I don't know what to say.

I'm okay. I think. Actually what does okay mean? It means i still exist, the blade has not slipped through my veins, i am still floating.

I can't think past food and weight and worrying for everyone else. I feel like i'm trying to pull myself in so many directions, yearning to help all those i care about, and feeling so useless. & my worst fear is that of being such a terrible friend.

I'm numb. With this isolation, and zero drive. Picking up my feet and getting out of bed each day is my only achievement. I scorn myself for everything i neglect to do, putting off a pile of unanswered letters and due homework.

I only made it into college for two days over the past week. I'm slipping, and i'm scared. I'm scared that it is happening again, scared of being caught out, trapped and restricted within this disorder.

I'm a vegetable. A nothing. I am useless. So useless.

I feel so big, disgusting, bulky, i have lost a little bit of weight recently, quite quickly, but still it is just not enough. I saw Cassie's Mum on Friday who said i looked 'great' and as if i'd gained weight. I just wanted to cry, those words stung so deep. I know she just meant well. She doesn't understand that my sickness, the pale face, haunted eyes, is all part of my disguise, my barrier. The idea of appearing remotely healthy sends warning signs straight to my concience. After she'd left, i finished the pasta salad, sandwiches and chocolate i had hidden beside me in a carrier bag. Then it was straight on to the nearest avaiable public toilet, throwing up until i was dizzy, my legs felt weak and i was spitting bile.

~shrinkawayshrinkawayoutofsight~

Watch me fade like wishes from a dandillion stem, through the wind.

I can't let anyone know me. Cocooned in my shell, and forever left in darkness, no sparkle to entice butterfly wings.