I've got such a headache. I keep taking paracetemol but it never helps. As soon as i make myself sick the pulsing ache floods back in. I can't escape it.

I'm bloated. Purging doesn't take it away. This feeling, of awkwardness, uncomfortable areas of my body owning too much space.

The past few days have been a whirlwind. Such a blur, of stability and then a fast track down, a few hours of enjoyment erased by the next turn of devestation.

Thursday. I went out, i went shopping. I had my hair cut at Toni & Guy and i felt good. I went to buy some products at the Clinique counter and they let me join in on a promotion they had going on, as they know me quite well there. It was with a professional make-up artist who works at GMTV and usually charges 200 pounds and upwards per session. It was so refreshing to spend time over something i am interested in, with others who share that and don't know my history or what may be lurking beneath the surface.

It was flattering too. The consultants wouldn't stop raving about my long eyelashes, and the make-up artist said to me - "Maybe I'll see you at Vogue one day" I replied "I don't think so!" Wondering if she was playing a joke on me for some strange reason. She came back with "Why not? You have such stunning eyes." She also advised me to try and eat more avocado's, nuts, oily fish and drink more water, because although i have 'amazing' skin on my face i'm quite dry on my arms and body. Maybe she had an idea of why, as she winked at me afterwards.

I came home slightly smiling. I had binged at Mc Donalds and various other places which was a bit of a let down. Even though i was placid, i wasn't angry or too sad, but i needed it. It is my addiction. Still, aside from that i played normal, i spoke and i didn't feel like i'd made a fool out of myself. It was such an unfamiliar feeling.

The next day however, was horrendous.

I got caught shoplifting at the Co-op. A bag full of cheese & snacks. Pockets stuffed with chocolates and sweets, i was being sloppy. I somehow knew i'd be caught and i kept going. I noticed the tall guy watching me from the doors, as i scurried around the aisles. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers. I went around corners, arms full of produce, to find the areas free of security cameras. Then i'd walk from the other side empty handed, having slipped it all into my green shoulder bag.

I was just walking out of the door and he stopped me, started searching me, taking the familiar Cadbury packets out of my jeans. I started to cry, right there, i said sorry, and sorry again. He led me back into a small room at the back of the shop and called the main supervisior. I was so embarrassed, when he tipped it all out over the table, a disgustingly huge pile of food. Humiliating.

I was in such a state, hysterical, but he was so sweet to me. He tried to calm me down but i was shaking and tears were soaking my face. I couldn't stop apologising. All i kept saying was 'i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, please know how sorry i am.' In confusion and desperation i blurted out 'i have an eating disorder', but the supervisor addmited she had guessed that already. She asked me whether it was bulimia and would i have binged and thrown it all up. I was so ashamed and just choked out "I don't know".

Fortunately i was let off. They were reasonable and i am so thankful for that, they were actually quite worried. The security guard even put his arm around me, he told me that they'd asked him if they should call the police and he'd said no.

In the end they let me go, with several sheets of tissue. I was just told not to return. I wouldn't ever do that anyway, i haven't been out since.

I thought it would happen soon enough. I've been playing with fire, but perhaps this is what i needed to make me stop again.

I feel evil, i really do. An eating disorder can turn you into someone completely different, someone you'd never imagine you could be. Me, a thief? I wouldn't believe it if you'd told me that three years ago.

Since then i've been trying to figure out inside my head. It's all so mixed together. All i keep thinking of is what a mess i must have looked, sick, a very sick girl. I guess that is what i am.

College is tommorrow. I'm truly petrified. Of the people, of the cafeteria, of being too weak, and most of being a complete disappointment. I'm scared of talking to anyone on the bus in the morning, or if they say something to me. How will i react? How to force the words out of my throat when i'm terrified of gagging on them? I have to pack my bag, get my books together and seek out the stationary i bought last year. I am so unorganised.

I need to wash my hair and pluck my eyebrows, and yet infront of me sits a plate laden with crisps, dips and blocks of Cheddar, a strawberry yoghurt on my left and full glass of Diet Coke on my right. I am alone and this is my only company. If my friends could see me now they would be so shocked, and revolted. I feel so lonely.