Sigh...

I sat at lunch today, working on my outline. He was the one keeping the conversations going today-making everyone laugh, when he said it. He spoke of our secret. Everyone who sat there knew, everyone but him. The table went quiet as he continued to speak, going on as if there was nothing wrong. I could see the hurt in her eyes. I could feel the pain as he secretly accused her without even realizing it. I could feel the sorrow as sher turned her head away, letting her hair fall infront of her face. I wanted to slit his throat, he couldn't have even begin to imagine what he was doing. I had to do something, I couldn't stand to see her like that. "I don't think I'm going to remember any of this vocab." Was it obviouse that I was changing the subject? Did he notice that the others piped up about my question? Did we save her for another day?

I... I'm almost afraid to say what I've done, what I've started. I might as well say it though, its bound to come out sometime. I've been taking diet pills for the past week. Now you may be thinking, "Oh its just a pill once a day." Well its more then that, they urge to take 7 and 8 is tremendos(sp?). I want to wiegh less for formal; I've made a pact with another girl, who also has problems with her body, and we are going to get through this, together. Will I OD? Its a possibility. My boyfriend says I am beautiful just the way I am, but is it wrong for me to want to see myself as beautiful as he does? Because I don't. I don't even see myself as pretty. I am ugly. Its sad though, what a person will do to get what they want. I know I'm probbably hurting my body, I can feeling myself getting more and more tired each day. My nightmares getting more bloody and violent. I know what I am doing and yet I continue. I am ugly...on the inside. But! Lastweek I found something... A box...full of...my little monsters. I know where it is, how many bottles are in it, and what is in each bottle. I think of that box night and day, yet somehow I have managed to keep away from it. This inner battle is...so Hard. Most people think my life is soooo easy. If only they knew....

You know what I would like? To not be called a slut everyday.

I worry. I sin.

I wonder things. I ask things. I worry. I sin. Am I unlikeable? Do they have an excuse? Or have they just gotten tired of me and have decided I'm not worth their time? I want to know, to ask, but I'm scared of the truth. Maybe they don't care. I still have twitter, my letters, but... I worry. I sin. The constant "what if" goes through my mind. Should it matter? Should I care? I worry. I sin. Then I think, "Maybe they did, but it's anonymous." But why would it be public with the others and not with me? does it have to be a secret? Does it? I worry. I sin. Half of my anxiety attacks are brought on by worrying, I'm afraid it's partially my fault. I bring it on myself. Worrying is my Goliath. I worry. I sin.

Dreaming a nightmare

So lasnight I had...a very hellish dream. I dreamed I was cheating on my boyfriend. It was so wierd, I couldn't read his eyes when he had walked into that white-walled room. I only saw his face turn and twist into this tormented scowl. It frightens me. Scarred me. It's changing me. I'm afraid of myself and the hurt I could cause. I just want to be with him forever, and then I dream this? What kind of monster am I?

Do you know?

Do you know how much I want to break all my promises? Do you know how much I want to silence my little monsters, to see myself bleed so I know I'm alive and that this isn't some nightmare? More the you know... I do want it, those damn promises. I know they're there to protect me, but all I want is for this pain to stop. I just want to be whole again...

Anxiety

My chest feels like it's being torn apart. My anxiety attacks are getting worse and worse. I want to tear myself to pieces, then give everyone a piece of me so I won't spread myself any thinner. I can't make everyone happy, so I pull back- secluding myself and my thoughts. But even that is not safe, for my little monsters torment me.

"Go ahead and do it, you won't be in pain. No one will notice."

Those damn little monsters.

I wish you knew

I wish you could know how you make me feel when you fight. I wish you hurt like I did when everyone is yelling. I wish you knew what it felt like to cry yourself to sleep, or to cry in the shower so no one can hear you scream. I wish you knew what it was like to want to hurt yourself to take the pain away. I wish you knew everything.