005

Can't sleep, can't even fucking breathe. I'm suffocating in this room. I'm scared so I'm sleeping with my mom again. She snores like a fucking asthmatic bear and it annoys the shit out of me. Sometimes I kick her so she stops. I know it's shitty. She'd never kick me. This room is too hot and my stomach keep churning. I ate a lot of chocolate, drank sugary juice. I feel like a failure, even though I only ate around 1000 calories today. I'm fat and disgusting. I don't want to feel. I'm tempted to get up and smoke a bowl, but she would know. When she woke up and found I was missing, she'd know. I wish juice had no calories. I love juice. I've binged on juice, if that's even possible. Downed three new jugs of it in a sitting. I'm so thirtsy. My tongue is burnt and my mouth is dry. I'm sitting at an awkward angle because I don't want my mom to see this in case she wakes up. If I lay down I can't breathe, so this is as good as its going to get.

Sometimes when I sit by myself and look at before and after pictures, or hear about houw that slut Sarah is getting SO skinny, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. I want this more than anything in my life, and yet I can't manage to get down to even 120 pounds. I give in to everything, I have no limits. My mom's cough sounds like shit. I can't stand to listen to it. I want to die. Her cough pisses me off and I just want to hit her. I want to slap her and beg her to stop. I want to make her fucking stop. It makes me want to fucking rip my ears off or sew her mouth shut. I have so much anger inside of me. I don't know what to do with it. The only way I'm remotly tolerable is if I'm starving, when I have no engery to feel anything but sadness. Remorse, for the way I turned out. Regret that I ever let myself get to this point. Dread in my heart, because I know that I will never reach my goal. Ever. I've tried too hard for too long, failed to many times. Gotten no where. No matter what I do, how many plans I make, how much I obsess of exercise, or starve, I will never get there. I can't. I just can't do it. I will die a fat cow. I will be this way forever. I will never find love, or happiness, or comfort. I will never smile and be genuinly happy. I cannot be genuinly happy unless I am thin. I want to be nothing. I can't stand feeling my fat rub between my thighs, can't stand tugging on jeans with so much effort, can't handle looking so ugly anymore. I need to change, but I'm so lost and confused that I don't know how. I don't know what to do. I'm a compulsive over-eater that yearns to weigh nothing. How will this ever work? How? I can plan and plan all I want, but nothing helps. I always fuck up. I can't control myself. I lose my head when the cravings come. I can't do it. I can't. But I have to, or I can't live. I must.

And so tomorrow I will keep trying. I will fast (attempt) once more, starving to lose just one more pound, to be one inch closer to my goal. It will take a long time, but I know that it will all be worth it, when I can actually smile again. When I can feel again.

It's three in the morning right now, and I still can't sleep. Insomnia is a bitch. I'm not even tired, but I want to sleep. I really want to write some fanfiction, but I have no inspiration. Nothing. The veins in my hand are tight and sticking out. It doesn't feel to great. I FEEL FUCKING SICK. I wish I could just die.