I guess I have to live with the fact im a fat failure who will amount to nothing.

  I will be collapsed on the floor, bawling my eyes out, and if you ask me, even at that moment, I will look at you and tell you I’m fine. I don’t think I deserve help, and besides whenever I try to tell someone how I feel, I don’t even know where to start. How do you tell anyone who’s sane that you hate yourself, that most days, you don’t even want to get out of bed, that you desperately want to end this pain? No fucking normal person would EVER look at me the same. 

We don’t.

I was going a little too fast, and I had the strongest urge to just turn the wheel, super hard, and super fast. I’d lose control of my car, it would start spinning, I would crash and probably die. So why didn’t I do it? 1. It’s my moms car, it’s hard enough having a fucked up daughter, no need for a fucked up car. 2. There were people on the road, and I didn’t think it’d be fair for anyone else to die because I’m skrewed up.

apparently not.

Because the other girl was better.

Last time I checked there’s nothing glamorous about holding onto the toilet, and vomiting the only real meal you ate today. Then again I can’t judge seeing as the only reason I ate that meal was so I could have something to vomit

but I haven’t really eaten anything.

I just want to go up and hug them, because I wish that’s what someone would do for me. Just because you ignore it, doesn’t mean its gone. When people see my scars, they don’t say anything, but their tone changes. I hate that tone change, all I ever needed was a hug, a shoulder to cry on, and a non-judgemental person to listen. Saying you’re pretty, or beautiful, or you don’t need to do this, won’t help me. I know I’m pretty, thats not why I starve, thats not why I cut, I wish for once, instead of talking, someone would listen.

i only ate around 300cal, and threw up the sandwich which was around 150cal, and I feel fucking guilty. this isn’t okay! w/e gym time.