This isn't fair, on me or on him, its not fair.
He cant be my reason for not giving up, he cant be my safety net, my saviour.

I lie in bed beside him, hungry, weak and hopeful. I turn my back to ana, and turn into him, cling to his warmth and tell myself its all going to be OK because this man is going to save me.

I cant save myself, i don't want to, but i want him to. I dream about it, about him saving me from this existence, rescuing me and bringing me out of this nightmare into the world.

Am i worth saving?

Who can i live for if not for myself?

Ive got this boyfriend, I found him, flirted with him, screwed him, kissed him, wanted him, had him, liked him, loved him, but now, now i need him.
Hes amazing, new, energetic and passionate, he consumes my thoughts, dominates my dreams, meets all my needs, hes become everything.

Sometimes i catch him looking at me, a tender expression on his face, and that need, that desire in his eyes, and it knocks me off my feet every time. Hes become my drug of choice, my high, my bliss. His love is so powerful it fills me up and leaves no room for my demons, he calms me, empowers and pleases me, hes a gift, hes everything.

But like all drugs, they leave you wanting more, they satisfy you once you get your hit, but once you get your fix your hooked, and without a continuous supply your in trouble, bring on the detox, the withdrawls.

With him i see life in colours, vivid plush purples, passionate pinks and sensational shades of orange, yellow and red, warm colours washing over the world in sensual hues. Without him life is grey, flat, lacking depth and reality. Its black and white, cold and mindane, totally lacking in all that i love, all that i need. When hes gone i get so depressed, i get so grey and 2 demensional that i find it difficult to even believe that im alive. I imagine im frozen, paused, waiting simply for his return so that i can once again breath and grow.

I grow towards him, but alone, alone i starve, alone i regress away from all the things hes taught me to love. Like a child who throws a tantrum when their parents leave, i throw my toys out of the cot. Maybe on an emotional, irrational level i believe that if i fail to thrieve in his absence, maybe hell stay with me. Emotional sustinance, feeding my soul with love, nurishing me with his presence.

But eventually everyone leaves, and eventually starvation has only one gaurenteed conclusion.

Ohhhh im still missing something

I want to hurt myself.
I want to wear my pain, display it, flaunt it, match it to my shoes or nail polish.
I want to give it form, shape, presence.
I want to allow it to gain a dimension other than its current form.
I want to see it, i want to ignore it, i want to hide it, bandage it, sooth it, worry about it, claim it.
I want to bleed.

I don't self harm anymore. I don't.

But i want to.

Bleed, bite, burn... brand.
Button my suffering, tie it up.
Bleed all over my perfectly kept house. Make a mess and clean it up.

I want to feel the relief of finally, eventually, failing. Because it was always going to happen, its inevitability is no longer in doubt. And once its done, i can finally give up this charade of normality, throw in the towel on pretense, and accept the utter misery of my life.

Maybe then i can try and get over it.

Today has been a strange day food wise. Ive eaten a lot of ruby grapefruit, which i seem to be developing quite an appreciation for. Im drinking tea, taking my vitamins, and wondering why it seems so difficult at times, because today, my diet is the least of my troubles!

I'm going away for the night with my boyfriend, to a cute, expensive hotel, it should be wonderful, so why am i freaking out?

Ive packed and unpacked twice, Ive changed my clothes three times (and counting), and now hes gonna pull up outside any minute and I'm on the verge of a hysterical tantrum because i feel too fat to get in the car and spend a romantic weekend with this guy who thinks I'm everything that I'm not. Somehow Ive fooled him into thinking that I'm a normal, functional human being, where in truth I'm one low fat cracker away from a total melt down.

Panicking now. Pacing. Praying even. How am i gonna get threw this?

I'm aware of my area, the amount of space I'm occupying, volume, measurements, inches, pounds, ounces, maths? I'm counting, continuously and methodically, adding, balancing, and i cant do this if I'm with him, in a different environment...

room service
alcohol
lunch
dinner
breakfast

and no way out. I cant do this. I'm either going to seem like a total idiot, or become an emotional wreck, a tear-streaked, fat mess.

What is hunger?

This morning i slept in, slept threw my two morning classes, slept threw my alarm, slept threw my cat dancing on my back, slept threw my family all waking up and moving around the house, slept threw it all. I guess I'm just exhausted, because its not like me to fall into a coma, usually i wake regularly during the night, ill smoke out my window, walk around my house or comb the cat. But i do feel better now, having come around from twelve hours of blissful unconsciousness.

I want to talk a bit about hunger, because its something that occupies most of my waking thoughts. Everything i do is driven by a hunger, hunger for something undefined, something illusive something that in a lifetime of craving it, I've never gotten close enough to it to get any satisfaction.

Its the truth behind the anxiety, the binges, the restriction and the hollowness that craves comfort. Its the root of the depressive episode, the insomnia and the pain. Its the reason why food is tasteless, why i can never live in the now (because the next thing that happens will be better), its why i never feel full, complete, like a whole person.

Hunger is everything when your strong, like a badge of honour it tells you that your succeeding, that your elite, that your above the rest of the world because you have will power and you are in total control. When you feel like that hunger is addictive, you breath it in and bath in its analgesic presence. It validates all that you are, and offers the promise of even more success.

However the opposite is also true. When your failing, eating, binging, when your out of control, hunger taunts you, knowing only too well that your too weak and pathetic to put up any serious defense against it. It owns you. It takes from you without remorse, forcing you to your knees and shattering your self worth as it decimates all the progress you've made.

Hunger, in either form, is constant. In a world where nothing is certain or guaranteed, hunger is all i can really depend on, and at times, i find it difficult to differentiate between any other physical feeling and that of hunger, because to me hunger takes on all shapes and forms, and elicits such a wide range of responses , it becomes everything.

why we do this?

I'm driven to share my pain with the world, to expose the despair and loss that leaves me exposed and naked to you all. Without that kind of disclosure what would it all be for? Please don't misunderstand me, I'm not depressed, not in the clinical sense, and i do enjoy my life (mostly.) I guess my point is that beneath the surface we are all tormented by our demons, and we can carry ourselves out into the world every day because we know that we do not suffer silently and alone (when we suffer). I have some great things in my life, wonderful people who add colour and depth to my existance. I have talents, like painting and cooking (ya cooking), that i like to think bring something new to others. We touch people, mark them, mould them, just by our coexistence, so its inevitable that the happiness of others translates into our lives.

On that point, my happiness is not something that i own. I refuse to take ownership of something so fragile and uncertain. But pain, pain is something bold and black, it has sharp edges and clean lines, and that is something i can relate to, something i can hold, hide, make up and make mine.

So getting back to my point, I find comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in this, i can be anywhere in the world and the chances are i will never be more than ten feet away from one of you. Someone who feeds on emptiness.

Last night i got very upset at the state id allowed myself to get into, emotionally that is. I was angry, seriously furious, but why and with who? Anger is a terrible emotion, and one i can never deal with, its redundant and destructive and completely illusive. It washes over me, wrapping me tightly up in its embrace, i breath it in, toxic and potent. I hold it in my lungs. I wonder, if i hold it in long enough will it all be absorbed? will i exhale anything other than carbon dioxide and nitrogen? Anger is all i am, i forget my past, my future, for i am consumed.

Was it ever easy?

I'm finding it very difficult to stay strong at the moment, and the one question that's at the root of all my anxiety is, was it ever as easy as i remember it to be? I'm looking back at my last (and best) relapse, and all i can remember are the positives. The weight was falling off me and i just skipped and danced threw life, or did i? It must have been difficult? I must have struggled with hunger and pain, i must have been cold, scared and emotional? I must have had all the physical and emotional problems associated with malnutrition? So why cant i remember any of that?
Today i woke up and after getting acquainted with the scales i sat in the kitchen and stared at the fridge. What was i going to do? Open it and eat, easily done. Walk away and fill my morning with anything that would stop my mind returning to the fridge? The answer here is neither of the above, its something that you all know, and its the reason why ana can so easily pull my strings and tie me up in knots. Life hurts. Every fu*king day, life hurts. Its painful, cruel and unjust. So instead of denying this, and embarking on futile quests for self-fulfilment and happy ever afters, we embrace the pain. After all if you no its going to hurt, and that that's the way its meant to be, your half way there.
So that's whats keeping me going. It hurts, but its ok because its suppost to.