Wednesday, May. 28, 2003/10:50 pm

thirsty and shattered

My sugar levels have been very high today and still are.

My focus blurry, i can't read the dosage on the side of the paracetemol bottle. Small typing appears tiny, squashed together to make one blotted line.

So thirsty, my Mum keeps saying i've become 'obsessional' about drinking everything. I charge through it all, gulping ravinously like someone whose been without water for 3 days. Tall glasses leap from full to empty in 10 seconds. I make my way down to the bottom of cartons in one go, litres of diet coke. My stomach becomes so full of fluid i rush to the toilet just in time to watch it gush out of me, no food, just pure liquid. I am still parched, throat resembling sand paper. Flip open another litre of pinneaple juice and swig straight from the cut plastic. I am about to make myself another mug of tea, very milky and sweet. I just had coffee. Soon i will throw up again because it takes up too much space. Then start the cycle over.

I've given my notice in at work because it's become too much for me to manage. Frances is taking it over. I find it too draining to push the ward trollies around and lift heavy boxes. This plaguing flaw has managed to pull yet another thing from me. It's won this duel like many others.

The light looks orange.

Patches of white that glow when shutters are pulled down appear illuminously bright.

Steps are heavy, motions air bound, floating aimlessly.

I've been shot, one bullet through the head and one through the chest. Leaving me wheezy and breathless.

I need another drink already, my tea has mysteriously dissapeared in a matter of moments. And, yes i am that funny grey, purple colour again.

Off to the fridge to find apple juice.

Soon i'll go to bed. I am physically shattered, energy gone.

At least i'll weigh less by tommorrow. I don't know why this means so much. I know it's nothing, not really. It's shallow, stupid. I don't judge by appearance so why do i feel i have to fit media requirments and shrink myself to the ground? I can't understand it. All i know is that i need it, somehow.

I know i'll be waking up in the night. Drinking, peeing and being involuntarily sick, as usual when my sugar levels rise so much. I usually find myself gagging mouthfulls of acid straight down the plughole. And crying.

I need to sleep for a few hours, just so i don't have to be awake.