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.

Fuck the world.

Life becomes less about living and more about surviving. With these demons in my head, it still feels nearly impossible. They make every day of my life the worst nightmare I ever had. And the problem is you can't wake up and tell someone about it because they won't be able to tell you that it's just a dream. You have to keep going and if you tell someone, they won't understand. They might stare at you, some might be talking behind your back, some might be telling you that they can understand even if they never will be able to totally understand it. But they all will never ever be able to look at you the same way than before. Welcome, you are now officially a monster.

It's too late.

You tell me that you need me then you go and cut me down.
I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you.
And I need you like a heart needs a beat but that's nothing new.
I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue and you say sorry like an angel, heaven's not the same with you but I'm afraid it's too late to apologize.

I needed you and I will always need you.
And I know that when you're gone there will be nothing else to hold me anymore.
And there will be no one to save me anymore.

I am like the fox in Le Petite Prince.

Numbed thoughts. Lonely. Just hope - the rest is dead.

Pulsating temples - pumping. Disappointment through the soulbroken body.

Fearing and trembling that the thin ice might break - rooted, no movement - frozen.

Heart is fighting. Head is trailing off. Hours turn into days.

All blood is freezing in domestic warmth. 

There is no answer - breath keeps on pausing and listening - can't hear a word. 

Fingertips are shaking, the lovesick heart is sobbing quietly. 

Tears - salty - red-hot - burning the tender face.

Everything will be okay - won't it?

The courage, obeying the mind, is missing. Everything's other than volitional - 

Always the same roads - giving love to another - a broken heart is left.

There is nothing than a scream in the end.

You don't hear it - keep on walking away.

You don't turn around anymore.

Soft paws - a pride of coyotes - Fight! Cramp. Until you - can't fight no longer.

Missing.

Missing someone isn't about how long it has been since you've seen them or the amount of time since you've talked. It's about that very moment when you find yourself doing something and wishing they were right there by your side.

I love you two a lot and I can't wait to be with you again.