Sunday, Jun. 22, 2003/7:19 pm

home alone

I was on my own all yesterday afternoon and night. My mum returned for half an hour today before leaving again and won't be back till Monday. Matthew's still at work, finishes at 11pm, gone by 8am tommorrow.

Alone.

The space becomes mine, to do as i please, to fixate on my disorder, to eat and eat, bury my mind in the cupboards. No distraction from that voice telling me to have more, then more again. Up till 4am, days and nights roll together with little sleep. Jelly mixes and whole ice cream tubs, house catapulted into a distaster of washing up, wrappers, spilt smoothies. I guzzled my way through 4 litres of diet coke and 4 cartons of juice, left dependant on water which i can't stand. Thankfuly i now have another 3 bottles to last. Sucking on ice cubes to divert from the taste of ketones.

Eyes fixed open with adhesive. Eyelashes glued to skin, proping open weary ducts. So tired you become charged on false fuel. Making meals at 3.33 am. The tick of the clock and sounds of nature make no difference. Each hour seems the same, non existant seconds lost through clouded thoughts. The air rests humid and muggy, a spindle on the finger eventually plummets you to rest. You wake up suddenly with cold sweats every once in a while. Rush for a drink, blood sugars peaking, fireworks and neon lights twist infront of you, stepping between fazy lines that hold together in tight stances. I've become so clumsy, i break something new almost everyday. The latest has been her precious white and blue mug, one of a set of two, dropped down the stairs like i was never holding it, not realising my grip was just to loose. Now just pieces, swept off the floor with our dust pan and brush, twinkling shapes of china.

Stomach protruding, the next moment flat. Then repeat again and again until your aching and sore. Still you continue, and you cry a small escape of tears, because theres no way out. No one will be back for ages, this is all you have and all you know to do. Greedy hands reaching into the biscuit tin and digging out ancient foods from the back of cupboards. So lonely, drenched in your self hate, knawing on your sanity. You cannot see right from wrong, fixated, obsessed, deranged. Streaming needs that just won't halt or slow down.

& you stay in your pajamas because whats the point in getting dressed?

& you don't brush the knots away, just tie your hair bag in a messy loop.

& you have no need to wash or clean your teeth.

Why answer the phone or pull back the curtains?

No stamina, dead impulses.

I look how i feel.

Then you find out they're coming home, soon. You hadn't prepared for this. Running around in worry, wiping surfaces, disposing of containers and hiding empty freezer delights. Moving the remaining contents around in the fridge, trying to make it look like theres more than there infact is. Sweep the floor, scrub the bathroom. Remove spots of sick that somehow made their way to the opposite wall, squirt bleach round the toilet rim. Try to make yourself presentable, pull on jeans and a top you find creased beneath your feet. Spray yourself with perfume and each room with air freshner.

I have my music up so loud, i don't want to decifer the thoughts ticking through my mind. Cereal is calling my name, rice krispies with great chugs of milk.

It's raining outside. The clouds keep bursting with buckets full then fading back to dim sunshine. It's like a picture from a postcard. Beautiful.

Sat in my prison, pulling at stray threads, quietly unravelling. No saviour on the horizon. No protectant spray to keep out the gloom. As bleak as an unenthusiastic see you soon. I wish i could find myself, who i could be if i wasn't falling. I want to peel away my layers until i am nothing, until i am not here, and no one will ever have to see me again. Split and crack into thin traces of before.

I am being held by these addictions, and i can't let go. I can't allow myself to be free.

i don't think i'm ever going to get better.

The glass is too thick to get through, and my fragile bones are too weak to even push.