The tell-tail signs are there, however bright or dim they may be i am still so overly self conscious. It's shown in my unplucked eye-brows, the mist spots on my glasses, the sores around my finger-nails where i've anxiously picked away at the skin. Lapses in effort, tiny portholes into a withering soul. I sit in class trying to listen to discussions of Hardy and Keat's poetry, attention averted as i test my wrist circumference with a tight grasp, and pinch the flesh until it turns red, dissolving to white as i release my hold. Leaving the colleges disabled toilet with wet mascara smudges blotted from once perfectly black lashes, i look around me and i hope they do not realise. The most obvious indication of all is the lonely and desperate glance in my tired eyes.

I am constantly worried about what people are thinking of me. So much so that i want to shadow their crystalised view, place myself behind them and discover ways to change. I just want to please everyone. I wish to appear glossed and painted, unbreakable, but the cracks are hard to hide. I am blotted with so many chips and bruises. A weakly placed smile that vanishes as i rest my focus down towards the ground, escaping the pretence for a moment.

I cried on my birthday. Most of my friends forgot, and the guilt of being bothered made me feel a million times worse. I shouldn't be upset, it isn't their fault. I should never expect anything (selfish bitch), I am not worth it. On the sideboard downstairs there are a few cards that managed to warm my heart, but they are from family, my Nan, someone from the hospital i still keep in touch with, only two from friends here, the ones that could have made a real difference.

I wonder how much i can give of myself until there just isn't anything left?

We broke up for half term today, the last few weeks have felt more like years, dragging myself through never quite knowing if i'll make it past another hour. I need a rest i really do, but i doubt my body will be granted with that. I'm heading for another heart attack at this rate, binging, purging, supermarket shops atleast every other day, my on-going obsession with the scales, even though the result has been far from satisfactory lately.

The truth is I feel awful. Moods are bouncing off opposite walls, eratic, suffocating in this turning tide of depression. I'm really not sure why but tonight has been particularly bad. I'm jittery and have frequently been bursting into floods of tears. Arguing with Mum and mixing up my dinner like i used to, i'm creeping back into old habits and it's sickening. Tommorrow i am getting out of the house, and this weekend will be busy, i need to pull myself together.

How? Why? Where next? Which line of destruction to follow, a fresh scored cut marked with a rusty nail. I'm plagued with questions i cannot answer, questions that follow me wherever i go. Will i ever be able to find peace again?