Saturday, Mar. 15, 2003/11:53 pm

wreckage

Chaotic.

Hectic.

Tears ruining the affect of a false smile.

I've walked too far/been to far/seen to far/

Yet if you try to block my sight i'll break through the seal of your fingers.

I'm having such mood swings, never knowing where my next swirl of thoughts will lead me.

I was looking foward to having this weekend to calm down a little, after the stress of school and the Art exam. I got through it but only just about, relieved to be able to wash the colours away. It hasn't turned out that way though, i'm pent up with emotions racing through my blood like bullets.

Went shopping this morning, laced with the familiar tone of revoltion and embarrasment. Resenting the uncomfortable drag of my feet against the floor. wishing i was lighter, so my steps wouldn't even be heard. I didn't touch any food until i got home, when i found everyone was out, perfect, i needed to unwind. I loaded up on pasta, toast, biscuits, crisps, anything that i could find. After purging i sank down into the warm water of a full bath. After twenty minutes or so, i started to hear people downstairs, then shouting, arguing, my Mum and brother. She stomps upstairs and asks me what i've eaten, i lie, say i've just had lunch. Promise thats all i've had. When i later surface from the bathroom i am confronted in the kitchen. They count the packets of crisps and lay them out on the counter infront of me, 7 packets out of 20, apparently nobody else has had any. They ask me where they have gone, joke that the 'faires must have got to them.' I continue with the sentence that i have had none, trying to keep the plastic from melting as i start to shake and panic. I don't know how else to react. My Mum calls me 'a disgusting pig.' Attacks the wreck of the way i live, the mess that seeps over my carpet. My brother tells me my appearance is awful, too thin, 'i bet you think you look good or something, but you don't' I am asked what i weigh. I reply i'll never tell them, the question is repeated again, as if i'm suddenly going to react but i scream over and over 'I'll never tell you, never, never!' One last comment destroys me and i cannot take it anymore, i run from the scene, sobbing loudly through strangled breath.

A while later soft taps are made at my door. I straighten myself up and wipe the mascara from my cheeks, let them come in. It was Kayleigh (brothers girlfriend) Somehow i knew it was going to be her. She sits with me and gives me a hug, i hug her back and then said thankyou because it was so unexpected. She talks and asked me subtle questions, i give vague answers. She is offering a helping hand. 'What i think is that you think you can't stop, you've started now and you can't stop' I knew how true that was but couldn't admit it, my throat felt like it was going to close up, scared i would let something out. She says she'll help me tidy up, to stop Mum from having another go at me about it. I half-heartedly agreed and we begin to stack up scraps of paper and fill binbags with rubbish. I pray that she wouldn't look in my drawers or underneath my bed where plates and wrappers are hidden, stashed away out of view. Standing in a minefield. Thankfuly she doesn't go near them, just proceeds to hoover and dust away cobwebs. By this point reluctency had started to voice inside my head. I could literally hear the words, sequencing over and over. Saying 'i don't want this.'

When i am once again alone, i try to block it out. It's screaming at me though, i don't feel i can move forwards. Guilty, hating myself for ignoring sanity. A fight of thoughts ruins any echo of hope aiming for me. 'WHY can't you just help yourself! Get up, get up now. TRY a bit more atleast' I can't though, i know i can't, i'm not ready, it's just not right. I feel so selfish, callous, self centered, such a waste, undeserving of kindness or anyones time. Weak and pathetic. I attempt to fight it but it's useless, i plan how to get round dinner. I want to die.

When my mum notices my room she says 'see, you feel better now' All i knew is that no, i didn't. I need to clean away my whole character not windowsills and dirt clad surfaces. After eating a square meal, including vegetables, bread, i announce i am going out soon after to get some fresh air. I am able to escape, relieved to get away from everyone, i find myself making my way to the supermarket to use their toilet, i also take money, fully knowing what i will spend it on. I easily empty away the sickness resting in my stomach then move onto buying. I load my arms up with chocolate and bags of doghnuts on sale for 10p because the store is near closing time. Afterwards i walk back in the dark, resisting the deep temptation not to return home. Ashamed of everything i am. Seeing the events that are about to unfold. The scrambling of hungry hands ripping open packets, gulps of glutton with added water. Then the hangover, sacraficing myself to bulimia, vowing to take the ritual punishment. Facing familiar teritory, wishing i wasn't there.

Always under the same black light.

I can't see sence. the strange thing is i know that but still feel unable change anything.

When am i ever going to be ready to find a way out of here?

Will i ever?

I don't know.

No one can get through to me.

I want to shake myself for being so caught up in this. I need to be woken up.

Until then nothing changes.

I continue to

f

a

l

l

Plumeting downwards, suspended only by the force of air.

No ending visible from here.