Hurt Him.

I want to hurt him.

Stab his life away.

So he will be gone.

But would he really?

He'd still be alive.

In my mind.

Emotionally Exhausted.

I feel like hell.

So emotionally exhausted.

Especially after what happened on friday.

Made me feel vulnerable.

Anxious and violated.

All over again.

I just want it all to stop.

It's making want to slice up.

Get all his evil out of me.

I want to get so drunk.

And so pilled up.

Just to forget for a while.

So I can feel relaxed.

With no bad thoughts.

Going round and round.

I want my mind to be free.

To have a break.

Freak Out.

Binged, purged.

High and drunk.

It ain't really surprising.

Not after yesterday.

After the freak out.

And the crying.

He has a hold over me.

A strong one.

Even after all these years.

Things needs fixing prompt.

Drastic times.

They call for drastic measure.

I can't sit back.

And not do anything.

Chopping Fat.

I wonder sometimes.

Is it really possible to recover fully.

From an eating disorder.

I feel like with everything else I can.

The cutting and overdosing.

I feel positive.

But with the bulimia, I can't stop it.

I've had messed up eating most my life.

In primary school I was skipping meals.

And had a terrible body image.

Bad enough at aged 8 to think seriously about chopping my fat off.

It breaks my heart.

Knowing I went through that and still am aged 20.

Having only got worse.

I should have been carefree and innocent.

Playing tag and dressing up dolls.

How many other young kids are on the path I ended up on.

Developing an eating disorder.

One that may kill them.

Without anyone noticing before its too late.

It's Constant.

Constant impulses.

Grinding teeth.

Tired eyes.

Restless feet.

Rippling Sensations.

Urges to cut.

Sensations rippling down my arms.

Calling at me.

To just make that first slit.

Not going to happen.

Sorry arms.

But I've done you enough damage.

It's time to heal, rejuvenate.

It's time to sedate.

Risks.

One more won't hurt.

Or will it.

That's what my brain keeps saying.

But yes it will.

Every last next one is a risk.

Don't want to unleash the crazy in me.

Or get any fatter either.

Scarred Pale Skin.

My uncovered skin is screaming at me.

Wanting me to take a blade to it.

Holding it down hard.

Slicing through my scarred pale skin.

Rivers of blood bursting out.

Like tears drops from the monster within.

Dripping red into ruby puddles.

The evil has been released.

And calm I am once again.

Screwed Up Sleep.

Screwed up sleep.

Oh once again.

Turned to xanax tonight.

To chill me out.

Hopefully make me drowsy.

So I can finally drop off.

Destroy Me More.

Why do you hate on me so much.

What have I done so very wrong.

All I've done is try to be there for her.

You all treat me like I'm some monster.

It destroys me more every time.

Just This Once.

Would it be okay?

If I were to get high.

You know, just this once.

So I can chill out.

I really need this.

Taken Over.

It has taken over again.

Bulimia, that's what.

I need to get a grip on this.

Be back in control.

And out of this hell.

Bane Of My Life.

Bulimia is the bane of my life.

Creeping up on me in moments of weakness.

Taking over my body and thoughts.

When will this end.

Diagnosis.

I'm glad someone else is on board.

With my feelings on my diagnosis of BPD.

My care coordinator that is.

She doesn't think I've got it either.

We both agree I've probably got PTSD.

Hoping to speak to my psych about it.

So I can get it changed.

And be free of the stigma.

Bulimic Urges.

Bulimic binge urges.

Can you please go, like now.

I know I will go crazy.

If I end up giving in.

I'm Quite Well.

Things have been going quite well.

No overdoses or cutting.

Zero police or trips to A&E.

Eating has been a bit shaky.

But that's nothing new.

Nightmares are the only issue.

Hoping my SW will help with that.