Tuesday, Jul. 29, 2003/11:56 pm

unknown

I feel like bony fingers are grasping my throat, enclosing my breathing space. I cannot swallow properly and i'm purging blood again which i haven't done in quite a while. My knuckles are red and sore, indented with teeth marks. The helpful hands free function seems slightly stiff at the moment. I have even torn away a small patch of skin. I am not startled by any of this, and that is what makes it so sick.

Atleast i made it out today. On my own of corse. I bought a new belt, only to discover upon arriving home that it is too big. It slips down my waist on the tighest setting. I will have to return it. I then found myself at Mcdonalds, ordering a large meal complete with Mcflurry. Then furthur to various other food outlets. Finally to the public toilets, heaving the experience away, along with salty tears. I just started crying, crying because i knew that this is how i will be spending the rest of my life, forever, if i can't stop. Crying because i knew that wouldn't be the last time, that i would be back staring down the toilet bowl within a matter of hours, or even minutes.

I am closed within such shallow conditions, unable to wake up and challenge my morals. When we ran out of diet coke today, and only water was left, the untasteful drip of the tap, i begged my Mum to drive me to the supermarket just to buy another bottle. Needing it to tame my thirst from high blood sugar levels. My list of priorities is shameful.

I saw a friend of mine from school whilst walking back to the station. He was just passing and asked how i was, to which i replied okay. He sounded concerned and i didn't really understand why until i caught my reflection in a shop window. A girl so pale, and drawn, blue lips, eyes although covered in purple makeup, so vacant, waiting for winter.

I made this figure, yet i do not know her anymore. Lost within myself.