Thursday, Dec. 19, 2002/5:09 pm

painful

It hurts to open my eyes each day, knowing whats ahead, knowing what i'll do, knowing i can't do a thing to change anything...

I keep saying i'll stop binging soon, fast tommorrow, but i never do. I binge at every spare moment, filling myself so far trying to cover this lonliness and depression. I just don't want to face up to things, forever trying to block everything out of my mind. My weights up a bit again, i'm a failure, fat, fat FAT slice slice slice...

My chest is constantly acheing at the moment, i'm always cold and shaky and everytime i take my coat off there are clumps of hair on it that have fallen out. My heart was beating really strangely yesterday too, pounding loudly, i felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, i don't know how to describe the sound, but it just wasn't right, healthy.

My sugar level dropped low in my exams the other day and had to leave in the middle to go get a sugary drink, it was so embarrassing. Later the year head came to talk to me, she was asking me loads of weird questions like was i eating properly and was i worried about anything, Of corse i lied.

It's nearly Christmas. I'm not looking forward to it at all. I associate everything about it with food, lots of food. I can't stop thinking about how i'll manage to purge xmas dinner without anyone noticing, it's sad. Last year i eat it and kept it in, i don't know how i did it, i can't do that this year, i definatley can't. I binged so much last December, January, Feburary, after just coming out of my first ana/mia phase. I remember laying on the sofa, with the white lights on the tree shining, frost outside, and stuffing myself full of celebration chocolates, unable to gain any control, hiding the wrappers away afterwards. I don't want to be like that this year but who am i kidding? I'm no better at all. I'm so much worse. This year has been a downwards slope and i havn't yet reached steady ground, i probabley never will.

I feel so robotic. Just this thing thats told to eat and purge and eat and purge but always still feeling so empty inside. Like it's not me but something directing me, because i always just feel so flat and feeble.

I stand on the train station and i feel like jumping.

I stare at the paracetemol box, just stare.

I drag the blade over my skin and pray for the courage to press down over my wrists.

Then i think of you and i know i just can't...

and so i sink, furthur down, furthur away, weaker, wasting, bleeding, dying. As everything becomes ever more fazy around me.