Why hello there.

I sincerely apologise for having not posted for such an incredibly long time. I am a shit person to follow.

Jacob dumped me. It's because of the cigarettes, but I can't give up. It's too difficult. And I also think that just maybe, I can't give up. Either way, every day has been harder than the last. To think that I'll never wake up next to him, or kiss him, or be held by him ever again brings me to tears. I did cry yesterday, because I just hate all of this so much.

I also realise just how off the wagon I have well and truly fallen. So as of today I shan't eat any meat, aside from when Mum Julie makes her roast once a week, because I can't ask her to make me something different - she slaves over that stove.

I will buy some scales, new digital scales. And this will start again. I pledge to starve, purge, and take laxatives. Because everything needs to be righted again.

Fucked off beyond belief.

I fucking despise being made to feel guilty about depression. My depression is back and the worst it's been in a while, and Jacob just doesn't understand. I have no energy to fight it, let alone get up off of the couch I've been sleeping on for the last week. If I can't walk 10 steps into my bedroom (right next to the living room), then how can I find it within myself to see or talk to anyone?


This is the boy that I sometimes think I could marry. But right now I wonder if this is the boy that will ever truly understand me. I don't know if he still reads my blog since finding it. Part of me hopes he'll see this post, because I don't think I could tell him this. 


Last night my sister sent me a text telling me how much she's been crying because of me. Because I left. Funny thing is, I left mainly because she would cry every night hearing the arguments I had with my mother. After that I went and bought ten cigarettes and smoked them within an hour. So much for giving up. 


Today Jacob and I have been doing nothing but arguing about my depression, and the fact that I lie about it. I don't have the energy to argue about it anymore. The depression isn't my fault. I refuse to accept that it's my fault.


It's like all grip on reality has disappeared. And I can't regain it into my clutches again.

Depression.

Last night was perhaps the hardest night I have faced in a while. The thoughts overwhelm me.

I have found a razor, I have found diet pills. I have lost my sanity.

I haven't used them yet, not really. I never was much good with razors anyway. It's just the sheer difficulty in not wanting to wake up every morning, but not being able to get to sleep either.

I'm pretty sure I got that from "better that we break". Y'all should listen to that song and tell me what y'all think.

Old Woman.

I don't think I've ever managed to convey to anybody how much I truly hate having old woman hips. They dislocate and I have sciatica and I fucking hate it.


Haven't been able to make it into college, and have had to cancel one of my final driving lessons.


Yes, whilst I will admit that this is a fairly uneventful post, I needed to let you all know how much I despise my bones.

Confusion.

I don't know if I can carry this blog on any longer. 


Jacob found it. He was scanning through my emails on hotmail and decided he wanted to know what my blog is about. He read a lot, and we argued. 


I feel like my privacy has been violated. Not because it was him in particular who found it, but just because it was found. He says he won't read it anymore, because he doesn't want to know anymore than he's already found out. But now my blog has been discovered. It's like my blog has suddenly become a part of the real world, and I hate it.


Jacob went through a stage of drinking vodka every day. Now I'm sat here at 11.56 AM halfway through a bottle of vodka. I'm going to his house for a sunday roast soon.


I'm just so fucking tired of all of this.


Now if I'm feeling like cutting, I'm worried to post it.  Honestly, what would you do?

They Will Not Control Us.

I'm wasting money getting a cab to work, because I can't bear to be conscious of the fact that I'm outside. 


Today is not a good day.


And on that note, I just sneezed so hard that my headphones fell off of my head ;D 

Grarh.

"Grarh", ladies and gentlemen, is my fucked up way of saying "grr". Oh fun times ;D

Today is in fact one of those horrible days in which I know I'm going to have to go outside. I don't particularly want to leave the house, but hey.

I really don't like leaving the house... Do you ever have problems with it?

They Can't Save Us Like This.

It's a disgustingly sudden realisation, and all of a sudden you feel yourself fighting the urge to run as fast as you can to the white cubicle to become just that. Pure again.


It's like I know everything that's wrong with me, I know everything that I have to fix. I know I'm too big, too loud, too quiet. Too much. I looked down at my arm and finally saw what was really there. I felt my legs and felt everything that was lying underneath my skin. I knew my stomach was pressing against the table, and I pressed it harder. You see, I know I'm not too fat. I know I'm average. Slap bang in the middle average. But that's the worst part. You could pass me in the street and not take another look, not notice anything is wrong.


But of course, it all is isn't it? The voices have gone and my mind is empty. Now instead of others taunting me, my own harsh critique resonates from the walls and barriers. Boundaries which I have put up, yet will most likely never put down. Everyday is either hurtful or devoid of feeling. My skin tingles now, and I scream to myself in my empty head that I need to let out the bad. But what if when I start letting out the bad, I won't be able to stop? Maybe then any happiness I have left will be let out too. And it'll all wash away the good. It'll wash Jacob away, my sister away, and any future prospects at happiness away. Proper happiness, like in the movies.


If I ever told the hospital this again, they wouldn't do anything. It's their fault that I'm here now and hurting worse than ever before/ I told them everything and they said they could fix it. Fix me. But they lied and sent me home just a few long hours later. Ha, home. I told them them how horrid it was, I told them that I cut and purged and pulled my hair and cried and shouted, just to get away from it all.


Apparently by telling them everything, I demonstrated that I have sufficient coping capabilities to carry on living. Ironically I told them just ten minutes before that, that I often went to the train station and fantasised about throwing myself under a high speed train. Y'know the sort that make the tannoy say "please move away from the edge of the platform, the approaching train is not scheduled to stop here". Funny that, because right now, more than anything, I want to bleed, to jump from that platform. 


I have more than sufficient coping capabilities, evidently. When will the System just wake up and learn? They can't save us like this.

I need to get rid of my curves. They are dirty, parasitic and the reason everything bad happens.

Last night I stayed at my friend's house. This morning I woke up to him stroking me everywhere, my hands my boobs my stomach my bum, hands trying to make their way down my leggings. I just lay there and pretended to sleep some more till he'd finish. He's one of my best friends, I saw him as my brother. Now I don't know.

I feel dirty. I won't eat until the reason behind this is gone. Bones are disgusting. Bones aren't beautiful. And that's why I need to be able to feel every single one.

Maybe if I can feel my bones, and I look as ugly as I feel, people won't pay me attention like that anymore.

I don't want to play flirty games anymore. I'd never even flirted with him before. I just don't see him like that. I haven't told Jacob. Only Jess knows. And now you.

I feel hollow.

:/

Lost another follower. Every time I lose one kind of seems to affect me more than the time before, and I don't know why.

I remember the beginning of this blog. I remember being all preppy and OMG LET'S LOSE WEIGHT AND THIN THIN AND WOO ANA RULES. But now I despise it all. 

I wish I'd never started playing this stupid game.

We Came, We Saw, We Killed The Crowd

Everything is toomuchtoomuchtoomuch. I cannot be worth the happiness Jacob makes me feel, I simply cannot. I cannot deserve the smile that creeps to my face those rare occasions when I feel that I may look okay today. Because quite simply, I don't deserve any of it.

Initimacy with Jacob last night and I just couldn't go through with it. Ex boyfriend had called me beforehand for a general conversation, which escalated into jokes about when we were together. Friday would have been our year anniversary, yet I don't regret being with Jacob. At least, I don't think that I do. Why did he have to call and stir everything up? Jacob is the first person that I've ever been with who accepts me for everything, the whole lot. He's the first person that I can actually envisage myself being with for an extrordinarily long time. I think I'll still love him when we're old. Call it dramatic teenage musings, but when I'm with Jacob the voices aren't so loud. It's as if they're subdued. And this makes me happy. Not amazingly happy, not happy for a length of time. But for that moment at least, I don't have to worry about a thing. And I miss that.

Sometimes I wish everything would go absolutely quiet. Just dark and bliss. Do any of you ever feel like this?

Hunger is my rush... I'll never be small enough.

I'm an addict, up front and proper. Sometimes I wonder why do we bother with the pain when the gain, and the pain when we've lost. I don't understand this sickening game, yet I'm a pawn on the chessboard, I'm a prop on the stage - There's no point in trying, I've managed to guage that I won't make it to the end. So we've made our beds, let us lie in them they say. But they don't know how to make the sickness of dying go away.

***

My boss at the petshop won't stop calling me fat, and I'm always painfully aware of the slight bulge of my skin when I'm wearing my tight miniskirt, or the chafing of my thighs when I walk in heels. Often I just wish all of it could go away. I found a razorblade in a draw last night, in my room. I haven't gotten rid of it. It's right there, on the side, calling to me to spill my blood. But I can't. Because I remember how good it is, and I remember not wanting to stop. And I remember bloodstained sheets, and having cut too deep. And I remember my sister's face. And I remember the sunken look in my mum's eyes. So see, I can't do it again. But why can't I get rid of it?

I feel hungry. I haven't eaten since yesterday lunchtime, and I want to keep feeling hungry. I'd forgotten how good it was, how much of a buzz it was. I'd almost forgotten the strength in feeling weak. I've been called, and I've returned. And it scares me to shit.

***

On a lighter note, me and Jacob were discussing sex, and he ever so casually mentionned that I should try trimming. Apparently it feels nicer. I'm sorry, is my vag too hairy for you? ;D

I'll sort it at some point. But first I NEED TO RECLAIM MY SCALES. It shall be a mission, a mission with James Bond music in my head, and people coming at me from everywhere, and I valiantly battling through it all! Though in reality, I'll prolly just walk into the bathroom and pick them up, then put them in my bag and go home.

Sigh, I really do love being all dramatic. Though I also love being small. It seems the world doesn't particularly want me to be either of these things, eh?

How are you my darlings? What're your plans for today?

This Is What It Has Come To.

I've had to wait to find another suitable computer, because the ones at school don't let me use blogger anymore ): Jacob's in the shower, so I'm blogging till then.


I feel disgusting. Jacob and I just got pretty intimate, and I had to stop him from lifting me against the wardrobe. I'm too heavy. It's all started again; the restriction, the counting, the worrying. The flaunting. I wear tight clothes so that I know how much more progress I need to make. I wear tight clothes so that maybe, just maybe, someone will comment, or look, and I'll feel pretty. 


Jacob tells me I'm pretty sometimes. It's lovely. I just feel like a bitch cause it's never enough. Once, just once I'd like him to tell me I'm beautiful. Maybe I won't even have to prompt him. Cause everyone wants to be told they're beautiful, but most of all, they want to think that the person means it.


Everyday is Elephant Day now. Y'know those days when you walk around and all you can feel is big? Big thighs, big stomach, you can feel them all. Well I've been thinking - from now on, every meal will be breakfast. And I have to ask myself whether or not I really want to break the fast. This'll start tomorrow at college, cause Jacob's mum won't let me leave without eating something.


Please let me know you all are okay? I have skype, and my username is hazelbeanyeah. Feel free to add me so that I know how you all are <3

Flirting, Parties, Mosh Pits, Zutes and Booze.

I went to see Avenged Sevenfold, Stone Sour and Hell Yeah yesterday at Hammersmith Apollo, and it was absolutely amazing! I went into my first ever MoshPit and here's the outcome xD:


1x knocked to the floor
1x landed on whilst on floor
1x bled on by some randomer
1x headbutted
3x punched in the face
COUNTLESS TIMES DESTROYING THE SHIT OUT OF MEN SIX TIMES MY SIZE.


It. Was. Amazing.


Partied afterwards, as I have been for the past few nights.


The voices came back again. Taunting what I eat. Questioning why I eat it. Talking about me, right in front of me.


Funny thing is, I don't think it was the weed. I flirted and made eyes at and danced with many people, just to drown out the noise in my head.


I miss things being easy. I hate living by myself. But I know that I can never go back.

WHY HAS IT BEEN SUCH A FUCKING LONG TIME?

It's been a disgusting amount of time since I last posted, and this is due to the fact that my laptop is well and truly dead. Black screen of death, plus a cursor. Would anyone like to fix my laptop for me?


My father. Two words that just sent so many conflicting emotions through my mind. I saw him today when I went to my mum's house to see my sister, and he just walked through the door. Says he'll take me out to dinner tomorrow. Gives me £100. I didn't want to take the money, I don't want to be bought off. I don't want to be the money grabbing daughter that copes just fine with having money thrown at in turn for not kicking up a fuss about his lifestyle. But I need the money to pay my rent, so this is what I must be for now. Fat, hypocritical money grabber. 


I'm large. Very large. All I feel is fat dripping everywhere, things jiggling as I walk. As I lay. As I breathe. I even hoped I might be pregnant, just to explain my fat swollen belly and belated period. But no. I am fat, and this is all. 


I don't understand the utter despising, self-loathing state of mind which I seem to have slipped in to. Though maybe I never slipped in to it, maybe it was always there, like a tumour. But now it's like a full blown cancer.


I think I'd rather have cancer. I'll probably go to hell for that. Though I don't think there is a hell - if there is, we're living in it.

Dad: Strike 27. You're out.

Guess who once again made the mistake of allowing herself to get attached to her father? I did. I spoke to him again the day before yesterday, and Jacob kept warning me not to let myself get hurt again. Made me promise I wouldn't.

Last night my dad called me and informed me that I would be living with my grandparents by the end of the week. Like fuck I am. And he also threatened Jacob, then telling me he liked him because he stood up to him. He promised he'd take me out to dinner tonight. But now his phone isn't connecting. That means he's smashed the handset and broken the sim.

I hate having a coke head for a father.

I have headlice and I want a cigarette and my laptop is completely fucked up and I can never do anything right.

Today I am angry. I am an angry snake, ready to lash out at anything that gets too close. I have spent the day crying, because everything is just too hard.

I have run out of clean clothes for college, and today was confined to the 6^th form room because my dress was an inch too short. The other girls wear shorter clothes than me. The other girls have many many clothes which they can wear. But I am punished, because I deserve it. I am punished because I do not have enough clothes, and because I cannot afford detergent to wash my clothes, and because even if I did have detergent I don’t know how to operate the washing machine in my new place.

This is horrible. And I just don’t want to do any of it. Hopefully today I will find out whether or not the council can pay my rent. If they can’t, then I suppose I’m screwed. I suppose I’m screwed either way – I don’t have enough money to pay for my retake exams. The money is due in tomorrow.

***

I used to be a delicate flower, but now my stem has been cut.

They used to call me a butterfly, but now I fly broken like a moth.

I once was a role model, the one to look up to, but now quite simply, I’m not.

I used to dread falling asleep, but now I dread waking up.

I Lost A Follower ):

I don't understand why I can't just do things right. Everything's great and Jacob is a fantastically supporting boyfriend, yet I still do everything so wrong wrong wrong. Everytime the subject of smoking is brought up he won't look at me. Everytime he won't look at me I feel dirty, disgusting, ugly. Of course I am all of these things, but sometimes it's just nice not to have to remember it.

Boys are becoming another game again. It's like everytime I talk to a guy, or meet a new guy, I have to make sure they fancy me. I have to make sure they think dirty things, think they have a chance, or fall in love with me. I did it with T, I did it with Lorenzo, I did it with Ex Boyfriend, I did it with Jacob. And everything is just one big game.

I need to get disgustingly pissed. Because at least when I'm drunk, nothing matters. Especially not the calories. I eat whatever I can get ahold of now, yet I still get told that I'm slimmer than I used to be. I eat and eat and eat. I try to ignore the screaming in my mind, the screaming that's outside of my mind, the screaming that I know people would be doing if they knew what a fat cunt I really am. And what a bitch I am. And how worthless they should have realised much earlier that I am. 

I shouldn't be this good at fooling people. But if I have to be, then I should at least not have a conscience. Because this is just too difficult.

Ahem.

My tongue has a big thick silver bar through it. Aye, my tongue is pierced. Which is odd cause I've always hated the idea of tongue piercings, but hey!

I can't help feeling just that litle bit empty. I might just have to give up soon.

Doesn'tGiveAFuckNess

Well I pretty much established that Ronald doesn't give a fuck what I'm looking at on Blogger, so therefore I have established a "Doesn't-Give-A-Fuck-Ness" about screening the computer when I'm on this (: 


I'll be moving into my own place by the end of this week [well I say "own place", but in actuality I'm paying £75 a week to have my own pretty epic room and almost complete usage of the rest of the tree-story house], and I shall explain how now; on Monday night I was admitted to the psychiatry unit at A&E, which my bitch of a mother obviously didn't take too well turning up at 2230. It's cool tho, I'd only been there since 1800 y'know? Long story short, they did fuck all, sent me home, and the next day I grew enough bollocks to tell her I was leaving.


I won't lie, my elated mood is prolly due to the random change of surroundings - GIRLS I WILL BE BACK TO MY EMO-LIKE ANALYTICS OF MY CLINICAL DEPRESSION IN NO  TIME ;D




I kid - though I have been doing some epic research having found my old diary and such, and I found an old post which may interest y'all. It fucking tore me to shit at the time, and if this hadn't made me see I really wasn't normal, then I don't know what would have.


"You mustn't sleep because the nightmares will get you. You see them whenever they close your eyes. Some people are silly, and they say that it's okay, they say that you should talk about your nightmares because that will make them less real. But they're either lying or they haven't got a clue.


Sometimes when you close your eyes you see your sister being raped, sometimes you see your mum dying. A lot of the time you see your dad doing all the things he used to do. And the thing is, it's your fault. It's all your fault, the dreams. Even when your dad has been doing these things in real life, you know it's your fault really. Why couldn't you be perfect enough? Because you're weak, that's why.


All anyone has to do is look at you and they'll realise. It's in your eyes. You're never going to be anything. You'll never be anyone."


Reality is a bitch, ladies and gentlemen.

YOYOYOMOFOHOMO.

Things are fucking being sorted at last! I feel happier now which is an epic (: 


Speaking of epic, did anybody watch Rudetube earlier on tonight? It was on at 2200 UK time. LOLs much.


Okies, I still hasn't gone my own internet laptop shiz, but I get my own home thing soonish - SHALL EXPLAIN MORE LATER! And when I do, I promise I will catch up on as many blogs as possible. Easiest way to do this is to drop me a comment, then I can link to your blogs istantly, whether I'm following them yet or not <3


I love y'all, just thanks for being there for me. If I don't do the same for you, feel free to track me down and bitchslap me (:

Gahdrizzle.

Okies a lotta shit has been happening, and long story short I've kinda moved out. But yeahh :D


Shall update later, and sorry I can't check out your blogs atm, let me know if anything happens <3

Diary.

I found an old diary that I used for a couple of months, back when all of this was just a game. I used to love playing the game, figuring out ways to trick people out, to get away with eating as little as possible. Though even then I was pro at making myself feel as shite as possible.

I've started writing in that diary again, just so that I can begin to try to make sense of this all. And I've got an idea about what to do with it when I'm finished too. A couple of months back, when I went up to Falmouth to visit Jess, I left a piece of paper with a secret on it and the URL to my blog on a door in a toilet; I think I might continue doing this, at random places all over the country. Perhaps leaving small packages too. And when my diary is filled, I'm going to leave that somewhere too. With any luck, one of y'all will find it.

I've skipped college again today, I know I shouldn't because my attendance is around 30-40%, but I just can't face it today. At least I know my doctor appointment is at half 5 today. I keep trying to convince myself that this is a good thing.

BEEFEATER ZOMFG!

Okay, Beefeater is basically like a gastro-pub, for those of you who were confused by my last pub. It's like Harvester or Steakhouse. It's pretty damn epic too ^.^

It was a pretty cool night, and I whilst I may be slightly kicking myself for my intake, I don't entirely regret it. I also stayed up late last night with my mum; we are the cool people who watch X Factor at 1am, because we were too busy earlier on in the day. EPIC.

I don't feel as peppy as yesterday, but I'm trying hard to come across that way. People told me they miss the old me; only thing is, that I don't remember who I made her to be.

If you could have your ideal personality, what would it be? And remember that this isn't about looks - this about your inner beauty.

It Was A Good Day (:

Today was a pretty decent day; the petshop took around £900, and I got a payrise. My boss commented on me being fat, and not looking as if I threw up, but hey. He's a bit of a knob at times anyhow!

I'm on my way out now to Beefeater, and I'm not feeling too nervous about it! I don't know what it is about today, but I feel so damn hyperactive, which I take as amazing considering the major anxiety I've had over the last month or so ^.^

How did your days go today lovelies? <3

Off To Work

Aye, I'm off to work now.

Last night I was nearly in tears because I heard some rumours that had gone around about me. That I go from guy to guy, sleeping with anyone and everyone. That I don't, and never will care.

I'm going to pretend to be happy today.

New Me.

1

2

As of this coming Thursday, I will be the new me. My hair is being cut and dyed bright red, though I need help deciding on the cut. I will get some new piercings, and I will put pictures up in my room. I'm going to be the showstopper.

So tell me which hairstyle you think is best - they're numbered.

3

4

5

6

Octoberwish.

I'm going to follow suit, and make an Octoberwish. But it won't be wishful thinking. I'm going to make damn sure it comes true.

By October 31st, I will be 129lbs. I will look good in a catsuit.

What're your wishes?

*Hazel you can eat, because you remember how to throw up now...*

I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself.I will not weigh myself. I will not weigh myself.

If I weigh myself, I will fall again.

I'm so dangerously close to the edge. I'm tired of it all.

Oh.

I went over 100calories.

By half a pork pie, and a plate of vegetable stir fry.

I threw up in my room.

It's starting again, isn't it?

Today Is One Hundred And It's Hard.

I've been doing well, my weight is dropping real quick. I'm now 132lbs. Today is the 100 calorie day and it's proving to be very difficult. Extremely so.

I've had a 45 calorie energy drink, and half a piece of bread with some hot sauce, which was also 40 calories. So I have 15 calories left... But you can't eat much for that. I don't have any cucumber left either, so that's out the window.

I'm tired, of everything. This is just too difficult.

300 today.

ABC is kind of hard, but I remembered why it's worth it. Two days and I've lost 2lbs. But for some damn reason it doesn't seem like it's enough.

Sometimes I think it would be epic if everyone could see inside their own brains, because at least then maybe we could actually understand what the fuck is going on.

I miss the amount of people that have disappeared on Blogger. Selfish I know, because them leaving could mean positive things for them. But I still miss them.

So tell me my darlings, what're the plans for today?

ABC.

I started ABC yesterday. Ofc that involved weighing myself. 136lbs. Fuck my life.

At least I've had not problem sticking to the 500 calorie limit yesterday and today. 

I hope I can pull off 300 tomorrow. I've decided that for every day I go over, I have to fast the next day. And that just adds extra days onto the 40 that I intend on doing.

Focusing on these calories make it slightly easier to avoid panic attacks when I have to leave the house. And I even managed to shower and wash my hair this morning. Result.

Don't lie. You can't carry on, this isn't being strong and you know it.

You can't be more. You're being less, feeling less, wanting to do less. A lost cause.

It's not glamorous. You can't look like that.

She doesn't even look like that. It's a world of lies. A hall of mirrors. It's wrong.

You've grown up before your time. Don't die before your clock runs out.

But you will be that person again. You are still that person. You will always be that person.

It's because you won't break away.

No - you'll only forget yourself.

Mind numbing, belly aching, comatose state of mind.

I'm here.

I think you're pretty. More than pretty. You're beautiful. Smart. Intelligent. Don't throw it away.

You're ill, that doesn't make you bad. Don't feel guilty. Be happy that the help is there.

You're the best you that you can be, and I want to help you.

Stop. I will be here. I will carry you through.

You don't let yourself feel enough.

You can do anything. Believe it.

Everyone is going to hurt you. You just have to find the person that's worth suffering for.

Hazel is Good at Hiding.

I don't leave my house anymore, I can't. If I leave my house something will get me, something will hurt me, bad things will happen. I can't remember the last time I could smile without wanting to cry.

I haven't showered or washed my hair for perhaps over a week now. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I don't have energy to do anything anymore. I've been eating - it's the only thing I can do. I don't hate myself for it.

I just wonder, if this is all there is to life, then why should I go on?

Boy I've missed a shitload of college work. I know I should be doing coursework, and seeing friends, and going to work. But I've fallen behind on coursework, I seldom speak to anyone anymore, and I've quit one of my jobs.

I'm just tired, all the time. I forget too. Sometimes I may wake up, and things will just go black. And before I can even make sense of anything, it's the evening and time for me to go to bed. I sleep a lot now. But it doesn't matter how much I sleep - I'm always tired.

We always said that numb was the worst feeling. Now I don't think it is. The worst feeling is blind indifference. That's all I feel now.

All This Time You Were Pretending.

I had a big argument with my mum last night, I thought she was going to kick me out. She's letting him back into the house again. He's coming back from Cyprus, and he's coming to the house. I don't know what to do in all honesty. I'm just empty. I don't feel hungry, empty, energetic, happy. It's like I'm devoid of everything but tiredness. There's no point to anything, never has been and never will be.

Get out of this now - don't become trapped by this stupid game. You all can get out of this, you can find a door and a way out. Whilst you still can, do it. Because trapped is a feeling that comes quickly and easily.

Numb.

I used to write this blog every day, now I'm lucky if it's once a week. I'm in a darker place now. I'd like to know how you all are, because I've been pretty shit at maintaining my contact with y'all - for that, I'm sorry.

I'd been eating like a normal person since around my birthday time, but all of that became undone today. It's 10 months since Prince. I've eaten 700 calories today and it's just too much. Just too much.

Back to restriction, back to the gym, back to shutting everybody out. It seems that that's all I've ever known.

Failure.

Breathe in and feel the emptiness expand - but it isn't emptiness, is it? Because you keep messing up. The pills aren't working because, somewhere along the line, you're doing too much.

There's so much on my mind and I don't know where to start. I was worried the pill had failed first time (and only) time I've slept with Jacob, but I had a period so that was fine right? Well the period was 1 and a half days of lightness. No problem, my periods are generally light. But now I'm retaining weight. Now my boobs are sore, nipples are darker, and mood swings greater.

I'm really worried. I'm not so sure what to do.

Writing Pictures.

None of us do. We're worth more.

It's okay to want to tell someone sometimes. It's okay to need help.

We're all innocent underneath all of this. Innocent people who have witnessed far too much.

Why do we fear being seen at our worst?

But it's impossible to run away from it. Who I was is who I still am; I hate it.

It's hard to understand what's real and what's not, when all of these voices crash around and around in my head.

At least, you'll forget me. I'll always be here, you just won't want me anymore.

Just can't. I can't fix everything that I've ever known to be true.

Explains it all really.

Everytime I feel my stomach ache, or my head just freeze with dizziness, I know I'm feeling something. I know I'm still here. But one day this'll go too far. One day I may just not be here anymore.

No I can't.

So whatever the fuck happens, just have it in the back of your mind. And please God - stop searching for something you already have. You're all fucking beautiful, inside and out. Don't die for something that you already have; don't die for something that isn't worth having.