My mum wants to talk to me. I'm scared. I don't know what to say. But I want help. I really want help.

But I've eaten something. I've been good today. I'd eaten too little so I decided to raise my calorie goal and eat a snack. So perhaps I can stop falling into an ED by myself? I hope so, because it had been getting worse.

Yeah i'm just going to smile, pretend it's all okay. I'm going to say i'm fine but I really just want you to notice i'm not okay. To hug me and tell me it's all going to be fine, to not hurt me anymore for everything I do... when you tell me you love me and won't ever hurt me I want you to mean it forever, not just until the next time you get drunk and I upset you.
I don't want you to hit me anymore and call me stupid when I cry... I want you to hold my hand and kiss my forehead and say you'll...

I feel sick and shaky.

The pills are still there. Most of them, anyway.

I don't know what to do with myself.

Exercise until I collapse.

I should eat more.

But I don't want to.

I'm hungry. But I'm fighting it. Why am I fighting it?

Why does it feel like life is my enemy, like I'm my enemy?

Why does it feel like it's not worth it?

Why do I just want it to be over?...

I've taken four. I have ten left. What now? Do I have the guts?

...

I want to take them. I want to die. Christ, why won't these feelings stop? Why is it that as soon as I'm on my own I'm a wreck. I want to cut. But I promised him I wouldn't. I promised him I wouldn't overdose either. Who cares about freaking promises. Make this stop. Please, someone make this stop.

I'm talking to a friend over msn, who says they're feeling depressed because of their ex. I'm finding it really hard to help, because although I love them, and I understand they feel bad, it hurts that they don't know how I've been feeling. It hurts that people don't know, and if they see me crying or angry or something, they think I'm weird or over reacting to something or just attention seeking. I hate keeping everything hidden.

Tried to help today. Screwed up as usual. My mom asked me to clean the windows. I wanted to. I wanted to help her and prove i'm not as useless as everyone makes out but i just couldn't do it. It was stupidly sunny. Everyone was outside in bikini tops or short sleeves. I had a long sleeved jumper on hiding all my scars that noone knows about. I couldn't risk anyone seeing. So it told her i didn't want to but i would do something else. She moaned but i guess i'd rather that than her find out the truth....

Still at the hospital. I think their letting me out in a couple hours, But I have to go right from here to therapy. Not my usual therapy either, I have to go to "group therapy". "So I can understand I'm not alone in this world" (Doctor's words, not mine)
My social worker came to see me, She asked me how I was and I tried. (she wrote everything down, it was quite creepy) After that she went out into the hall to talk to Debbie and Bill, And told them she's thinking about...

DIE DIE DIE:

I want to die.
I don't want to live anymore.
Is there a difference between the two;
Wanting to die and not wanting to live?

It's really stupid though;
Things are going okay,
I have plans for the future,
I have friends and stuff,
Yet I feel like I'm depressed.
I'm unhappy for no reason.

I have reasons to be happy,
Yet I'm depressed.
It's not right, is it?
It's kind of messed up....