Thursday, 6th November, 2014

Morning Weight: 102lb

7:32am

I'm so annoyed. I wrote an entry about last night and didn't finish it! I'll try and write it again later.

8:32am

Last night was a terrible dream. A beautiful nightmare. A strange new reality.

It began as normal, Garfield and I kissing and cuddling. He turned me onto my tummy and ran his hands across my back, gently, softly. He kissed as much of me as possible, lightly touching his lips down every part of my spine from my hairline to my lower back.

Then something happened. Something changed. There's a black part, I don't know what happened but suddenly he was attacking me. Wrapping his hand almost completely around my neck and forcing my face against his. Our lips crashed together like thunder, over and over. His hands were no longer gentle, they were rough and harsh. At one point he grabbed my hair, turning my head to face his.

My heart beat faster and I felt fear sweep through me, panic at this almost violent touch. 

But then M lent a hand. M is a person inside me. She's wild, stubborn, confident, manipulative, powerful, and has taken over my body before, turning me into the voice in her head.

This time, however, all she did was hand me a little box. In my brief panic I grabbed it, and she melted back into a dormant corner of my mind, waiting to step in the next time I feel threatened. There's a darkness in me too that could potentially be even more violent and destructive, but I feel it's waiting for "true" threat..

Anyway, all of this happened in barely a second in reality, and I opened this little box in my mind. M's seductive, confident, powerful, violent passion filled my body. For once, I was me but with her traits. For once, I was both her and me at the same time. And I was in control.

I retaliated, attacking Garfield and mimicking his touch. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pressing his lips against mine. I put a hand on his back, keeping his body against mine. I let the thunder continue to be made with our lips.

I couldn't watch. This wasn't me. This was a dream. This wasn't reality. This was wrong. This wasn't me.

I kept my eyes shut, moved as if in a trance, let this borrowed wildness take over and control my actions.

I couldn't watch. This wasn't me.

Eventually the kisses became softer, the touch became gentle once more, the box closed and I returned it to M. I didn't know how to think. That wasn't me. I would never retaliate like that.

I've never felt so threatened, I've never been touched so roughly by hands other than my own.

In a strange way, I accepted it. This was, after all, how I should be treated. I don't deserve gentle and soft, I deserve rough and almost uncaring. I deserve cuts and bruises, a battered and bruised body that reflects my mind, my heart.

I'm still not sure how I feel about this. Yet for some reason, writing it out in flowing prose somehow organises the mess and tangle of this strange reality.

And having written it out, I don't need to fear forgetting it. I can move on, think of other things because it'll be here when I need it again.

10:29am

I see everyone come into the form room with their nachos and their pizza and their carb-filled delights.

Her: We don't need that stuff. Those gross carbs, you're better than that.

Me (eating my raspberries): Exactly. Those poor people are slaves to their bodies. I'm in complete control of mine.


2:46pm
I am going to look so beautiful for Christmas. I'm literally eating almost nothing but fruit from now on, and even that's restricted. It's great!
Yesterday, I fasted successfully, and now today I have a limit of 250g Raspberries (135kcal).
In order to keep my metabolism going, I've divided the raspberries into 50g portions, so that I can have them at 5 regular intervals throughout the day, and all before 8pm. No eating after 8pm, that's a rule me and Ana Maria have agreed on. I had the rule before she and I talked the other day, but we've agreed that the rule should stay.
In fact, we have 7 rules. 7, a beautiful number.


Skylark's Rules
1. No eating after 8pm
2. No eating before 8am
3. No sweets or chocolate
4. Drink at least 3 litres of water per day
5. Complete your workout once a day
6. If you eat more than 500 calories, you must purge
7. If a drink is more than 5 calories per 100ml, count it towards your limit.

10:46pm

Her: WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?!

Me: It's true... He deserves better... I'm nothing, I'm worthless, a failure.. I'm not worthy of his love.

Her: You're so stupid! You know if you lose him then that's it. Life over. You'll either binge, feel shit and kills yourself, starve yourself to death, or become so depressed that you can't function any more, and eventually you'll just top yourself.

Me: I know... But he deserves be-

Her: Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. Yes, you ruined today, but you're going to keep going because you're going to be underweight for Christmas. Seriously, get a grip. If you lose him then that's your life over and as cliché as that sounds you know it's true. He's all you've got.

Me: I've got you...

Her: Yes, because having your only friend as the personification of a crippling mental disorder that's slowly killing you and causing you permanent health problems is a great idea.

Me: What else am I meant to do? I'm not worth it... I'm not worth his time, his kindness, his love...

Her: Okay, so what. But you could be. That's the thing. You can change. It will take time, you have to be patient and strong, you mustn't give up no matter what. You can be better, but there'll never be another one of him. You'll never find anyone else more perfect for you. So either throw this last chance at romance and a happy life away and wait for the darkness to fuel a successful suicide attempt, or knuckle up and grit your teeth, and keep trying.

She placed her hands softly on my shoulders and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

Her: You can do this. Be strong. I know you can, and remember you're too stubborn to give up.

And with that, she left. 

Tears pricked my eyes, and I stared at the text on my phone:

Garfield: It's your decision. I really hope I don't go

I began to cry with dry eyes. Not a single tear trickled down my cheek.

Instead, I cried on the inside of the walls of my heart.

Evening Weight: 102lb