Wednesday, Jul. 02, 2003/11:51 pm

pick me up

I'm spending so much time just laying on the sofa into vacant space. Grey and compressed into a rigid block.

Minutes skip and move, i ignore the ring of the telephone. Turn over and shut my eyes once more, wishing to open them somewhere else. All i find is tears. I'm so tired, so unsteady and shaky. My insides drained of every last drop. Acid creeping it's way up my throat involentary.

I was supposed to go to my follow up emergency diabetic apointment today at 3.20. They are trying to check up on me but i did not risk it. I said i was ill. At the last apoitnment they told me to go away and attempt to sort my blood sugars out, which i haven't done. If i return worse than i was before then i'll probably end up back in hospital. Between those crisp white sheets, gazing out the tall windows at normal life.

Tommorrow i might push myself to go out, i can't let myself spend the whole summer holidays this way.

I eat less today, purged 6 times which is lower than average for me. I just couldn't be bothered. It takes so much effort to move when your body feels like led, pulling you down towards the ground. I've had to reach out for a grip each time i force myself up. White stars fleck across my eyes and the view turns white for a second, i imagine myself dropping to the floor, head hitting the cold surface. The next moment colour seeps back into focus, yet i don't even feel human. I feel like i am one part and my body is another, stumbling below me, out of call. I don't respond to the desperate warnings, my slurred mind deciding upon more pain.

I need something to pick me up,

pick me out of the grave pile.

Sinking,

fading,

letting it take over,

till theres nothing here anymore.

Nothing thats worth a thought.