Tuesday, Apr. 29, 2003/11:07 pm

smoke

Useful words float infront of me, advice and your kind, kind love. I can see, i can hear every sylable but i am unable to take it in. Trying to inhale, trying to accept whats offered. Smoke fills my throat, my lungs, my veins, windpipe, lodging every entrance. Lost in a blanket of suffocation. I cannot be reached.

Blue riddled, frozen lips, ruptured in dry sweeps. I speak the only words i can offer at the moment. I'm.So.Sorry.I'm.So.So.Sorry. Worry lines cover your forehead. I am sorry once more.

Sweet misery looms in the air.

Light a flame but it dims into negative.

Fire eventually blotted out by the wind.

Swallowing down the fury. Swallowing down the hatred. Swallowing down the fear.

Attempting to go back in time. Start from the beginning. It's all so hard to pin point, like staring into a faded photograph to find out what the figures are feeling.

Playground thoughts. Pink and frills, ring a ring a roses. Then memories of misplacement. Me, left on the slide while the rest moved onto the climbing frame. Then the monkey bars, which i rarely attempted. My hands were too slippery for them. I always ended up falling into chipboard.

I still can't get the fact that i made myself sick when i was 8 or 9 years old out of my head.

8 or 9.

whywhywhy.

What makes a child want to do that?

I was always missing something, something that lets everything click into place. That binds it all together, in working order. A part to make me complete.

It upsets me that i cannot remember a time i didn't think i needed to lose weight.

I'm 83 now, haven't gone down that much lately. I'll tell you when i get to 80. I grew half an inch though. Making a small difference to my BMI which is around 14.5 at the moment.

I am so obsessed with numbers. So obsessed with weight. Returning back to my thinspiration folders and diaries, some which were started in the year 2000. I pack them away in humiliation when i'm gaining but when i'm losing i write once more. Sticking and pasting model pictures, stick thin beauty.

Every night i wonder whether my heart will carry on beating till morning. Stabbing flickers come and go, sometimes jolting me in shock. I've been awoken by chest pains, and shortness of breath. Pulling myself out of bed, reaching for my insulin and taking a shot to try and help me calm down. Cramps regularly interupt my sleep, they can be so painful. Clearly defined bone will stick out from my calves, it can be quite disgusting.

It's official, i'm not going back to school. I may have to get a doctors certificate but work is being sent home, revison notes and such, i am so relieved. Of corse i have to go back for my exams and i'll probably persuade myself to make an effort for the last day. Just to say goodbye to some of the people that i once knew. The people who never really knew me. I won't miss it, most of my minutes were spent wishing i could just disappear. I knew that if i'd carried on through the last two weeks, i wouldn't have made it. It's all too pressuring, too much for me to handle anymore. I bailed, i took the option to get out when i could. The ground at school has become too unsteady for me to walk apon.

And yes i'm lonely.

So very lonely.

I want to rip myself apart and find someone new underneath.

But i have my razor,

my cold blades,

food&more food.

I can sit and wallow here. In my own filthy presence. Duvet pulled up to my chin.

My friends shouldn't have to see me, especially not when i'm like this. I would just dampen the mood, chase high spirits away.

Unable to even force a smile. I push myself to and it just looks wrong. I can't withstand it for long anymore. The paint in my pallet has run dry. Each colour matted and coarse. The brush remains clean. Each bristle unspoiled. My cover up has faded and cannot be replaced. Left with the bare truth, the bare, ugly truth. Shame i'm still telling so many lies.

I long to get up.

Have enough energy to stand up,

and run,

as fast as i can.

faster&faster&faster

To the point where i can't sight any of this.

A blot on the horizon.

Erased by a fresh moon.

I will have to keep dreaming, because it's all i can do.

Left with such pathetic remains of motivation.

I open my eyes and i am still here.

Still. Silent. Shattered.

Slowly. Dying.