and then.

24 minutes ago 1: 58 am 25 March 2011

23166) I eat normally, most of the time, I act normally, most of the time, and I sleep normally, most of the time. But then there are the times when I eat food I almost throw up and sometimes I do. When I sit in my room or in bed at night and just cry and cry and get up and pace around the house silently. When I don’t sleep at all because when I lie down to sleep I think. And when I think things get dangerous.

61 notes

36 minutes ago 1: 46 am 25 March 2011

23164) I don’t do this for my parents. Or the boy that catches my eye. Or even for someone just to notice me. I do this for myself. So that if even for a second, I can feel something else. When my stomach is hard and empty, and my legs are shaking, and arms trembling, that’s when I almost feel pretty. And that’s the closest thing to happiness I know.

70 notes

42 minutes ago 1: 40 am 25 March 2011

23163) For the last 3 and a half years my life has been one self destructive cycle. I starve until I can barely walk, then eat everything I can fit into my stomach and force it all out, then exercise until i feel like I’m going to faint. I wouldn’t call it living, but it’s become my way of life. My escape from reality. From all the hurt and confusion. No one cares. No one understands. Every comment they make. Things that they do and and don’t do. I can relate them all right back to me. My mind twists everything into hateful thoughts. I just want to feel something besides pain. And if even for a second, after starving for so many days, or exercising for so many hours, I feel something different, I feel empty, that’s how I know it’s all worth it. Emptiness. Beauty. It’s what I’m killing myself for.

20 notes

2 hours ago 12: 18 am 25 March 2011

23149) I used to have a beautiful singing voice. Then my throat got destroyed from having bulimia and I’ll never be able to sing like how I used to. This makes me want to die.

11 notes