I lost my job.
My birthday has passed and I am still in the same Hell hole place.
I am not happier.
I am not even eating fine. I have been binge eating several thousand calories per day, and yet I am losing weight. My head spins and makes me nauseous in the dark. I am always freezing or burning up. My period came two weeks early. I stopped taking any meds. I don't work so I don't need them. I have stopped feeling most emotion. I have started dating D. I do not love him.
Sometimes my heart beats so hard that it jars my body with each beat, and sometimes you can't even feel my pulse. My anxiety attacks have been internalized, to the point where I can be terrified on the inside, and on the outside I can't even say a word. I don't want to talk to people. The idea of talking to people makes me want to kill myself. Literally.
I eat too much, and spend too much money on pointless things.
After eating too much I think endlessly about making myself puke it up but then D would get more worried. He passed out at work the other day and was driven to the ER. The doctor could only assume it was from stress and released him after a few hours. That was the day I didn't wake up for 24 hours. Nearing the end of that time period, I didn't even wake up when I was texted or called, even though the phone was right next to my ear. I was so shut down and anxious, my body did not even wake up.
I am regularly in the high 130's now, but I also get to 140-143 often. Usually just a pound over the 140 mark though.
I have been having sleeping issues. I once stayed awake for four days. Somewhere around the second or third day I tried to sleep. I napped for maybe 2 or 3 hours, woke up, and was then wide awake again.
I am sick of life.
I just want everyone to let me die.
I hate it here with D, I hate it there at the apartment, I hate my parent's house. I am just jumping from one stressful place to another. I feel as if I am just dying on the inside. There is no safe place. I would rather not exist at all.
The days seem endless, the nights longer.
I understand what I am doing wrong and how I can correct it, but I just don't want to put in the effort. To me, it is still hard to find a reason to keep going on. I am trapped in this miserable existence and I just want it to end. The rain may be blocked out by the structure of the house, but to me, I am always raining on the inside. The blood that manages to drip through my dehydrated veins is painful. I am in physical and emotional pain. I cannot do this anymore. It's hopeless and no one has the power to help me, not even myself. Where am I going to find shelter in this rain of my own making? I won't.
I choose to throw away this life of mine that everyone else loves and sees purpose in. Fine, I am ungrateful. I am disgusting. I am a sinner. Throw stones at my soul for deciding to throw it away, I don't care. I am already broken. If you were to attack who I am, I would just gratefully accept it. It has been so long since anyone told me directly what I am and what they think of me. I would accept it like a beggar in the dessert would accept a small loaf of bread and a glass of water.
I am dying. I am starting to wonder if even my body is starting to go along with my mind. My heart just wants to give up. On most days, my heart literally feels like it is tired. My chest literally feels tight and sinking, like my heart is working too hard to keep on going. I want to start purging just out of morbid curiosity because I know how much purging affects your heart. I want my heart to just give up too. I want it to stop.
I can feel the pain that I would give everyone else when I die. I am savoring that pain. I hope, to them, it is nothing worse painful than what I am experiencing every day now. I can't do it. I really can't.
I just want to bleed. Last time I was here I took the pair of scissors on the desk and just sliced open my arm over and over and over again. I didn't go deep. This time I want to. I want to slice open my face, and cut through the corner of my eye and through my cheek bone, and sever my sinuses and expose the muscle in my jaw, and the inside of my mouth through my lip. I want to gouge out that little sink spot at the base of my throat. I want to slash at the bits in my neck. I want to go at my wrist and just see how deep I can go. I want to see a pulse. I want to hurt. I want to maim. What good are these hands if the only thing they can do is draw and write and create things that express my pain. They do not get me out of here. They will not earn me money or give me a job. They are worthless. I am worthless.
I don't want to live in this world anymore, or any other. I want to be dead. My body is just a cage for my soul, even if I would destroy my soul by trying to help it escape and be free, I can die trying.
I am tired of religious people and their views on depression and suicide, and life after death.
I am sick of those who love me and all of their views. I DON'T CARE RIGHT NOW.
And any blogger who would comment on this, it would just be wasted words. Everyone knows that bloggers can't be good friends, which is why not a single one of us is missed when we are gone. I dare anyone to look back and realize how long it has been since I last posted. I already know.
I don't want to do this anymore...