Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2002/11:12 pm

lifeless and confused

I'm tucked up in my own little shell, away from the cold of light. Trying to block everything out, trying to avoid the real world and any real communication. I have nothing inside me, i need to feel something, something to pick me up off the ground. I want to be given the force to lift my wings and fly into the bright sky to wherever my spirit takes me, but it will never happen. My spirit is dead, burnt out inside me, keeled over like a wiltered flower. I'm stranded in the dirt, people walk by but don't stop, don't even glance at me. These dark emotions smother me, thrive off of my apathy, sometimes i just feel so utterly lifeless, lifting my head seems to much.

I suppose i've reached the extreme of keeping people out, i'm so scared of ever letting any of my friends back in. Becoming close to any of them again, scared of hurting them, scared to interupt this sad comfort, scared i'll cling to them and become dependent. I have been like that before, with Cassie, because i found i could talk to her and i'd never been able to do that properly with anyone else before. It was asthough she was my last hope and any blow that came from her felt a million times worse. Whenever i confide in her now, even just a little hint i feel sick incase i tell her too much. I either give people my everything or my nothing, they can't win and neither can i.

I'm still in this stage of being powerless around food at the moment. Purging has become so easy, i havn't even needed to use my hands this past week, the food just falls out of me, it's amazingly scary in a way. When i'm done i'm always left shaking and shivering really badley, my skin is constantly freezing. I just can't stop eating excessivley then emptying it all away along with my energy, which drains away so rapidly. I always seem to end up exhausted by the end of the day, wondering where time went. I'm cutting alot lateley, just sitting in bed slicing my arms up, over and over, wanting more blood and more pain, my razor blades always left with the bright stain of red against the silver edge.

I always skip from one point to another, i start off writing about something and end up somewhere completley different. Thoughts just lead onto one another, and i get lost in the trail. It's the same with the way my days seem to roll into weeks, and months and i look back knowing i have acomplished nothing. I'm at a standstill but everything still moves around me, the dates, people, but i am unaffected. Even if my body is awake my mind isn't. It's all so blurry, mixed together and i can't pull it apart again. I don't even understand what i'm talking about now. Nothing makes sence.