I have taken a downwards turn, i do not know how or why, but the depression has become so intense. What was dark before is now endless numbing black, i cannot see. I don't even want to fight, i just want to lay here captive, let it hold me and soothe these silent tears, rocking back and forth with my own putrid stench, locking these painful words in tight. Just waiting, for the moment it starts to lift, fade back to a deep shade of grey, so that i can breathe again. For now, this is all there is.

Tell-tailing absence marks forming a week long row in the register. Maybe as the teacher calls my name, they look around, wonder what happened, unless they have forgotten already. I am easy to erase, that quiet girl who always seems so uncomfortable in her own skin. The one that smiles oddly when you look at her, and flees the class whenever sessions are over. The thought of going in fuels a burning fear inside me. I can't push myself, i can't talk and pretend and laugh.

I finally got dressed this afternoon at 3, pulling on some baggy clothes to cover my disgusting body. I look in the mirror and see a solemn face, force a smile that cannot stick. My eyes tell the true story, there is such sadness here. I've managed to have a bath and wash my hair, a vain attempt to convince myself i will make the bus to college tommorrow. Before that it hadn't even been brushed since yesterday morning. I've even been neglecting my skin care routine, it just presents another torturous battle with my ugly reflection.

If you threw a pebble at me, i might just burst. Into a million little pieces. No fire, just dust.

The meal on Tuesday was one of the hardest 2 hours i've had in a very long time. I had planned to have a salad, to eat as little as i could and try to resist purging. When it came to it, i seemed to find some sort of bravery, or insanity perhaps, i had normal portions, i acted normal, i played the game. I cannot rememnber the last time i managed that. But to me, it has not been an acomplishment, i am so far from proud. When i got home i had to pay, the most awful sence of guilt and regret came over me. How could i have ordered all of that? Let them see me have it? What must they have thought? I am not supposed to be allowed. They aren't allowed to know. As soon as i got back i told Mum i was having a bath, ignoring the concerned glance she gave me i bolted for my relief. Running the water while i got it all out, starter, main, desert, out, out, out, flushing it all away with shaky hands and legs knocking together. The walls twisted around me and i nearly fell to the ground.

I hadn't finished, it wasn't over yet, i needed more pain, more punishment. After climbing into the tub i reached for my razor, three smooth blades glinting under the light. I did not hold back. Pulling slits through my flesh, watching blood droplets spill gracefully into the water, turning clear into rose coloured tint. Afterwards, padding a palmful of bloody tissues to my arm and thigh, i was left with that calm, serene feeling. A pause, before the panic starts ringing again.

I still feel so bad, so utterly ashamed of myself.

I keep trying to make a doctors apointment but have had no luck yet. What is the pont anyway? They won't help me, i am not worth it.

This sinking feeling just will not leave me. Who am i? Anorexic. Bulimic. Depressed. Anxious. Frightened. I may as well not have a name anymore.

(She's gone, she won't hear your calls through the wind. Decending into the distance.)