I'm scared I'm being watched.

Don't you understand? You're not meant to read this. It isn't for you anymore.

Walls.

I'm building them up again. There is no point in being weak when there is noone to share with. No need to be completely vulnerable again.
I spent two years unbuilding what was reformed over night.
I must be strong. I must embrace it.
This terror, surly it will pass?
The fear of day break, of lonely hours.
It's just a phase.
Soon I can block it out too.
I'm grasping at the weak ties of friendship, torn between bridge building and swimming.
See the river, it already took my damn, maybe it's meant to have me too.
But how can I go with the flow when I have so many responsibilities?
So many obligations, tying me to the bank.
I want to let go, but then what would I have? I would gain nothing yet let down everyone.
No, that I cannot do.
So I let myself be stretched.
Further and further.
One day I'll snap again.
I can't let myself get there - there's noone to pick up the pieces.
So I must paint my body with rubber; line the vortex of my soul with things stronger than myself.

Fuck me.

God. I'm so frecking angry. So upset.
This rage, I want to rid myself from it. I cannot escape it.
It's not rational. I know this. I wish it was. It would make more sense.

I said I was going to leave behind "unhealthy eating" but it's just not that easy. I can't. I haven't purged or cut since 23rd December. But I have been bingeing and counting and restricting. I feel fat, ugly, unloveable. I'm a failure.

I'm sad. I miss andrew. I miss having someone to talk to about everything; to tell how terrified I am by uni, how overwhelmed I am. I have a meeting tomorrow with Jenny from the Christian Fellowship of Healing. I'm scared about that. She is a 'Christian listener' trained in counseling and things. I'm really not that good at talking. I don't know why I'm bothering. Fucking hell. I'm too overwhelmed. On Thursday I'm meeting with a mental health mentor from uni for the first time. I don't know why I'm bothering with that either. I don't know what kind of help I want. I just know that I'm not coping. I'm barely surviving.

Oh fuck.

One day I'm gonna whistle.

sweetpea posted this on her wonderful blog. It think it is the best thing ever, for a while at least.
She also awarded me this:

An award, for my blogging. It gave me butterflies. 

The rules state that I have to share ten random things about myself and award this to five other beautiful bloggers who write from the heart.

1) I always wished my name was George or Charlie.
2) I dream of one day having my own kitchen where I can label and alphabetise everything and not have it messed up by people who don't know the system.
3) My favourite piece of furniture is a dresser I found on the street.
4) My favourite wine glass was also found on the street.
5) My left wall covered in a collage of photos, beside my bed I keep my three favourite people - my brother, (not)my andrew, and my margaret.
6) I am a pathological liar.
7) I love playing netball.
8) I miss Canada, and the people who made me feel so worthwhile there.
9) I love Karine Polwart, Juliet Turner, and Yvonne Lyon.
10) I share my bed with a lion called Desmond, a rabbit called Mopsy and a cow called Poptart.

People who deserver this award more than me:
1) Bella, such beautiful sadness
2) Sofia, such heart
3) Heathersays, such dreaminess
4) Barry, such profound musings
5) Athena, such life

It is all of a sudden tomorrow and I was going to have an early night so I am not going to muse anymore. I love your support, and that people actually read whatever jumbled mess I spew out. It makes me feel so special. I will go to sleep thinking of you and be happy. x

Keys to the Kingdom got locked inside the Kingdom

So, I should be writing 500 words about Marx. I'd like to say he got me thinking, but really my brains not up for thinking. Instead I have a few minutes to write a few words and hopefully find some thoughts in the jumble of my mind before I replace my mask and go to play netball.

Firstly, thank you all for your loving comments on my last post. 

Classes started on Monday and I immediately found myself completely overwhelmed by them. I thought about how I would usually go to Andrew and how I can't do that anymore. 

I'm so confused. So sad. So lonely. 

I don't know how to write anything that makes sense.

My brain is just so full of emptiness.

So I fill it with short lived endorphins.

I fill it with plans, lists, numbers. 

I calculate and categorize in an effort to free myself from this abyss.

But I'm still trapped. 

My face aches with tears I cannot cry.

My soul weeps with feelings I don't know how to express.

My stomach rumbles with empty sympathy.

Broken Hearted.

A picture by my friend neil

Today is my last day of wallowing (for now at least). Tomorrow I will start a new diet and exercise routine for the new term.

Today I am sad. I broke up with boyfriend of over two years on monday. We had been through too much, he had suffered too much pain because of me. I broke him and I broke us.

This boy was sent to save me. He spent nights with me at the a&e, holding back my hair while I puked charcoal. He held me when I cried. He thought I was beautiful, even in my sadness.

He had so much life when we met. He knew who I was, yet he loved me anyway. He fought my dragons for me when I became too weak to care. In his arms I felt so safe. But my dragons, they went for him too. I wanted to protect him. I wanted to hide my flaws because I hate them, because if I could just be normal for a while then maybe it would be easier. But I couldn't. My dragons scratched deep into my flesh. my wounds could not be hidden. My scars formed walls between us. My cuts, an empty valley once filled with laughter.

He is a saint. Each time I wanted to die, he made me live. He was my crutch, my knight, my love. Now he's left me, I need to learn how to live on my own. I have to. My dragons have fought enough of my battles. It's time I fought back.