Saturday, Aug. 09, 2003/10:25 pm

confusion

Forgive me if this entry doesn't make sence. Made up of split ideas and contradictions. It's just been too long since i wrote here, and so much has been happening. Hopefuly my words won't run out under the strain of thick, furious ink.

It all boils down to the fact that i don't know what i am doing. What i want to do or go next. Unsure of what shoes to wear, or even what foot they slip onto, and what lipstain matches which outfit. You could split my thoughts into several catagories, all with aposing views and aspirations. Like a jumble sale, bursting with brick a brac, old books and little castaway objects, i cannot even start to sort this out.

I tried my hardest to be complacent, with some element of normality whilst Imo was visiting. It didn't really work, i was feeble and dodged as much contact as possible. On two occasions that i met up with her and Frances i fabricated elaborate excuses to leave early. Only lasting half an hour on one occasion. I feel terrible about it but when i'm acting i just need someway out, as soon as possible, before the ticket runs out, and the underneath starts leaking through the seams. Like cinderella, waiting for the stroke of midnight, where everything will switch back to drabs. Sitting in a cafe with my two best friends, i felt like someone had their hand over my mouth, blocking all i am, who i am, what i live for. Talking, waiting for Frances to put me down, waiting for Imo to shy away, glance in pity. but never stick up for me. Frances has the ability to make me incredibley nervous. Nervous of saying, doing the wrong thing, incase of dissaprovel.

I saw a really skinny girl today. She must have been anorexic. She didn't look good, almost scary with such a severe silhouette. Drawn with a sharp, pointed pencil and not chalk. I thought, she's to thin. Way to thin. I've got to be that thin, and then some.

My weight is stuck on a plateau. I am so frustrated with seeing the same unsatisfactory numbers display themselves upon the scales. Atleast with gaining you know what to expect and how to change it. I am not patient, i can't sit still.

We had to cancel my secound apointment in London on Wednesday. It was because the trains weren't running properly due to the heat. We re-sheduled it for Monday. I am desperate not to be admitted. My emotions are streaming from one instant to another. I received a phonecall Wednesday morning from Kookai at House of Fraser regarding a job interview, i had taken my cv in a while ago. I paniced and didn't really know how to react when she asked if i was still interested, but accepted the offer. After putting the phone down i immediately started crying because i want to carry on with my life and be able to work and go to college. I will be so upset if i'm unable to do that. I went for the interview yesterday, they are going to ring me during the start of this week to tell me if i was successful.

Yes, i am taking risks with this disorder, it could be what takes the furture away from me. I know that, but i'm just not ready to let it go. I can't just drop everything that keeps me here. I've told my Mum i really want to put ip off. That i will perhaps concider it furthur in a couple of months. The time is just so awkward. I want out of the whole situation. I need my space, i need my illness, i need it to survive. I don't want them near me. This is all going to be discussed on Monday. We are going to suggest that i continue as an outpatient for a while atleast.

They take my screams but they won't listen to my reasoning.

I won't follow their plan. I make my own way, plot my own points.

Perhaps killing myself is the point. I'm not sure anymore.

Scribbles across the walls. Wails of swirling words in wayward lines over dappled paper. Light a torch over my truth. Burn through the scroll. Lick flames through my inner voice. Maybe one day they'll find the ashes amongst fraid carpet, next to the mud and wine stains.

Then perhaps they'll realise that i had more to say.