going overboard

ok- this is something both carrie and stew know. and it's really crappy. but yeah.

anorexia/bulimia: i haven't eaten over 750 cals a day since a couple weeks ago. or at least, not without throwing quite a bit of it up. this past week it has been (with the exception of sarah's party) all under 500. i could list every single thing i've eaten if i wanted to. but i don't. if i gave you my food diary url, you would think that you could eat all i've eaten in this past week in a day and not be worried about it. but i worry about even that much. it's ridiculous. i hate it. but i can't stop. and i hate all the people out there who claim they care about me and then try and say something stupid like "just eat a sandwich and get over it". *sigh* but yeah. and there are some side-effects from me not eating that are showing up prominently now. for those who don't already know: i'm not telling you. don't feel bad.... it's just hard.

cutting: i haven't been doing this. thanx to carrie. plus the last time sort of scared me. i didn't want that that night. not that i haven't wanted it b4 then, or even after. but yeah. crappy: i know.

everything else: my life is depressing, a bore, it seems to be a waste of time to me. when becca killed herself, i thought that it was horrible the way people were reacting: not that they were sad, but that she would do that to people who loved her. i don't blame her, but ... i think you could get my gist. but i keep thinking, if i killed myself: who would miss me: they might mourn, then move on. they would probably forget me in a couple years if not sooner. so what dif would it make? but yes, i know: ppl care, they would be sad, they would mourn. they would remember. even though i think it would be a waste of their time. *sigh* i don't know. but i'll be here for a while. yup: i'll be here for a while.

not much else: well: just the norm... but yeah.

yesterday- jazz's party

well- yesterday was cool- yet horrible: will write on cool part for dreamless-slumber. but yeah. i went to jazz's party. after i took an antidepressant so i wouldn't be depressed at her party. about an hour b4 it was over, it wore off. so i got majorly depressed. yup. joy

then- just to add to my misery. i started feeling like i was going to faint again. great. yeah: that's what comes from not eating. uh-huh. this week i've consumed milk or green tea in the morning, water in the day. a couple fries, cheetos for lunch. maybe a slushee. i had an apple one day, but without the fries or cheetos. and cereal, or rice after school. a couple days i had nothing. i'm down to about 110 lb again. i want to lose more. yes- i know it is bad. do i particularly care? not at the moment. yup...

carrie got worried about me. understandably. but yeah.

now- if you haven't already: go read dreamless slumber. it will cheer you up somewhat. i hope.

nothing...

well- last night was lovely… yup… by now- you should get that very few (if any) of the things I write on this blog are good. so yeah…

ok- last night… I got really really depressed. there’s so much going on in my life. just stupid stuff- get to that later. but yeah- I let one thing get to me, and it made a hole in my wall, and everything else came flooding through. I end up cutting. badly. very badly. my hand turned really pale, my pulse was weak (these were all cuts on one arm. ) I was going to start on the other hand, but then I closed my hand into a fist: it was cold. really really really cold. like ice just taken out of the freezer. I sorta freaked… then thought about would it be so bad to die? but then, I thought yeah. I have stuff I want to do. and it seems a bit… not selfish… but not considerate of other people who do care. the last thing I am is inconsiderate. I still debated it for about 4 hours or so though. obviously I didn’t do it though… but yeah…

okay- something else. my parents know I’m cutting. they see the bloody tissues, do they do anything? not really. my dad will confront me about it about 3 months after the fact. one time he confronted me about it, and wanted me to give him the razor blades, and I said “what difference will it make? I’ll find something else to cut with. big whoop.” so I got to keep my blades. uh-huh.

I’ve burned a bit lately too. like- I get the urge to cut, instead I go get a paperclip and light a candle, hold the paperclip in the flame til its white and press it against my flesh and watch it melt. great- huh?

um… I haven’t been eating much. it’s like: a bag of cheetos and a slushee for lunch. maybe cheetos for an afternoon snack, or maybe skittles, or maybe nothing. in the evening it’s either nothing, 1 mini-pizza, or cereal. half of the time I ruin whatever I am going to eat so that its less appetizing. I throw up after a certain amount. I hate myself for eating. I hate myself for even thinking about eating. if I eat, I want to cut (and you see how well that goes). I started my pro-ana website again. and my food blog. if you want the addresses- too bad. no fucking way am I giving them to you. deal.

um... yeah.. i'm constantly depressed. stew is the only one who sees this right now: i really can't stand to put up a facade 10 hours a day, so i settle for 8. the minute i get to school it's on with the plastic smile and "everything's great" attitude. i don't talk to carrie that often anymore. she's occupied with timmy. which is ok... but... i don't know. she's the main person i talked to... and now... there's noone. i mean... there are people.. but. i just felt at ease with carrie. i talk to david about some stuff. i quit talking to stew a while ago. plus david has enough of his own stuff to deal with- he doesn't need to hear my crap too... even though he will probably read this sooner or later... lol... i think...

um... the voice has become more like... 3 overlapping ones. constantly reminding me of how i am worthless and no one should be wasting their time on me and how i'll never be enough, and i'm fat, and stupid, and not talented, and will never amount to anything: i'm a failure. i always will be, always have been. i don't deserve to be strong, i don't deserve to cry. i don't deserve to live or to die. it doesn't matter. i don't matter. i deserve to suffer for all my flaws. suffer forever. continuously fool those around me that i'm fine. that i am happy, while i am slowly dying and killing myself on the inside. i don't deserve to have people care about me, let alone worry. I don’t deserve anything.

so yes- my life is wonderful. a perfect dreamland. please don’t pay attention to the tears on my cheeks, be blinded by the perfect broken smile I have on my face, and the lies I give you: that I’m ok. you don’t need to be burdened by my screams, or my scars, or the blood that is slowly spilling onto the floor. forget me. I shouldn’t matter to you anyway. forget me, for I am nothing…