But I got,

So comfortable here.

I'm moving.

To where he cannot find me.
I don't know how long I'll be.
I'll let you know when I get there.
Love you all.

He's been here again.

Why do you keep coming back?

Help me.

Sweet Lauren gave me an award. Look, it's over there ->
Isn't it beautiful?
There are conditions to accepting the reward.
I must share 7 things about myself, and then pass it on to 10 others.
This I will do in good time.
But right now I am just far too sad to even contemplate it.
Sorry.
I am just so lonely.
Never alone.
Just ever so lonely.
I want to.
Break free.
Let me out.
Please.


Updated:
It's 6pm.
I need to be acCOUNTable.
I do not need to eat any more tonight.
Tomorrow I will eat 3 meals.
But I will stick to 800.
I will be healthy.
I hate bingeing.
I can't purge any more.
I don't know why.
I shouldn't anyway. I don't want to.
But I'm freaking out that it's all just going to stay in me.
I feel I need to.
I feel I need to share so I can stand through the pain.
Urrgh.
I hate it.

My whole world is the pain inside of me,

The best I can do is just get through the day.

When life before is only a memory,

I wonder why God lets me walk through this place.

And though I can't understand why this happened,

I know that I will when I look back someday

And see how You brought beauty from ashes

And made me as gold, purified through these flames...

I cling to Your promise, that there'll be a dawn...

Though it won't be today, someday I'll hope again...

Bring it back now, yeah.

I need to regain control.
I need to be in charge.
I've given up the coffee, given up the cigarettes.
It is all about me, and I have got a lot to answer for.
I've been stretched.
I've done bad, but that's okay.
It's time to bring it back.
It's all about me.

Today I've had the worst caffeine withdrawal headache despite having the equivalent of 4 cups of coffee with pills. I hope that tomorrow will be better. The first day's always the worst. My body just needs to get used to it. I need to rely on me. Not caffeine or nicotine. I can't afford to, more than anything else. Smoking is also disgusting. I want to stop.

I'm writing my plans.
Need to keep on top of life.
There's still so much to be done.

This is my choir.
This is where I've been tonight.
With these joyful faces.
Oh how I love this choir.
(That's me playing bass).
(And the ex playing trumpet).
I hope you enjoy.



Thanks for your support guys, today in class we were talking about whether facebook and blogging communities could be thought of as social capital. My lecturer said that for many people, blogging communities are much more real than any other they're part of. I think that's true. Here, I'm not afraid to say anything. I know I'm not judged, and I know that you guys are always there for me. It's like I've found lots of people that are like me enough to understand, who get me, and love me, whatevs. I love that about you guys, thank you so much. <3


Also, Lisa, I am not Stephen. My name is Heather. I'm sorry he hurt you, but please, take your bitterness elsewhere.

Smiling as the shit comes down.

I'm so lonely.
I'm so sad.
I'm eating to fill the void in my soul.
It's still empty.
My thighs are swollen, my cheeks, my stomach.
My eyes are puffy from tears I cannot cry.
My heart yearns for him.
My head has lost its power of reason.
I think, maybe in summer, we'll give in to this love.
We can be together, be happy again.
Dreaming.
Empty wasted dreams.
I am not good enough for him.
Not normal enough.
But he never loved me for being normal.
I relive that day when he first told me he loved me.
Then think of all the times I hoped to die in that same room.
All the fear that leaving it brought.
My confidence is knocked.
He didn't help to build it up.
I changed for because of him.
One day, the shit came down, and we were no longer living in lovers paradise.
But still I long to be in his arms. I long to be home.
Every time I see him I start falling.
Falling head over heals in love with him again.
Longing for his touch.
But it never comes.
Each time we part, my heart breaks a little bit more.
I'm too fragile to be torn apart like this.

Edward Evan Evans-Pritchard

I have a presentation to write.
It's already after 8pm.
14 hours then I have to speak for one.
I'm so scared I'm numb. I'm unprepared. I've spent the last 5 hours staring at it.
Thinking about food instead. Mindlessly counting. Planning and recounting.
Thinking about cutting. Hating myself. General numbness.
I'm not highly anxious. This confuses me more.
I just want it to be the weekend.
I still have an essay to write.
But come Friday, I should have handed that it.
Then it will be the weekend. I'm going to go to the gym. I'm going to sleep.
I'm tired. Exhausted. Numb.
Who calls their child Edward Evan when their surname is Evans-Pritchard?
Cruel.
1 day, 18 hours, 42 minutes.
That's all I have to make it through.
All I want to do is throw in the towel.
I hate being around people because I always eat. I hate myself for hating being around people. I don't want to push people away again. I'm so confused. I hope it's just deadline stress. But I can't tell. Maybe it's the drugs. Maybe that's why I'm just numb. I don't know. I just don't know.

I must remember that all is not lost.