fibromyalgiaproblems:

Being chronically ill means constantly having this crippling fear of not being able to comfortably believe your illness is as bad as it is, and fearing everyone will be proving to you that you don’t have that illness or that you’re exaggerating it. 
It’s constantly fearing judgement from doctors, family, friends, even other sick people, and worst of all, yourself. 

Maybe it’s not logical, and certainly not healthy, but it’s hard to avoid.

(Source: chronicillnessproblems, via sickgirlswag)

sickgirlswag:

You know you’re chronically ill when the rest of your family is ‘normal people sick’ with a cough or the flu and you’re hiding out in your room praying to every god that’s ever existed that you don’t catch it. But you know you will. Your immune system is just lovely like that.

sickgirlswag:

Dear doctors
Just because you can’t explain what we feel or the symptoms were having, doesn’t mean they’re psychological.
Yours sincerely, every chronically ill teenager xoxox

sinkingshits:

flaresof-fibro:

dear spoonie,

already today you have accomplished so much,

don’t doubt it, even when you are stuck in bed and the rest of the world cannot see the pain you’re in

xo

thank you

(via sickgirlswag)

Get excited about the little things. About wearing a new outfit for the first time. About Sunday brunches with your best friends. About the new cute guy in your class. About finding an extra dollar in your pocket. About anything that even remotely makes you happy because as you grow up, passions fade and enthusiasm gets mistaken for foolishness. So don’t let the grey world stop you from shining.

-note to self (via vanillapagesandink)

(Source: c0ntemplations, via sickgirlswag)

Reblog if it’s okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.

(Source: prisonofsociety, via sickgirlswag)

Stop living in other people’s worlds.
You can’t be bothered to shave your legs, but you do it anyway because you want to wear a skirt tonight? You’re living for somebody else. You’re living for the girls that ask you if you don’t care about your appearance and the boys that tell you that nobody will fuck you if your legs are hairy.
The only people who think those things are the ones that you don’t need in your life.
The only reason that you stand in the shower on a friday evening, legs spread, shaving cream all over your arms, razor poised and ready for action, is out of the fear that same asshole will question why your priorities are not the same as theirs.

Stop living in other people’s worlds.
You want to smoke forty cigarettes a day, but you give it up for lent anyway? Why?
Does it make you happy to wake up, go to work, get berated by your boss, then force yourself to chew an overpriced piece of nicotine gum that tastes like your grandma’s ashes?
Or are you doing it so that the girl in the office who eats strawberries for lunch and feels so invigorated after her yoga sessions with her instructor ‘Serenity’ will tell you how proud she is that your making the right choice? That it means you’re adding five years to your life?

Stop living in other people’s worlds.
So you fucking love carbohydrates, but all of your best friends are on the goji berry diet? So you’re going to throw away all of the junk food in your cupboards, buy a blender, and go to the pretentious deli in that weird part of town to buy twelve different fruits that you’ve never heard of, and some bread made out of organic, free range, no fat, low GI, zero calorie, save the whale whole grain. Why? So you can hate every meal but feel like you’re a successful member of society because seven people liked the instagram picture you posted of your egg white and red pepper omelette?

Stop living in other people’s worlds.
Every single fucking time that you change your mind about a choice that you would make as yourself, you are choosing to change who you are based on the perception that a stranger, a co-worker or a friend might have of you. Why? Will they go home and tell their family how proud they are that you quit smoking? Will they text their boyfriend and let them know how well you’re doing with your diet? Or will they politely smile and continue to think that you’re a slightly chubby smoker who can’t quite get the hang of liquid eyeliner?

Other people live in their own worlds. Every single person you have ever met, no matter how close you are to them, is living in their own unique, selfish world, and the second that you realise that and start doing the same, instead of changing your own little world to fit in with theirs, is the second that you truly start living. The most that you can expect from existing solely for the acceptance of others is to have every single person that you know express an interest in the 10% of your personality that you have catered to their interests. Do you want that? Really? Because your other option is to fuck everybody else’s opinion and live entirely for yourself.
Piss people off with your cigarette smoke. Make people jealous when you eat chocolate cake for lunch. Refuse to care. Because in your world, your priorities are not the same as anybody else’s, and you should never compromise them. No matter what.

Stop living in other people’s worlds.


-'Stop living in other people's worlds' (via lomticks-of-toast)

(via sickgirlswag)

sass-ily-recovering:

a friend who puts you down or doesn’t let you feel comfortable being yourself is not your friend

sickgirlswag:

Chronically ill talent- watching a season of a TV show in one day

The world is most beautiful at 4 AM because people are asleep and nature is wide awake.

-(via siberius)

(Source: hazelhirao, via sickgirlswag)

Female Bodies: A Weighty Issue

fozmeadows:

Hypothesis:

We have, as a society, such a completely disordered, distorted perception of female bodies that the vast majority of people are incapable of recognising what “overweight” actually looks like on a woman, let alone “healthy”. As such, we’re now at a point where women are not only…

(Source: fozmeadows.wordpress.com)

cfsfmmcsandrelatedstudies said: Thanks for the follow. Followed back from this main blog. Could spend hours on your blog.

I replied:

You’re welcome and Thank Youuu! xx

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