What's the matter with you?
         - Nothing.

Nothing slowly clotting my arteries. Nothing slowly numbing my soul. Caught by nothing, saying nothing, nothingness becomes me. When I am nothing they will say, surprised, in the way that they are forever surprised, "But there was nothing the matter with her."


Mind-Puke in the evening. Enjoy.

Waking up in the morning gets harder every day. First thing to do: Feel your bones. Are they still there? Are they still standing out? They do? Fine. Next step: The way to the scale. It feels like my everyday walk to my own execution. Was I good enough? I knew I could have purged more, fuck. I know it. I hate that there is lunch with everyone, together, at one table. There is no way out. And now I will see all my bad behavior in just a number. Let me die. I don't want to see it. I don't. I have to because the number decides on what will happen today, on how I'll feel today. Lost some weight? Fine. Good girl. Put on weight? You know what that means? No food at all, you have to get around lunch today. More sport today, more work. Do it! You know you have to get rid of all this fat. You have to. This is part one of my day. 
But there is still part two and it goes like this:
This is what you call good work? This is kinda good enough, you sayin'? I don't think so. You will never be able to do it right. What about if you just decide to jump off that bridge tonight? That bridge where you always stop during your inline skating tour. I know how often you thought about just letting go. Sitting on the guard rail, now just spread your arms. You can fly, finally! Go for it.
CUT. Next scene. 
Have you ever thought about that there is no one how really cares? No one? Nobody sees you, you're invisible! Invisible even to your mom. She will never see you, she will never see who you really are. You have to make her notice you. And you know how this works, right? Lose your fucking weight. Lose all the fat on your body, get skinny. She will see you! She will finally notice you! It will be too late then maybe, but wasn't it worth it? I think so.
CUT. Next scene.
Thinking of the future, will it get better? I am so afraid, all these fears in my head. When they start to get in my head at night, it feels like dying. Starting to cry, hysterically. Paranoia. They will come and kill me. Loss of control. I don't want them to take over control. And I don't want these thoughts. I can fight them, I know I can... for now. But I know that they get stronger and that I get weaker every day. And one day they will be stronger than me. And then it will be over.
The day on which they get stronger than I am will be the day when I'll leave this cruel world.
Until then it's just waiting.


I'm just in love.

In love with Gossip Girl.
I always thought I'd hate it because... everybody loved it. But today I started to watch it and I'm totally into it. It was definitely worth my time.
Is anybody of you watching Gossip Girl?
Oh... And another thing: I LOVE Taylor Momsen as Jenny and I LOVE Blairs styling, just sayin'.



I feel it when they talk behind my back. I know that they talk about how fat I've become. Some of them know about my eating habits and they will say things like "Eeew, did you know she's anorexic? She doesn't even look like one." "She is so fat, how could she possibly ever have an eating disorder?" "She just eats normal, I think she wants attention. She's such a whore." I can feel them saying it, I can hear them saying it and I can feel their looks all over me.

And they are right. I am fat. Disgustingly fat.


I just want it to end.

I wish I could go back to a normal life. A life where you're in school, where you complain about too much homework. A life where you meet your friends after school, go shopping, have fun. A life where you have to learn for tests, you hate it but you do it anyways because you want to achieve something in school, in life.
I wish I would be at that point. All I do right now is work, eat and purge. There is nothing else in my life. I've got no friends because all I do is work. I eat all day, I am as fat as a person can be and I really mean it. I am fat and I get fatter every day. And I purge. I purge so much, it disgusts myself.
I needwanthave to die. 

And the fact is...

... I am oh so done.
... I am tired of feeling.
... I am tired of breathing.
... I am tired of trying so hard. 
... I am just simply tired of living.
... And I am tired of loving.

I am just fucking tired of this whole fucking shit life. Let me die tonight. Please!

Maybe the only thing I am good at is destroying myself.

From the outside looking in, you can't understand it.
From the inside looking out, you can't explain it.

Everyday life.



I made a survey! You can see it on the sidebar.
Please vote, I would be really happy to get as many answers as possible.

What would you think of a mutual blog presentation? Anyone interested?

So how was your day so far? I have the feeling like nobody's really reading my blog, is there anyone?


Until you can't breathe no more.

I know I can't be back at 5 by tomorrow. I feel like crying all day and all night.
This is slowly killing me. But I don't care as long as it will finally happen!
My feelings of today summed up in one picture:

Back to 6. Brb dying!

I hate that I always feel the need to do something for other people. Eat for them is the worst one. I hate that I always feel like I need to eat in front of my mum. She's always so happy when we have dinner together. We usually don't see each other during the week but when she's here on friday, she loves when we go to BurgerKing or something like these fast food things because that is the only time we spend together while I am working.
Mostly I am working seven days a week, but sometimes I have a "free weekend" where I come home. But when I don't, she comes to visit me and cause there aren't really any restaurants here, we always go to BurgerKing. I hate it, I hate it so much, I feel like the most disgusting person ever after eating there. But when I look at her, I feel like I have to do it. She is so happy when she sees me eat. She looks so happy. I don't want to disappoint her, this is why I'm eating this disgusting shit.
And this is why I am back to that gross number 6.
I am feeling like a pig, like a whale. Today is a weak day. I hate them. Yesterdays' dinner with mum made me weak. I have to be strong, I have to keep going, I have to go back to number 5!!!!!
I am such a disgusting bitch!


Loosing and loosing and loosing.

I'm loosing quite a lot at the moment.
I am loosing a lot of friends, people I really need in my life. I am loosing my strength to fight. And I am also loosing my strength to work. My doctor diagnosed an extreme anemia so working is quite hard for me currently. Getting up in the morning is not the hardest thing anymore, getting through the day without breaking down is even harder. Breaking down because my body isn't working right anymore or breaking down in tears. That's the question that leads me through the day. Will I make it without breaking down in any of these ways? I am also loosing a lot of weight, for me it is easier to compensate my fears, doubts and weaknesses with loosing weight than with self-harm. I mean, it's both quite easy and it's hard to work with both, too. But I am disappointing less people when I only loose weight. So here I go. My friend- number 5 - he is back. And I am really happy, it really makes me smile when I step on the scale and I see the numbers drop. I love it, it feels like a drug, my drug.
And it helps me getting over him. I miss him and I hate that it is so hard to finally talk about it, to solve the problem between us. I wish it would be like it used to be. I wish I could tell him. I wish I could. I wish I would.

I am feeling so numb at the moment. The only thing I really feel are my bones. They are the only thing that makes me feel something. There is nothing else. No feelings and I don't know how much longer I can survive without feeling a thing. I don't know how much longer I can survive with all this hate inside me, hate against myself. I don't know.


I'm not me anymore.

I'm the bruises on my legs, the bumps in my spine. I'm the ribs in my chest and the hips poking out. Despite all this, I am the fat on my stomach and the numbers on the scale; the fleshy skin on my arms and thighs that beg me to slice. Who am I? I'm the pathetic little girl who cannot fight the demon in her head.

Or maybe, just maybe, the demon is me.