Everytime I start this journal, I could only get the title out. It's going to be so emo and lame...
And then I stopped and I thought: No, that's really it. That's all I need to say.
But there's stuff behind it. A meaning. A purpose. And I know I gotta force my fingers to click on the keys until it all comes out and I can feel better about it. It literally is throwing up my emotions on the page.
I feel horrible. Not just emotionally, but physically. I feel like all of my meat and fat and skin are just falling off my bones.
(I'm still bleeding. Still doing. Took my last red pill today so it'll just keep going for another week. That's three weeks in a row- if you don't count the week before that where I had two days of rest.)
I'm losing weight. I see it in the mirror. And while I should be happy, because this means I'm more attractive, I'm not. I don't like seeing my body change. I don't like feeling like everything is plastic wrapped to my bones.
I don't know if the weight loss is from the stress or the bleeding, or both.
Maybe the bleeding's from the stress.
I eat normally, too... It's not like I'm still throwing up and being partially anorexic. I'm not THAT stressed. It's like my body's in a love/hate relationship with me.
I feel guilty.
I had emailed J-man because I had been sick of a lot of things. This was a while ago.
And he replied.
Some of it was good and some was really, really bad. Not bad in the "I hate you" way, but bad in the way that it makes me realize how much I fucked up everything.
And now I feel guilt. A lot of it. And it's been eating away at me; at my mind, my body...
I hate myself.
I hate everything about how I act, look, feel, think.
I fool everyone into thinking that I'm some confident person, but when I look in the mirror, I just see everything that I've done to people.
And hurt them.
I hate that I hurt people.
I hate that I didn't know any better back in seventh grade of how I was SUPPOSED to act in relationships.
I hate that I hurt him so much that I wrecked his feelings for me.
I hate that I lost him because of something that happened three years ago.
I hate that I have to watch him walk away again.
I hate that he's probably the most perfect person I had ever met, and the flaws he had were all my fault.
I wish a million times over that I could go back and change the way things happen so I could just have him back. I mean... I don't love him right now, but I did love what we had. I loved everything about him. And everything broke because of my own stupid mistakes.
God, oh god... What have I done?