I merely exist as a figure, a figure that does not move or cast a shadow. I am useless. I cannot find motivation for anything, for simple tasks, contact with other people, life. Day after day i'm banging my head against a brick wall but i can't even feel the pain. I'm frozen between the numb folds of of this disorder. Spending time binging. purging, laying on my bed exhausted, sitting at the computer or staring at the tv without really watching it. Scared that the phone might ring, scared that a text will come through from a friend asking me what i've been upto recently or whether i want to meet up. It is a rare occurance, but still unsettling. My concentration is terrible, i might last for about half an hour infront of a film before my thoughts run away with me.

I think the prozac has been making a slight difference. It will soon be two weeks since i've been taking them. I feel less tearful, i cried yesterday but that was the last time in quite a while. The suicidal ideas have dimmed, but the anxiety is just as bad if not worse. I just don't want to leave the house. Incase i see someone i know, someone that will ask me questions, questions i won't know how to answer. I don't want to be seen by anybody, even strangers.

None of my summer clothes fit. I've tried on every new skirt, top, and those pretty, delicate dresses with the butterflies all over them. I was stupid to buy it all, thinking i could lose a bit more weight and it wouldn't matter. What was it i said? That i was going to try and ignore the self conscious part of me that wants to hide away in baggy clothes, and wear what i want to this year. Seems like i have no choice over that now anyway, everything looks so terrible and mis-shapen on me. I just can't understand it. One of the skirts fell straight down after i'd zipped it up, and they are all the smallest size available. I see these tiny snatches of cloth and fabric, i see the way they hang off of me, and yet i see the areas of my body that still take up too much room. I am too big.

I feel uncomfortable in my own house at the moment, but i think i'll have to get used to that. Mum's boyfriend is gradually moving in, and i've now found out that it might become permanant. Of course i wasn't actually told that, it just slipped out casually during conversation like it was nothing. I'm always in my room or avoiding them, if i stay downstairs for too long i feel like i'm in the way, i am not wanted there.

I cannot function properly. I'm flat, turned off. My head is not working as it should, not kicking in when i need it to. I'd persuaded myself to take some insulin this afternoon, 7 units. About 5 minutes later i couldn't remember whether i'd actually injected it or not, so repeated the dose. Later, my sugar levels came crashing down. I get so confused, and i'm as clumsy as ever.

I have an othodontist apointment on Monday and then that hyperthyroidism test next Friday. I'll have to try and pull myself together, and make myself look presentable for both.

Writing has been particularly hard. On so many occasions i've been here looking at a white page, lost between the blank screen, with so much to say but so little to say it with. I feel relieved to have actually gotten through this entry.