I feel so broken. Depressed and alone. Hopeless. Holding these pieces of shattered glass in my hands, with empty eyes that scream for affection. Perhaps just a brush of a hand against my back or fingers entwined with mine, contact to interupt this deathly solitude. I can only imagine what it would be like.

I am beyond exhausted but have done nothing at all useful today. Waking up each morning can be difficult when you know exactally what is ahead. My quota for each day just a tally for hours of sleep, b/p sessions, amount eaten, lies told, secrets concealed. What do other people do? 'Normal' people? How do they fill the time? I cannot handle it.

I love to sleep. To crawl under those covers and fall into the comfort of a soft matress. Shutting my eyes i know i can rip a tiny hole in the surface of this hell and climb through it. Walk along a grass embankment or be chased through an adventure for an hour or so, even nightmares are welcome. It is all so much better than reality.

My body is a minefield of injuries. A large bruise to my stomach, which has been there for weeks. It is black and angry, formed by the pressure of an injection, as is the purple spot to my arm. Scratches to my legs and ankles, red lines that sting as they touch water, caused by my own nails grating dry skin. I am coated in white flakes, moisturiser readily absorbed like liquid to a dry sponge.

I have lost my mind. Paint is streaming in different colours down the walls around me. I am drowning in chaos, a struggle of guilt and morality, a struggle to survive.

& I'm just so ugly i want to cry. I can't look, can't face the mirror.

Living for this eating disorder. Following the commands like a robot. Yet i shouldn't even be complaining. It is All. My Fault.

I try to do all i can to help others, and the one thing i need to do for them, and for me, i cannot stop. I am the only one who can release these chains from around my wrists, but i won't do it. It has such a hold over me, a possesive, destructive, close grasp that i can't shake away.

If i ever do get away from here, i am going to run so hard and never ever look back. My feet will blister and bleed but i will not care. These are the dreams that are keeping me alive.