I am so low, bathing in this black despair, a pin stuck through my heart holding me captive. I don't have the will for anything, least of all life.

I've spent all morning binging and purging, and all afternoon in bed. Listening to music, curtains blanking a dim shimmer of day light. Duvet up to my chin, covering this shameful, broken body. Cloaking the lumps and round areas in an attempt to forget they are even there.

I imagined pulling myself up off the matress and walking down to the kitchen. Watched an imaginary figure stumbling across the room and down the stairs to find the paracetemols. Counting them out one by one in my palm, in multiples of seven, and swallowing the tablets with a cup of water. Then i'd retreat back to my bed, pretending that everything was the same as before. As my eyes became heavier and sounds a little lighter, i'd tell myself that i would just be falling asleep.

Mum will be back soon. I asked her to post Gwen's parcel for me and to buy me some jelly beans with some money i gave her. They are on special offer, two 230g bags for only a pound. I've taken advantage of that several times already. I will eat them all, and then force myself to throw up. & i might even cry as the tears are just waiting to spill. Like a water fountain, first a slight drip, a trickle, and then a sudden gush of sadness.

Atleast it will prove i am still alive. I feel stone coated, dead but not yet buried.

I was supposed to hang all my clothes back up, from their scattered arrangement over the floor.

I was supposed to clean and tidy, re shelf my books and replace the cd's in their cases.

I was supposed to hoover the spilt cornflakes off the carpet

I was supposed to wash my hair. It has become a matted mess of grease. Really disgusting.

I was supposed to arrange another blood test and to keep taking my potassium.

The scales are my ruler. A routine that is repeated on ever wake & every available instant. As soon as i enter the house after returning from somewhere it is where i head. I am huge. I want to snip away at these thick layers and coat my arms in jaged dents. I want the flesh to fall off and peel away. I need so much less and i must get there, i have to. Bones are of no value when they are surrounded by fat. An expensive piece of china defaced with vile nail varnish remains useless, unless the cheap surface can be scrubbed away and removed.

I had a college interview yesterday. My voice felt so small, so distant, insignificant. I am not important, i do not matter or belong there. I asked about the possiblity of just doing two A level subjects if i felt i couldn't handle full time, but he wasn't impressed. I was basically told it should be all or nothing, they try to avoid partial studying. I have a feeling it will be nothing, or if i try i will crash. An all mighty crash of disappointment, sickness and frustration.

I have been drained and sucked of anything worthwhile. I have never been more than dirt. A rotting shell crumbling and disintegrating, sections drop away and flicker to ashes. My weak soul is screaming and i'm blinded by this darkness.