crash&burn.

My question of the day is...
HOW THE FUCK DOES NO ONE KNOW?
There's no way to be poetic or write it out the way I usually do.
Just...how? My parents come home from where ever in the morning, there are half a dozen doughnuts missing, and I'm in the bathroom gagging. At dinner I eat half a burrito and a couple chips. I spend the entire day in my room exercising or staring at my veins. When I'm sitting, I squish my fat without realizing it, for hours. I pop diet pills, won't let people cook for me, eat a lot of soup, don't bother hiding that I skip two meals a day, I don't eat snacks, and then for a couple days I eateateateat.
How has no one noticed?
It's not for attention it's just...My mom sort of knows. She doesn't do anything.
My best friend watches me eating a couple cups of lettuce for dinner with diet coke. I told Dakota about it and she poked my side and said I was fine. I ate half a slice of pizza and took off the cheese and wiped off the sauce in front of my friend Arwen. May watched me eat a bag of salad for dinner and talked about 'how little I've eaten these past few years'.
People have noticed, but they don't do shit.
I don't want people in my private world. But I need to be saved from it because it's tearing me apart. I want out. I want someone to pull me back to earth.
It's like...Unless I'm eighty-five pounds and bony no one cares.
Fine, guys. Fine. I'll be eighty-five pounds and bony.
Fuck you all. Fuck. FUCK.

I'm not actually angry at them. I'm angry at myself for ever recovering and gaining sixty pounds. I'm angry that I didn't keep going. I'm angry that I let my bad thoughts back in when I relapsed. I'm angry that apparently I'm 'beautiful! gorgeous! pretty!' and I don't get to see it. Why don't I get to fucking see it? I'm so ugly, I live inside myself and I have to see how ugly I am every day.
Fuck. I'm crying. I hate myself for that too. I want to open up my skin right now. No, I want to burn myself.
I have a curling iron. I could do it. I could half curl my hair, lay the hot iron on my arm and scream so my parents would think it was an accident. I would be a partially curled girl in the ER with a third degree burn.
Or I could heat pieces of metal like I usually do and drop it on my skin.
I've spend the past three hours in the bathroom staring. I'm so horrible. I don't know. I'm ugly on the inside and outside and awful and bad, bad, bad badbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbadbad