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