Eating disorders, self-harm, depression, and mental diseases are not romantic, nor something to be glorified.
They are not skipping one meal, or a dainty girl with a finger down her throat.
They are not your significant other kissing the fresh cuts on your body.
They are long sleeping hours, loud music, and never speaking.
They are not causal therapy trips, whisper to calm the voices, or often changing your mind.

They are rotted teeth, corroded stomachs, and scabbed knuckles.
They are stinging showers and half-assed excuses for long sleeves in the summer.
They are not even having the motivation to sit up.
They are refilled pill  bottles, screaming to the voices inside so much your throat bleeds, and seeming like a maniac, only to be all smiles in the blink of an eye.

Glorifying this is bullshit. If you’re going to glorify this, then glorify the part where you get better.

Glorify the part where you can eat a full meal without feeling sick, or having regrets.
Glorify the part where razors can only be for shaving, and you don’t care to explain your scars.
Glorify the part where don’t force yourself to get up, and you genuinely grin.
Glorify the part where you throw away that last bottle, can ignore the screams within, and can handle your moods.

Don’t glorify the things that make people want to leave. Don’t glorify the things that make us look bad. Don’t glorify who we were.
Glorify the things that’ll make them stay. Glorify the things that show we’re trying. Glorify who we have become.

Glorify recovery.