I feel like all I talk about is me cutting, wanting to cut, wanting to not eat, having that whole hate myself because I did eat, and still eating.

And then I'm like "I should post something inspiring."
Then I think about it.
Nope, not happening today.
Like all I feel like I do with my life is cut.
Or think about cutting.
There's more than that, really.
I don't honestly cut very often anymore (it's becoming more frequent).
I took the Practice ACT.
I've made up like nine thousand tests from when I was gone.
I nearly cried when I saw a picture of me from last Halloween.
I was so freakin gorgeous.
J.P. said that it's not at my lowest weight, that I had gained some and didn't look as sickly.
Can I please be skinny?
And in response to that everyone is like "Fucking work for it."

I'm realizing that I need to quit letting J.P. rule my life.
I need to quit eating so much just because I'm scared to death that she'll got back to starving/purging.
I'm kind of scared that part my fear is a fear that she'll be skinnier than me rather than me being scared that she'll get really sick.

Apparently I don't realize that I'm as used to pain as I once was.
I have these thoughts of carving words into my various body parts.
A few months ago, even, this would be easy.
Then I go to actually do it.
My hands shake.
It hurts and I have to stop.
The cuts are shallow.
It's not like it used to be.
Only the release and blood is.
Everything is like when I started except the fact that my body is covered in scars.
And I'm not thirteen.
And I'm using razors instead of a chunk of glass.

Alright, I've decided that I'm gonna be skinny.
I've also decided (a while ago) that I hate my lexapro.
I've ALSO decided to tear up my foot before I go get J.P.
I also think I have a new follower?
HI!!! :D

Alright, I'm gonna go do that now.