Wednesday, 23 February 2011

it's eating disorder awareness week and i need you better butterfly

we don't tend to think about anything but the present, perhaps stretching to immediate future at the very best. we're not good at imaging how our actions implicate on our future, how we alter amd shape everything through the moments that came before.

i know i certainly don't.
i know my illness certainly doesn't.

and there it is again, that pronoun "my" ...illness isn't a concept or reality most people cling to and yet i do, heading all my sentences, excuses, lies with my illness, my illness, my identity.

but it's killing me. and for once i can barely argue against that fact. all the sustained abuse, starvation, purging, chaotic rituals and pills i put my body through is finally catching up with me.

...when i first bought laxatives, i read the side affects of prolonged use and it said, "may cause weight loss due to muscle wastage." brilliant darling it said to me, more horror for your insides.

i forgot my heart was a muscle. 
i forgot as you lose weight from an alreadh underweight frame your internal organs start to fail.

now i'm seventeen and in the danger zone for collapsing and cardiac arrest. the doctor told mummy it's the worst case he's ever seen. i never thought i'd suffer any of those potentally fatal conditions through statving, but look what ...i did.

you think it won't happen to you, that you are untouchable. but you're not, you're really really not.

love and prayers, x xx

Saturday, 5 February 2011

two hundred porcelain puppets, that's you my lovelies, you folk right there.

thank you for following my dears, it means a strange amount that you should care about my life.

i'm still suffocating in thee place. 

now i have chest pains and tingling arms, strange black spots before my eyes and a chair instead of legs. i have the symptoms of cardiac arrest and i'm seventeen.

when did the world stop making sense?

did it ever?

i am all or nothing; ultimate power or utter vunerability. if i eat anything then i'll eat everything so i must eat nothing at all. it's been said before but it's so true and i'd rather starve than spit blood and acid.

i act out my life like it is not really my own but as if i am pretending to be me, to be someone else, or just to be anything. i watch my life unfold before my eyes and i feel powerless to change it's direction. and so, i feel directionless.

i want so much. everything i feel is so intense. i am too much for my own body and self to handle. here it is, my renunciation; i cannot cope. 

"it hurts that my best friend may die. you'll end up deciding when it's too late. your eighteen in seven months. you need to eat." - you are the reason i am trying because you are right, this ends two ways ...either dead or trying to building something resembling a life.

hugs and prayers and falling stars.

x xx
My photo
somewhere over the rainbow
hullo there stranger, welcome to the better side of me.

porcelain puppet dolls