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Food in Her Belly

Avery Nolan: a complicated person attempting to lead a simple life.

Hello, I'm Avery, and you? www.foodinherbelly.tumblr.com/ask

Words are just like food in my belly. I gobble them up. I run: faberrybrittanafics.tumblr.com/

(via sarahthevampyrslyr)

(via powerlesbian)

(via jawnwatsons)

johannagayson:

Avery and I make a great team

I ship us pretty hard ngl

seriously, who doesn’t ship the best lesbian couple ever?

avon for lyfe yo

I feel better.

Thank you, more please.

johannagayson Asks:

I love you.

foodinherbelly Said:

I love you most. Thanks for taking the time and writing in my box. You know how much it makes me smile.

Older Folks Meditation Group is across the hall. It’s very entertaining hearing about their broken hips and how they are on liquid diets. Goodness, it sounds like fun being an elderly person.

Im waiting to go into therapy today wanting to cry. These are the things i will rant about:

I hate that it is six oclock and I’m not home. I hate that I work a full time, exhausting job and go to school part time and still haven’t amounted to nothing. I could be graduating with my bachelors in may but yet I am still sitting here not reaching my potential. I have not lived up to the hopes that I have for myself, I have not traveled anywhere that doesn’t have a mouse, and I am so lonely right now that it hurts. I feel as if I am not good enough for anything, not pretty enough or attractive enough, I feel exhausted and like I could tip over at any moment. I feel like I keep going and going but there is barely any rest. I feel so imbalanced. I spend my car rides regretting I ever made a site for or even shared the hunger games. I miss when I didn’t have panic attacks when I was in a social situation. I used to be so outgoing. I wish I had a mother, one that actually took care of her child and didn’t live her alone at the age of four for a week by herself. I wish I had a supportive family and someone to guide me because fucking hell it is so hard walking forward in the darkness blind. I wish I wasn’t forty years more mature than those my age and I could kick back and have fun. I wish my panic attacks never came back. I wish I had people around me who truly understood me and had the patience I need. I wish I could go into a room and turn my music up obnoxiously loud. I wish I could cry. I feel as if I might throw up. I wish my feet didn’t hurt so fucking bad with this new job or that my body is so worn out.

I hate that I still feel like I have to carry the world on my shoulders.