Saturday, Feb. 28, 2004/10:40 pm

scratching

Dry mouth,

cracked lips,

weary eyes.

I.

Need.

To wake up.

*

Just injected a shot of novorapid but it's setting in slowley. Insulin racing into acidic cells, flushing out the glucose. I've been taking it, plunging the needle into my skin before i have a moment to scream panic. Tonight is the first time i've been HI in days. I know this is what i have to do, the right way...yet why does it feel so wrong?

My Dad took me to have my hair cut at Toni & Guy. I was really looking forward to it, but my lack of confidence destroyed that. I couldn't have alot changed because they said it was too thin already. I felt so out of place, amongst all the pretty girls, having streaks and feathered layers blended perfectly into style. I also felt unwothy of any ammount of time, effort or money.

The car journey up to the salon was filled with lies on my part, and awkward comments from him.

"Still eating?"

"Yeah, i'm okay."

"Not sticking your fingers down your throat?"

"No"

Smiling fake reasurances and willing to get through it and home, so i can binge and purge.

*

Scratching wounds from the inside out.

Still yearning,

to watch them weepbleedspillflood.

Red footprints,

red handprints.

Blind&blank&washed.out.

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I'd be so, so grateful if someone could perhaps design me a new template? xxxxxxxxxxx