Friday, Oct. 04, 2002/9:56 pm

Nothing's changed

Im walking dangerousley on lily pads, over murky waters, Underneath me are the people who don't understand, trying to coax me down, and take me away from everything i know. Ahead of me is a place where i feel right, with hopes of getting thin, it's dark there but comforting, control with destruction.

I'm being watched alot, but getting by. In the day it's easy to pretend i'm eating at school. dinner's the worst. Tonight i had tea then a small binge, said i was going in the bath and purged. It was okay, she didn't figure it out, i just need to be very careful. Thankfuly i'm not gaining weight, but still not losing it either.

I kept telling my Mum i wouldn't go to the doctors, i thought she could have finally accepted it, but it seems that by saying that i'll fall flat on my face. She told me yesterday evening that she had already talked to the doctor about me, and they had agreed that because i wouldnt go on my own they would have to arrange something else, like a home visit. When i heard this i was furious, i am so frightened, everytime someone knocks at the door i get worried. If someone turns up here i don't know what i'd do. I'd have to get away, just run anywhere. I just don't think i could stay and listen to anyone like that. I don't even feel worthy of the doctors, i don't feel i've got bad enough to see a councilor or anything like that. I don't mean enough to have a serious condition. I'm not thin for a start, i havn't lost enough i'm fat and gross, i weigh less than i did a few weeks ago but i can't feel it at all, nothing makes sence. I really hope i can fool my Mum into dropping the whole recovery idea, it's probabley impossible but i'll try my hardest to convince her i'm alright. Tonight she commented that i had started to eat again and smiled, i felt so guilty, really i've made no progress at all, i'm still purging, still starving, nothing's changed. Maybe she can't believe her daughter would be so awful to keep pretending. I can't help taking her comment as a good sign though, she's buying my recovery act, i just hope i don't trip up again. I know these thoughts arn't right but i feel they will always be with me. I'm scared of happiness and i crave pain and hurt. Red blood beads feel like my savour. Any form of help has become another enemy of mine.

A friend at school wrote a song about me, about my trail of corruption it seems. It's called "What did you expect?" and has refrences to bingeing, blood and "feeding on practically nothing" He's suddenly started writing lyrics and showing them to a group of my friends who reckon they're making a band. This song shocked me, i suppose because naiveley i thought everyone might would have forgotten by now. Though as i never eat infront of them i guess they will never be able to accept this lie that i'm better. I wasn't really upset by it, just angry, not at him but at myself. For ever letting anyone find out about all this stuff, now they will probabley never be able to leave it in the past. I'm always wearing my mask at school, i know i'll never be able to make a facade as convincing as the person i used to be but i do try to cover it all. Sometimes i will look depressed, try to avoid them, and they see all my effort at work has been lost, but i'll always make sure to follow it up with smiles, conversation and random weirdness that everyone always expects from me. Maybe my pretence is obvious, i don't know, but i'll keep telling them my bad stage is behind me.

Sometimes it's asthough i live a double life. At school i am completley different person, a cloaked, watered down version of the true mess i am underneath. When i get home i just melt down, shout at my family, keep myself away from the world and revel in my unhappiness. I don't know what i'm doing half the time, or why, my life is a big confusion littered with unanswered questions and thoughts. A neverending cycle, that i can't bring myself to leave.