Please excuse any vapidity that may appear in the next. The next. For however long I need to talk about this, I suppose.
I'm not used to having everything together. The thought of talking openly, and under my own name, seems very alien to me. I haven't done so in a long time.
But I'm stalling. And now I'm freezing entirely. Launch in...
I haven't eaten yet today. I'll be going to bed in a few hours, so all signs point to my not eating at all. My family isn't bothering me about food, which I'm quite grateful for. They're probably pleased that I'm not eating more than the rest of the family combined, as I was wont to do recently. (Oh God, I don't want to do that again.)
It was very. It was a simple decision, really. Or a trigger, if you want to call it that. Once you decide that you no longer want to live, but that you haven't the courage to die, it becomes an easy task to say, 'Alright then. I just won't eat.' Anorexia is the closest thing to neither living nor dying. 'Sitting in the middle waiting.'
Yesterday's calories were something between 600 and 800. And eating that much sent me to panicking, to tell the truth. I'm baffled by the suddenness of my changes. I'm baffled by how quickly a person can fall back in again. All that needed to happen was deciding I'd be better off dead. Fancy that.
Note to self: Don't puke up cherries. The undigested bits are a very odd texture, and the redness will freak you out.
I'm afraid I don't have anything intelligent or interesting to say. My mind's been focused on dying, starving, and Crime and Punishment lately. Not much else. And while I've blabbed about the book to my family, I don't particularly feel the need to do so here.
I'm drowning a lot of things out. Suicidal impulses, however, are the primary thing I'm avoiding. Isn't it interesting when eating disorders save lives?
I'm never going to be healthy. All of this has gone on, on and off, switching paces, for too long. So depressing.
revoless.
6:31 p.m.
July 13, 2003.
Listening to: McLusky.
Drinking: Water.
Eating: Nothing.
Shopping? Fuck or Defensiveness, mostly. Entirely uninteresting