grungevegan:

"Hello. Right. I wanna say something that I thought I’d never actually talk about. Before we wrote ‘Sempiternal’, I was a fucking drug addict. I was addicted to a drug called ketamine. I was on it for years, and I was fucked off my head. And um. My band wanted to kill me. My parents wanted to kill me. My fucking brother wanted to kill me. Everybody didn’t want to take me too well. But they didn’t. They stood by me, supported me through all that shit. And we wrote sempiternal because of it. And no one fucking knows, no one fucking knows this but I went to rehab for a month. And through that time, as well as my fucking band and my family, you guys were sending me… You had no fucking idea that I was in rehab but you were sending me letters, you were sending me texts, you were sending me fucking emails. And when I got out of rehab, I didn’t want to scream anymore. I wanted to sing it from the fucking rooftops. And it’s all thanks to you. So thank you very much." -Oliver Sykes APMA’s Speech

grungevegan:

"Hello. Right. I wanna say something that I thought I’d never actually talk about. Before we wrote ‘Sempiternal’, I was a fucking drug addict. I was addicted to a drug called ketamine. I was on it for years, and I was fucked off my head. And um. My band wanted to kill me. My parents wanted to kill me. My fucking brother wanted to kill me. Everybody didn’t want to take me too well. But they didn’t. They stood by me, supported me through all that shit. And we wrote sempiternal because of it. And no one fucking knows, no one fucking knows this but I went to rehab for a month. And through that time, as well as my fucking band and my family, you guys were sending me… You had no fucking idea that I was in rehab but you were sending me letters, you were sending me texts, you were sending me fucking emails. And when I got out of rehab, I didn’t want to scream anymore. I wanted to sing it from the fucking rooftops. And it’s all thanks to you. So thank you very much." -Oliver Sykes APMA’s Speech

(via gettingbeautifulforlife)

sarahdonelly:

So here are some horrible selfies of me wearing the only thing I feel even remotely comfortable in right now (because it shoves my body shape just a few inches closer to the way it was only a few months ago) - and I don’t think anything’s chased me as quickly in the opposite direction to continuing recovery as seeing the best possible photo of me right now, well, being that fat. Yes, yes, ‘recovery weight,’ whatever. Here’s the deal; it’s not just recovery weight, it’s recovery weight in addition to bloating and all the grossness from the latest round of binge/purging because I’ve relapsed rather spectacularly and taken a sideways dive into bulimia, and that wasn’t the plan at all. Maybe tight-lacing and fasting will interrupt the cycle.

I feel horrible, I look just as bad, and I’m going to make that my profile so I can see just how I’ve let myself get until I’ve lost enough to actually get a decent photo. I don’t know. Maybe it’s good to try and get over the terror of letting people see (kinda) how I look. Maybe it’s a terrible idea and I’m going to regret this later. 

Which is fine. I deserve it. I must have gained… Okay, don’t want to think about it. I can barely make out the ribs on my chest. I don’t have anyone around me at home for the next three or so days, so I’m just gonna go on a water fast while there’s no need for excuses. Sorry to be so disgusting and such a party-pooper, but Hell. Maybe some public humiliation will get me into gear.

Christ, look at my flabby arms.