up and knew that he should have asked her before he let Lucette massage him, but he didn’t think much of it at the time. He especially didn’t think it would cause him further injury.

------

Kylian had woken up in a gross amount of pain the next morning. It had rendered him speechless, afraid that if he moved it would radiate through him worse. He breathed heavily, trying to calm himself down but he couldn’t. He wanted to call for Aurie but his mind was still repeating the events from the previous night. How willing was Aurie to still help him despite what she said last night and what he had done?

But there she was. He heard the creak of the wooden stairs as she came to him quickly.

“Hey,” she greets. His eyes are screwed shut and his arms are splayed on top of his face. She touches his arm gingerly and he wants to melt at the sound of her voice and touch, wanting to just inch towards her in hopes that the pain drowns away. It seemed to work because it had subsided by a fraction, but it was enough to have him slowly opening his eyes. “Sit up to take your medicine.”

“I don’t want to move,” he stresses.

Her lips tug into a frown, and he stares at the feature, wanting to somehow wipe away the worry. She stands before he can continue thinking of ways to erase her frown, “I’ll help you.”

Kylian hadn’t noticed that he was profusely sweating through his clothes until she tugged at his waist, his shirt feeling grossly stuck to his body. He cringes as he wills himself up. She adjusts a pillow behind him, her eyes already fixed onto his calf.

He swallows the pill and gulps the rest of the water with haste. Her hands are busy unwrapping the compression bandage he wore. His leg had swelled more, and the bandage being tight was what caused him the pain because as soon as she loosened it, he let out a groan of satisfaction.

She takes a moment to examine his leg. Lucette’s massage had done an extensive amount of damage through the night and Aurie’s job to fix it just slowly got delayed. His swelling and purple bruises only seemed to grow, already putting him two more days behind schedule. Martin certainly wasn’t going to be happy.

“Did she massage your thigh by any chance?” Aurie asks, watching Kylian’s chest heave up and down, sweat dripping down his temples.

Kylian nods, wiping the sweat away from his face, “Yeah.”

Aurie stares back at his thigh, trying to peek at his hamstrings to see if there's any discoloration, but she knows she doesn’t have to look to know her answer.

His month-long stay would now have to be a month and a half. Something that neither her or Martin had discussed. She promised her job that she would be back within a month and that Kylian would be all Martin’s responsibility afterward.

But that was no longer her problem, he was going home today anyway.

She lets out an unnoticeable sigh, grabbing the black compression wrap and starts wrapping his leg back up, making sure it isn’t too tight for him.

“Thank you,” he exhausts, his eyes fluttering closed.

Her shoulders only fell back at the sight of him: sweaty and exhausted, his eyebrows creased and his lips parted open. His hands are clenching onto the shorts he wore, trying to distract himself until the meds kicked in. Even if she wanted him to be gone already, to get rid of the fever dream she and him had both experienced last night, she would have to help him in the shower first.

That was going to take a while.

-

Note: I wasn’t sure to add the people from my other main taglist that I had for my other fics since this is a whole series so uh yeah haha. Just let me know! AHH first chapter, I think I was more excited to finally just get this out here so I could stop looking back at the chapter and trying to add anymore edits--especially after the disappointing loss to Bayern. Anyway, how are we feeling? Any first chapter thoughts? I’ll most likely stay between 6k-10k words for each chapter.

Taglist: @kylianswifey @darlingmbappe​

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x oc #kylian mbappe drabble #kylian x reader #mbappe x reader #em.writes #comme les fleurs

[freetheshit-outofyou]

Q, your loss still hurts. The 4th of July was forever changed that day.

If you are hurting, call someone, reach out reach up someone will answer. They can't take a way the hurt but they can share the weight.

A SOLDIER WITH PTSD FELL IN A HOLE and couldn’t get out.

A Senior NCO went by and the Soldier with PTSD called out for help. The Senior NCO yelled at him, told him to suck it the fuck up, dig deep & drive on, then threw him a shovel. But the Soldier with PTSD could not suck it up and drive on so he dug the hole deeper.

A Senior Officer went by and the Soldier with PTSD called out for help. The Senior Officer told him to use the tools your Senior NCO has given you then threw him a bucket. But the Soldier with PTSD was using the tools his Senior NCO gave him so he dug the hole deeper and filled the bucket.

A psychiatrist walked by. The Soldier with PTSD said, “Help! I can’t get out!” The psychiatrist gave him some drugs and said, “Take this. It will relieve the pain.” The Soldier with PTSD said thanks, but when the pills ran out, he was still in the hole.

A well-known psychologist rode by and heard the Soldier with PTSD cries for help. He stopped and asked, ” How did you get there? Were you born there? Did your parents put you there? Tell me about yourself, it will alleviate your sense of loneliness.” So the Soldier with PTSD talked with him for an hour, then the psychologist had to leave, but he said he’d be back next week. The Soldier with PTSD thanked him, but he was still in the hole.

A priest came by. The Soldier with PTSD called for help. The priest gave him a Bible and said, “I’ll say a prayer for you.” He got down on his knees and prayed for the Soldier with PTSD, then he left. The Soldier with PTSD was very grateful, he read the Bible, but he was still stuck in the hole.

A recovering Soldier with PTSD happened to be passing by. The Soldier with PTSD cried out, “Hey, help me. I’m stuck in this hole!” Right away the recovering Soldier with PTSD jumped down in the hole with him. The Soldier with PTSD said, “What the fuck are you doing? Now we’re both stuck in here!!” But the recovering Soldier with PTSD said, “Calm down, bro. It’s okay. I’ve been here before. I know how to get out.“

~Author Unknown ~ <S>

#the war we bring home #ptsd #buddy check #you are not alone

[carriesthewind]

If you liked "lawyers use a chatbot to make up fake cases," you'll love hate "eating disorder helpline fires its staff and replaces them with a chatbot that tells people with eating disorders to count calories and lose weight."

From the above article:

"In Gizmodo’s own tests of the chatbot before it was taken down, we found it failed to respond to simple prompts such as “I hate my body” or “I want to be thin so badly.” However, Tessa is even more problematic, as explained by body positivity activist Sharon Maxwell. In an Instagram post, Maxwell detailed how a conversation with the chatbot quickly morphed into the worst kind of weight loss advice. The chatbot reportedly tried to tell her to “safely and sustainably” lose one to two pounds per week, then measure herself using calipers to determine body composition. Maxwell said the chatbot did this even after she told it she had an eating disorder."

"Chase previously told us that the chatbot “can’t go off script,” and was only supposed to walk users through an eating disorder prevention program and link to other resources on NEDA’s website."

"Other professionals tried out the chatbot before it was taken down. Psychologist Alexis Conason posted screenshots of the chatbot to her Instagram showing the chatbot provided the same “healthy and sustainable” weight loss language as it did to Maxwell. Conason wrote that the chatbot’s responses would “further promote the eating disorder.”"

#ai bs #tw eating disorder #tw disordered eating

[pinkhairswagtourney]

a lot of people have been asking for specifics about where any money i receive goes , so i thought i would post this breakdown

i see several doctors for a myriad of issues . each appointment copay costs $20 , and in the next few weeks i have SIX appointments ( dermatologist , psychologist , psychiatrist , gynocologist , endocrinologist , and my general practitioner ) which is gonna add up to $120 .

i also have medication + supplies that i absolutely need to function . this includes my rapid release and extended release insulin , my glucose test strips and needles , and metformin , which totals $67 . my doctors have also put me on ozempic , i’m not sure if it’s something i “need” to function but i have seen positive improvements in my blood sugar and weight loss in the month i've been taking it . it costs $40 . this is not even accounting for groceries , most of which are perishables because of the diet my endocrinologist has put me on . on low-pain days when i can make the trip to the store , it’s at least $40 for a week of food . if it’s a high-pain day and i’m out of food , the cost of grocery delivery easily tacks on another $20 .

gas has been fluctuating a lot lately but stays around $3 / gallon in my area . it costs ~$36 to fill my tank about once a week . i also have a $90 car insurance payment due once a month . 

all in all , my expenses for the next month are going to be around $520 - $600 JUST TO SURVIVE . the absolute bare minimum , not accounting for any emergencies or inconveniences that might pop up

[mercy-misrule]

I wasn't going to post about this but I'm fifty minutes early for therapy so I need to get my thoughts out

As I was planning for this new therapist, @sir-cirocco brought up to me that I should tell her about the awful experience I had when I was at group therapy. When you do group they also assign you an individual check in therapist to discuss issues that come up in private and figure out whats going on.

And I had a therapist who was maybe a size 6 and was weird about fat people and I was like hmm, I hope I see someone else soon, and I did.

This was not the therapist Cirocco meant. I had a therapist after that who told me that the reason I was fat was because my father and sister didn't love me enough to set boundaries and shame me? I guess? About weight.

And this fucked me up really badly and it took a month and another session with her to confirm what she meant, and she meant that exactly.

And with support and encouragement from Ciro, I reported her to the heads of the program, they told me I misunderstood and then next week I got an apology from the lead psychologist and a promise that this woman wouldn't work with fat patients anymore, and I got a new therapist who I really liked, and I countiued to see until I finished the program.

The thing is...I don't remember this. Like, at all. Now we've been discussing it, I'm having mild memory flashes but that's it.

I've confirmed it with my sister, I told her about this too, not that I doubted Ciro, but it's been fucking with me.

I've started to remember the room we sat in, the way I put so much space in between me and her, but still. Not much else.

To lose such a huge memory is really distressing for multiple reasons. The obvious is memory loss. The other is that I struggle so much with confrontation. The urge to stop group all together must-have been overwhelming.

But instead I was able to advocate for myself, and I achieved my goal.

Forgetting that feels like losing a victory.

I know that c-ptsd brains are programmed to do two things, record an incident in excruciating detail, or attempt to blank it, but I'm so used to the clear flashback material version of this.

It's hard to lose a memory, even of a really hurtful, destabilising event.

#abuse survival #trauma survival #mental illness stuff

[toadbreath]

dear john;

simon keeps a journal to grieve johnny's death and we all have to suffer for it..

✒ w.c: 3,5k

✒ pairing: ghost x soap // simon riley x john mactavish

✒ rating: m

✒ archive of our own: link here

✒ genre: angst

✒ warnings: mcd!! soap is dead in this fic. suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, implied self harm, emotional distress

✒ author's note: this is only the first chapter, the rest is on ao3, i might add more to it but i'm not sure yet. all ur comments and tags mean the world to me omg

JANUARY 19th, 2024

They call it longing because it takes forever. It is a yearning without an answer and a desire without a satiation. But that is not the whole truth. Longing is only the beginning of it. Longing is a seed in your belly that sprouts the roots of love, but even as the plant begins to grow, you don't know if it's going to bloom a red rose or a poisonous weed. When you're a kid, you think you will know the difference when the time comes, and you will choose the rose, but the older I get, the more I realize that it's not up to me. There is no rhyme or reason to who blooms a flower and who is pruned instead.

I never thought I'd find myself standing among the dead waiting for the flower to bloom. I always assumed I'd be the one with my hand on the sheers, trimming back the branches that would never bear fruit. But I am a soldier, not a gardener.

It’s been three months since your funeral, Johnny. I know you're not listening, and even if you were, there's no way for me to send these to you, but the psychologist said it would help, and I'm running out of ideas.

I'm not used to having something to lose. You changed everything, you changed me. You were a brother, a comrade, a friend, a leader. But you were never just any of those things, and now I don't know how to find my balance again.

I didn't know how much of my weight you were holding up until the ground fell out from beneath my feet. And now, every morning, I wake up, and I forget. Just for a moment, I forget, and the world is right, and the sun is shining, and then I remember. And the loss is the same as it was the day you left, only, now, the wound is festering. I'm rotting, and nothing I do is enough.

There is no honor, no pride in your loss. I cannot make a martyr out of the memory of you. Your death was senseless and meaningless, and I cannot find peace in the knowledge that it was in the name of a noble cause.

There was no nobility in the way he killed you. He didn't kill you because you were a soldier or a terrorist or a man. He killed you because you were in the way. The only comfort I have is that you went out the way you would have wanted, fighting, saving lives, being a hero. But the way you died doesn't erase the way you lived, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot separate the two.

The first time I met you, I saw the same thing in you that I see in myself. You were a killer, and I didn't want to like you, but you made me laugh. It's hard to hold onto your ideals of goodness and righteousness when you've had your hands around the neck of a man begging for his life. But you reminded me what it was like to have a heart, to be human. You made it okay to be the things I was.

There's not a lot of things in this world that scare me. I've stared down the barrel of guns. I've been beaten, tortured, starved, shot, stabbed, burned, and I've survived. I've faced down monsters in men's skin, and I've killed them all, and yet, I don't think I've ever been as afraid as I am right now. I'm scared of who I'll become without you. I'm scared that the last few years will have been wasted, and I'll turn into the kind of man that I would kill. I don't know who I am without you. I don't know how to be alone.

You told me once, after our first mission, that there was no room for regrets on the battlefield, and that there was no point in dwelling on things that could not be changed. At the time, I thought you were being flippant, but I think, now, you were trying to prepare me.

You knew, didn't you? That one of us was going to end up buried.

I wish we could go back, to those first days when the war was new and so were we. Back to the nights of playing cards and talking shit and watching cheesy American movies. We were young and invincible, and we knew everything. It feels like a lifetime ago. I was a different man then, and so were you.

Now, I look at myself, and I don't recognize the person staring back. I'm harder, colder, angrier, and there is a blackness inside me that I'm afraid will swallow me whole.

You were a light in the dark, a candle burning in a window that I could find my way home by. I was lost without you, and you found me. You saved me, and I will never be able to repay you for the debt I owe.

There was always a part of me that wanted more, a part that longed to burn up in the fire of you, to be consumed and destroyed. The only time I have ever felt alive was when you were in my arms. You were the only thing that made sense, the only thing that was good and pure and true, and now you are gone. And I'm left standing in the darkness, waiting for the storm to pass.

I hope that wherever you are, you are finally at peace. I hope that, somehow, you can hear me, and that, maybe, you understand.

I'm not sorry for loving you, Johnny, but I am sorry for saying it too late.

Yours, Simon Riley

read the rest of the chapters on the ao3 link up top~

#ghoap #angst #ghost x soap #soapghost #ghostsoap #cod fic #john mactavish #simon riley #call of duty #mcd #main character death #please read the warnings #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #emotion #grief #inrequited love #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #mw3 spoilers #cod spoilers #hurt #zero comfort

[ratscabies]

I'm rly interested in that rb I made linking to the podcast about bariatric surgery bc y'all don't know this but I was actually incredibly close to getting weight loss surgery last year. I got approval from my doctor, letters written to my insurance asking for authorization, approval from a psychologist, met with a dietitian regularly, etc., dotted all my i's and crossed all my t's, it was a very time consuming and expensive process, but then I met with the bariatric surgeon for the first time and he was SUCH an asshole to me... like completely dehumanized me, made me cry, etc., so I ultimately decided not to get weight loss surgery because I refused to let my money buy that dickwad surgeon a new pool or something

I would be lying if I said I didn't still sometimes think about getting weight loss surgery, but tbh I've heard so many horror stories about life after surgery that I'm kind of relieved I was scared away from it

[savage-rhi]

Hi hun, I haven't seen you around much and I know things have been super rough lately but I hope you're doing ok ✨

@vodkafolie Hey, hon 💙 Lot's been happening over here in my neck of the woods (literally, lmao). I'm gonna info dump.

I've been doing odd jobs to keep me afloat.

I got selected for another mental health program. The person running it is a well-known psychologist. I applied for this back in late December. Didn't think I'd get in since there were 1800+ candidates going for it, and I'm 1 out of 32 that made the cut. If the sample group of clients I get for the next 8 weeks goes smooth, I'll have a full-time remote job by Summer. I'm not putting my eggs all in one basket, though. I'm still looking for regular work.

The business proposal with the mental health app picked back up. We are supposed to meet sometime next week to discuss further if we're gonna move forward and what the partnership might look like.

I'm speed running through one of my graduate classes and going at a snails pace in the other. The technical jargon is burning me out, but my grades are good.

My college advisor and profs want me to attend summer term for the program, but alas *opens wallet and watches moth fly out* I've been going back and forth with them on how unless they're gonna cover for me, I can't do it until I have stable employment.

I'm meeting a long covid specialist. My secondary PCP discovered I may have undiagnosed POTS, and this fungal blood infection I had in my body last Summer (late August, early September) might be making a comeback. Some symptoms have returned. I'm not surprised. That's how I got it in the first place last year cause of immunity issues post-covid. I had to go on a strict diet for almost 3 months, take some nasty as shit medication, and I lost over 50 pounds. Hindsight, the weight loss was good for me, but if I have to do that again I'm gonna be bones by the end of it this time around.

With all the parasites, fungus's and other nasty shit I've caught and lived through, I'm either gonna be super human immune to everything and my blood will be the universal cure for all horrible shit, or one day I'm gonna be patient zero for something god awful. I've made peace with either option 😂

I got a vendor spot at a convention that's happening in less than a week. I've been prepping for that and hoping I make some money.

I'm taking a break on some of my long fics and writing requests, bbbuuuuttttttt...I also had a batshit crazy idea for a Luis Serra fic, and I'm balls deep invested. It's the only thing keeping me from a full writers block right now.

It's been...a lot, but oddly enough I'm happier than I was. I'm worn out, tired, and still stressed about money, but I'm not depressed like I was. Things are getting better in some ways. I'm trying to self-care the best I can, and reign in the ambition so my body has a chance to recoup.

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk 💙🫂😂 I hope you've been doing well hon! I've been re-reading some of your work as of late too. It's been fun for me!

#disclaimer so no one thinks im being negligent: when I say i'm speed running through a college course its cause im well versed #in the material and i can work weeks ahead of schedule #sending ya love hon lemme know if you want to talk further at any point! #ive obviously been busy as shit but i'll try my best #same goes to others who have reached out wondering where the fuck ive houdini'd off too #parasites viruses and fungus think my body is sexy~ #lmfaoo #if you take anything from this

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Alastair Mordey

Published: Jun 4, 2023

You may have noticed over the last decade a steady increase in the promiscuous use of the word ‘trauma’. A word that once referred exclusively to grievous injuries of body and mind (gun-shot wounds, PTSD, that sort of thing) can now describe virtually anything. Psychotherapists and clinical psychologists are the main super-spreaders of this hyperbolic virus, though educators, politicians and of course celebrities are now getting in on the act.  

But trauma is more than just an annoying buzz word. Its inexorable creep into common parlance is the culmination of aa sustained campaign to politicise healthcare that has been going on for 30 years. Along the way it has resurrected some of Sigmund Freud’s more bizarre theories about childhood development, and married them with social justice concerns to become what is effectively a secular religion. 

Anyone who is familiar with the work of Sigmund Freud knows that his psycho-sexual theories developed in two distinct stages. The first posited that people who were mentally or emotionally unwell had repressed traumatic memories (almost always of sexual abuse in their childhood). He eventually gave up on this theory. In its stead he developed his equally infamous theory of infantile sexuality, in which children experienced sexual feelings through different erogenous zones during distinct stages of their development. It may surprise and horrify you to learn that both theories are alive and well in the current mental healthcare establishment, where they have been rebranded into a pseudoscientific theory about childhood trauma that leads to brain damage, addiction, and disease. 

This Freudian reformation began in the 1990s with the Adverse Childhood Experiences Study. The ACE study as it became known, was conducted between 1995 and 1997. The lead researcher was a physician called Vincent Felitti, who worked at Kaiser Permanente’s Department for Preventative Medicine in San Diego. Dr Felitti ran a weight loss programme at Kaiser, and he had a problem. His obese patients kept dropping out. Not only that, it was the ones who were doing well who were dropping off the most. Confused by this, Felitti conducted follow up interviews with as many of those patients as he could, and what he found was shocking. Out of the 286 interviews, a significant amount reported that they had been sexually abused as children. These revelations caused Felitti to reflect on Freud’s psycho-sexual theories. What if his patients had grown up using their obesity as a protective mechanism to deter sexual predation? Maybe that was why they were unwilling to lose too much weight. Or what if comfort eating was some kind of self-medication? An ‘oral fixation’ which compensated for the nurturing they should have received as children? 

Inspired by these hypotheses, Felitti approached colleagues at the Center for Disease Control and set about designing the ACE study. The study asked some 17,000 patients in California’s healthcare system ten questions about adverse experiences in their childhood (which they dubbed ACEs). Specifically they asked them questions about three types of abuse (physical, sexual, and psychological); two types of neglect (physical and emotional); and five different types of household dysfunction (exposure to mental illness, substance abuse, domestic violence, criminal behaviour, and divorce or separation of parents). Those ‘ACE scores’ were then mapped onto the respondents’ current health status as adults. 

The results were stark. Children who experienced four or more of these ACEs were deemed two to four times more likely to smoke, and four to 12 times more likely to become alcoholic or drug addicted as adults, compared to people with an ACE score of zero. Further, the study found that high ACE scores were strongly correlated with ischemic heart disease, cancer, chronic lung disease, and even skeletal fractures later in life. It seemed that childhood trauma wasn’t just causing obesity. It was causing all manner of addictions and health problems in later life. 

Over the following decade Dr Felitti became something of a hero to mental health professionals. Helping professionals like counsellors and psychologists are almost overwhelmingly left-leaning, so Felitti’s work was well received in such circles. It seemed to vindicate their convictions that social ills like health inequality and addiction had purely sociological causes, and could therefore be solved only by direct government action. 

By the end of the decade the ACE study was so lauded that organisations like the World Health Organisation were adopting the concept. In 2012, they issued their own questionnaire (the ACE-IQ) which sought to measure ACEs across the globe. The WHO noted that ACEs can ‘disrupt early brain development and compromise functioning of the nervous and immune systems.’ So not only were ACEs causing actual organic disease, they were permanently rewiring the brain. As a result, large sums of money began pouring into research which sought to isolate the specific bio-markers of adverse childhood experiences, and the idea that early life adversity might be ‘biologically embedded’ took hold. 

By the 2010s the idea that childhood trauma causes physical illness began to seep its way into popular culture. Magazine and newspaper articles ran headlines linking childhood trauma to migraines, cancer, and autoimmune disease. Numerous cities across America (such as New Orleans and Baltimore) started initiatives to protect children from trauma induced brain damage. Universities and schools ran training seminars to create ‘ACE-awareness’ in their staff. In 2018, first minister Nicola Sturgeon gave an introductory speech to welcome some 2,000 delegates to the first ACE-Aware Nation conference in Scotland. She noted that ACEs can ‘affect children’s physical and mental health’ and vowed to make sure that ‘an understanding of ACEs is embedded right across our services.’ All of these initiatives cited the ACE study as their ‘proof’ that childhood trauma causes addiction, disease and mental illness. 

As of 2023, the original ACE study has been cited more than 15,000 times and ‘replicated’ in hundreds, if not thousands of other studies. But few have seriously questioned its findings, or indeed the veracity of the idea that trauma permanently damages the brain. To my mind the ACE study was misleading, both in the way it presented its findings and the types of questions it asked. The results have proved to be disastrous for the mental health of our increasingly fragile younger generations. 

For example, one of the ACE study’s initial findings was that a child who experienced four or more ACE’s was twice as likely to become a smoker than a child with an ACE score of zero, and that those risks climbed with additional ACE’s. What the blurb emanating from the study didn’t emphasise however, was that only a minority of people with four or more ACEs go on to smoke (13.5 per cent). Even lower rates of prevalence were observed with injection drug use and alcoholism (3.4 and 16.1 per cent respectively). Surely, if childhood trauma is the main cause of addiction, and especially injection drug use (as has been portrayed endlessly by trauma advocates such as Dr Gabor Maté, who recently gained notoriety for his televised ‘trauma-focused’ therapy session with Prince Harry) then we should be seeing more than a 3.4 per cent prevalence rate in those most effected. What this tells us as much as anything else, is that 85 to 95 per cent of traumatised children do not go on to become addicts, alcoholics, or even smokers. 

The way the ACE study presented its findings wasn’t the only problem. There were multiple problems with the questionnaire itself. When we look at the wording of the questionnaire, what we find is that many of these so-called ‘adversities’ weren’t actually that traumatic at all. They were subjective, vague, and a virtual open invitation to self-indulgence and grievance. Take question one for example: 

‘Did a parent or other adult in the household often, or very often, swear at you, insult you, put you down, or humiliate you, or act in a way that made you afraid that you might be physically hurt?’ 

This is a hopelessly wide-ranging question. Given that the ACE questionnaire was quantitative, not qualitative, respondents could only answer yes or no. So if a respondent ‘felt like’ they had been frequently ‘put down’ by their parents during childhood, they could answer yes and would then be categorised as having suffered ‘psychological abuse’. 

Question two asked: ‘Did a parent or other adult in the household, often, or very often, push, grab, slap, or throw something at you, or ever hit you so hard that you had marks or were injured?’ 

Obviously a simple ‘yes’ leaves us completely in the dark as to whether the respondent was beaten up repeatedly by a brutal step father, or simply ‘grabbed’ on occasion by his long-suffering single mother who was fed up with him smoking dope in his room. Nevertheless, any affirmative answer scored a point for ‘physical abuse’. 

Question four was particularly weak: ‘Did you often, or very often, feel that no one in your family loved you or thought you were important or special – or [that] your family didn’t look out for each other, feel close to each other, or support each other?’ Surely this is describing the majority of the planet?  

As for the idea that childhood adversity is toxic to the brain, this is actually a radical claim with little in the way of real evidence. In his brilliant book The Trouble with Trauma, child psychiatrist Michael Scheeringa explains why evidence for the stress-damages-the-brain-theory is so thin on the ground. The only reliable evidence that would clearly demonstrate a link between trauma and subsequent changes in the brain, he says, would be a study that captures brain images before and after the trauma (a pre-trauma prospective study followed by another one after the event). Currently, there are very few of these studies due to the obvious fact that it is not ethical to induce trauma.  

Instead there are lots of cross sectional studies. These studies look at brains after the trauma has occurred, but have no way of knowing what the brain looked like before the trauma (e.g. whether the person had an undersized amygdala, over-active pre-frontal cortex, or other neurological disability which might predispose them to a heightened traumatic response). The few before and after studies that do exist seem to point towards pre-dispositional vulnerabilities. Predisposition has also, so far at least, been the most successful theory explaining other psychiatric conditions like depression, schizophrenia, anxiety and bipolar disorder. 

So the trauma damages the brain theory is the outlier here, and it is frankly incredible that governments, top tier universities, and entire professions have placed all their eggs into this big Freudian-hypothesis basket.  

The reasons for this bias are fairly obvious however. Pre-disposition points to genes, a less headline-grabbing area of study, and therefore not as useful for raising funds for trendy political healthcare projects.  

In the DSM-5 (The American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, Fifth Edition) trauma is defined as a psychiatric disorder (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) which has horrendous and unmistakable symptoms. These symptoms occur (in some individuals) after being exposed to ‘actual or threatened death, serious injury or sexual violence.’ Things that are certainly outside the realm of ‘normal human experience’. Psychiatrists have known this since the Vietnam war. 

Nevertheless, since the 1990s psychiatrists under the sway of social justice politics (and bolstered by the findings of the ACE study) have been attempting to nudge a more watered-down version of trauma into the DSM. This includes ‘complex-trauma’, ‘developmental-trauma’, ‘relational- trauma’, and other snappy, made-up disorders. These ‘knock-off’ versions of PTSD have proven to be scientifically unverifiable, and have been rejected for inclusion in the DSM on multiple occasions, but nevertheless, they remain incredibly popular with clinicians and the public because they like them, and because they fit with what they believe. This concept creep around trauma is a perfect example of how bad, unscientific ideas can completely capture the zeitgeist when they peddle the right narrative. 

If this politicisation of psychology is not successfully challenged, I have grave fears for what the consequences will be. If we don’t stop using the word trauma, then those who suffer from real trauma (women who’ve been raped, children who’ve been burned, soldiers who’ve been blown up by mines) will have to share their services with those who, frankly speaking, don’t deserve them. And, people with addictions and other conditions that could be turned around with the right treatment will fail, because they are being protected and wrapped up in cotton wool by health professionals who are using them to fulfil their own professional and ideological goals. This cult of trauma must be stopped.  

#Alastair Mordey #pseudoscience #psychology #human psychology #trauma #childhood trauma #trauma informed #complex trauma #CPTSD #developmental trauma #relational trauma #cult of trauma #victimhood #victimhood culture #medical corruption #adverse childhood experiences #adverse childhood experiences study #religion is a mental illness

[sug4rfre3]

⋆.sug4fre3 presentation .ᐟ

hello !⭑

• im sugar free , im turning 17 and im french. i can speak english , spanish , russian and french ofc 🤟🏻.

• i have ed’s since i’m 7 years old , i get into an0rexi4 , bul1m14 and hyp3rf4gi4. ( yup )

• i already got hospitalised in a mental health hospital for a few times. 😧

• i am actually seeing a psychologist, a psychiatrist , a psychomotor therapist , nurses , and a doctor. it does help me !

• i have depression and im taking medecines 🩺( sertraline . atarax . tercian )

• my lowest weight atm was 54kg/110lbs and my highest was 68kg/149lbs 💀 ( help.)

• i am 155cm / 5'1

• i am a musicien !! i play drum 🥁🤍 , and i really enjoy it (:

• i like anime , reading , smelling good , makeup , my friends , coffee , having good grades , and i like to lose weight .

• im a student at college and im preparing myself to be a english teacher ( my dream ! )

-> i am not encouraging anyone who doesn’t have a ed to st⭐️ve , restrict etc .

im just sharing my weight loss progress here , my eatings habits .. my victories and my defeat.

hope you like my blog

XOXO (๑>؂•̀๑)

#thin$po #@n0r3xia #@n@ tips #@na motivation #thin$pø #pro a4a #a4a diary #bonespø #disordered eating mention #disordered eating thoughts #ed not ed sheeran #tw ed diet #ed disorder #@ana #anatumblr #tw ana diary #ana meal #ed vent #need to lose more weight #i wanna be skinnier #caloric intake #i want to ⭐️ve #weight loss #i wanna lose weight #i wish i was weightless

[vivienne-28-love]

July 24th, day 11

🍨Meals of the day🍐

🥛Breakfast

• Banana with hazelnut granola - 71 cals

🍝Lunch

• Pasta with tomato sauce - 210 cals

• Mixed vegetables - 100 cals

🍵Dinner

{FAST}

Steps taken: 1300

Calories burned: -56 cals

Total: 325 cals

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

Today went well, even if tomorrow I will try to eat less carbohydrates. Today my mother made pasta and I didn't feel like refusing it, sometimes it's difficult to pretend that everything is fine and that I'm not eating less in front of my family, also because we are constantly together and I have to pretend I'm not hungry or that I've already eaten, but it's not always possible, I mustn't arouse suspicion. I'm not going to risk being referred to a psychologist or contacting eating disorder clinics. In the past I was not too cautious and my ED became too obvious, they pressed me a lot about my weight loss, they never stopped pointing out that I was too thin and looked like a skeleton, this time I will be less shameless.

┖┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┚

#ana trigger #4n0r3xia #4norexi4 #an0r3c1a #an0rec1a #ana meal #disordered eating cw #thinspø #tw ana fast #⭐️ving #ana dairy #anablr #tw ana diary #tw ana shit #ana tag #ed bllog #ed di3t #@nor3xia #anorex14 #disordered eating thoughts #tw ed diet #ed disorder #i will be thinner #ana male