Tuesday, May. 13, 2003/10:36 pm

shadowed

Turn the light down to shade.

Draw the curtains to blot out the outside.

Swallowed in my comfort blanket, wrapped tight with my secrets and lies.

Unable to cry, unable feel anything but the tight grasp of darkness round my throat.

I was feeling stable, now i just feel numb.

I can't be bothered to move.

Fade the ambience. Let my head hang in shame.

Somethings hit me hard, i don't know what, maybe an arrow, maybe a bullet, or maybe just the thump of my own thoughts.

Killing myself in a torture ring, taunting, shouting, screaming, hating.

I want to slit my wrists and pour blood over the floor. I haven't cut in so long, there are no new marks on my arms but now...i just need to be woken up. Theres a razor blade, my brothers razor, the one with the three sharp blades, sitting on the bathroom shelf under the toothpastes, No one would notice it gone for a while, afterwards i could just clean it away and place it back in it's rightful place. I've done it before. I am drawn to the idea, but i really hope i can fight this tonight. I can't do it, i need to try resisting, i can't be slashed up for the prom. what about your thighs then? no, no, no.

I wish everything would just leave me alone.

I have started a new compulsion. A terrible rush of palms snatching products that aren't mine to own. It's so out of character for me. So out of the blue. I don't know why, how it happened but it did.

Yesterday and today i shoplifted.

After spending the majority of my money on binge food Monday morning. I felt ashamed and guilty, disgusting from the core. I had high sugar levels and was desperate for a drink but didn't even have 32p for one. I walked into a small newsgents, picked up a can of 7up light. Moved round to the magazines and pretended to be looking at them. Then discretly slipped the can into my bag. Checked i wasn't being watched and fled. Easy.

Once i'd started i couldn't stop. It's like binging, so similiar, the hectic flow that runs through me. Wanting more and more. Out of control and yearning for some hold to make me stop.

By the end of the day i had taken the 7up, a tube of citrus polos, a twirl chocolate bar, milkybar, appletize, can of diet coke, bottle of diet coke, jelly lollies from the disney store, a ribena carton. Then the expensive items; two cd's, two books and over �30 in designer makeup.

I have no idea what came over me. I didn't care about anything else, even what i was getting. I just carried on, my concience fazed out. It served as compensation for the amount of my own money i'd wasted on eating. A relief that i'd come back from shopping with more than just puke in my hair.

Then today, I started up again. Food from random supermarkets, a body lotion i already have, and a deoderant i could survive perfectly well without. I head for any shop, it doesn't matter, service stations, chain stores, it makes no difference. The worry of being caught wouldn't even keep me away. I've only ever sneaked items from the store cupboard at work before. In my eyes this is set in a completly different league.

I feel so terrible, evil even, a horrible person. Searching for the reason as to why i did it. I became so out of it, just cruising through the whole experience.

I'm scared about tommorrow, or the next day. When my mind wanders again. When i can't halt myself. When i need to b/p but am broke for cash.

I hate myself more than i could describe, you should too.

I should be revising. My first GCSE exam is next Wednesday, a week away. English literature, i don't even have any notes in my anthology. I should be going up to school during study leave to finish my business portfolios, or i'll fail the subject. I haven't stepped foot back there since Friday and i know i won't be for this week atleast.

I want to burrow under the dirt.

Lay down in the dying heap that i am.

Sinned, branded. Pupils dilated red.

What am i doing? Where am i going? Leading? Turning?

Innocence ripped from me along with dignity and prospects.

Science experiment, examination for eating disorder research. Tubes in my veins, pen on my flesh. This is all i am now.

Varnished with bruises.

Selfish. Acording to the person who signed my guestbook 'someone' The message really upset me. It implied that i am just hurting my friends when they want to help, that i don't care. Yes, i am turning away from them, distancing myself but they never did really try. Never. They just don't know me. They heard i was ill but they never asked about it. They don't speak of it, the words are hushed, unheard, unspoken. No, they didn't fight, they didn't cry like has been suggested by the anonymous, They just turned there backs and got on with themselves. My closest friends involved in their lesbian relationship, not even pausing to glance my way.

It doesn't matter though. I understand why, i understand that this is how it is all supposed to be. I'm put rightly in my place. They are worth gold and i am worth tin.

Just, please don't get me wrong. I would never expect them to talk to me, to be concerned. They shouldn't have to.

I am nothing.

I am alone, i am fragile. I am hurting.

but i am nothing.

& i will always be able to see that.