Monday, 8 April 2019

This is my diary

So somehow I made it through today. I’ve gone to bed at 8 pm though as I type this. Today was awful. I’m not sleeping due to the nightmares and paralysis I actually swear I go to another universe and it just drains me. So I’m not going to my math exam tomorrow because I can’t pass it so I will set it next week on the same day as another exam I am redoing.
Which means I have three exams due next week and my case study dyebthis Friday which is unfinished and in this state I’m dying.
I look in the mirror and cry because I know what I’m doing and as much as I think I want to stop it I don’t. I’m letting Ana win. I’m letting her take me. I’m breaking. People are noticing and I can’t think I can’t do anything. I contsnly feel sick and am severely dehydrated. Hence the tiredness. The restriction grows. A can’t finish an Apple. I don’t even want to binge. I’m so afraid of digesting food to my bowel prolapse. 
I’m doing this for me. 
Who else do I have? 
To rely on? To keep my secrets. To see me through. 
There are very few. But I’m isolating more trying to get away. No one can stop me. I won’t die. I’m not even sick. I am just overreacting and weak. I am useless and will never be perfect. 
Perfect for anyone. 
I try and try but for what? 
This at least I can. 
If you’re not there for me well I’ve decided I’m not there for you. I’m putting what little energy I have into myself not eating it on people who don’t listen to my advise. I will not be used. And I will not confide. Stick to you’re own toxic lives. 
It’s quite clear who has mental health biological maladaptive disorders which you cannot fake for attention. So don’t come to me because She’s not here. 

Thank you to those who reach out to me and care . Even the ones I don’t talk to often I know you are there and you know I am here and that is true friendship. 

So I’m putting up a fight. But the possibilities are lessening so I need to play it safe and hydrate, vitamins and pass blood tests. Make up hides the pallor, shaving hides the languo. Baggy clothes make me look worse. But surely it won’t get worse than this?  I am broke, I have no lover. Neither do I care. 
I have my cat. I have my family. 
I will document my Ana on here and vent on @saz.vents 

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