Oh my god...

I don't even fucking know what I'm doing anymore. My family, my grades, my friends, my sanity is falling apart and... things pop up in my head that make no sense and I don't know how they got there. They called me 'robot' today and I flipped shit. Is it because I was so close to typing, "robots don't bleed, wanna see my fucking scars?". Was it because I was so close to telling them... robots don't starve. Robots don't cry - I'm crying now.

I'm lying to EVERYONE and I feel like... a failure. I can't trust anyone, yet everyone trusts me.

Had a long talk with Dad tonight. Cried. It means I failed. Fuck, why can't I ever SUCCEED? I can't fight myself, I'm not fucking strong enough. My mind is constantly flipping - logic and pain. I can't even succeed as a friend - I'm being fucking hypocritical.

I almost purged today, I was standing over the bowl...

I am worthless. How do I know? What am I worth to anyone, to myself? NOTHING. Fucking hell, I'm not important at ALL to this musical (where all my friends are), my other friends survived, hell they got tighter while I wasn't there. No one needs me any more. No one cares. Why should they? Fat, average-grade person who can't even stand up to HERSELF.

I ate SO MUCH TODAY. I've always been a fucking fat kid and I'm SICK OF IT. EVERY POUND BRINGS ME DOWN. What do I say? Nothing too much is wrong, just I'm a failure to myself, everyone around me and the world? Wow, sounds fantastic, I look forward to that conversation.

I have no connection. No one fucking knows me. No one knows how close I've been or why I got there. I can't handle it. I'm WEAK. I need to be strong. Somehow I need to be... someone who is needed. So, I'll keep doing what I'm doing because being thin... hell, I know, even now, I know I'm not overweight. I know that. But I also know I'm not pretty. Or experianced. Or a big party person. Or blonde. Or that boys don't like me. Or that intelligent. Or creative. I am nothing and I need to be worth something.

I can't be pretty, but I can be thin.

I care only about what other people think of how I think of myself. And yet I can't bring myself to tell them. They don't know. I can't do this to them. I CAN'T fucking end up in hospital, or in clinic or on drugs or some fucking shit. I can't do that to them.

The sad thing is... when it gets bad... that's what I want.

My greatest wish is to get hit by a car... diagnosised with something... just to see how many people would come... how many people would miss me. Sounds selfish. It is and I fucking hate that. I'm so selfish.

I can't... We're going to a beach thing for this trip. I don't know how I'll hid the scars or the bones. I'm scared someone will find out and make me stop because it isn't about being worth something to myself, or about being thin and fitting in... it's all I have. I don't have...anything else other than work.

WORK MAKES ME A ROBOT.

I don't know how much I ate today. I am disgusted.

He called me a pill popper. He has no idea how true it is.

I don't want to die. But I don't want to stop. And, right now, the other mind is getting strong.

THIS IS DUMB. THIS IS STUPID. THIS IS DESTRUCTIVE. HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO THEM?!

THIS FEELS RIGHT. YOU ARE WORTHLESS. YOU WILL BE LOVED. HOW CAN'T YOU DO THIS FOR YOURSELF.