literally sat here in tears because of my frustration. with myself. with public transport. with old as hell gas meters. and with this cold and damp country.

i want to go to sleep and wake up in dallas. i don’t want to do this anymore.

went to winchester, lovely, but maybe not worth it for such a short period of time. went to the train station, got on the train, stood there for an hour. LOVELY! got on the tube, severe delays and signal failures and whatnot… even more LOVELY. get home, no heat or water.. LOVELY! go top up my gas card with 100 pounds, only to find out it already had money on it, LOVELY. get home freezing from my very expensive excursion, water and heat works. FANFUCKINGTASTIC.

why is it whenever i work hard to save money it always goes to the boring shit like bills, food, travel. why can’t i spend it on me?

[youtube width="425" height="25"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThVjiEuDaUs[/youtube]

i see this picture and i hurt. i hurt all over. inside and outside. the tears run and i remember the pain. the panic. the hurtful things i’ve done to myself and others. it makes me sick, but the worst thing is that i was sick. i’m not sick anymore, so why should i feel this way? why do i put myself down like this? why can’t i stay happy.

breakfast this morning wasn’t good. i had to force myself to eat a slice of bread and some yogurt while cleaning my room. then when me and Simon finally got off our asses to go to the gym i was hungry again.. there wasn’t any lunch at home so i decided to get something at tesco’s on the way. mistake. nothing looked appealing. i found a salad i liked, but of course there wasn’t any plastic forks so how was i supposed to eat it, with my hands? so i put that back. didn’t want another one of their nasty sandwiches.. so i opted for a chicken pasta thing. got a bottle of water and thought i was set! i was already frustrated cause i didn’t get any food that i actually felt like eating, and i hate spending money on food. i think it’s a waste. the less i buy the less i eat.. makes sense no? but it’s not good for me i know. either way we started walking towards the gym while i was eating, and well after two bites i wanted to be sick. the pasta made my mouth taste like poison and the chicken just made my stomach churn, not cause it tasted bad but because i didn’t want to eat. i didn’t want to eat. i didn’t want it. i didn’t want to add more to my stomach. it felt stupid eating before a work out. what’s the point? but you can’t work out on an empty stomach, it’s not smart. i broke down and started crying, and poor simon was so confused. it’s hard when i can’t explain what’s going on, half the time i don’t even know! i was just so frustrated that my ed thoughts are coming back. i was mad at myself, the eating disorder, everything. i was upset, and frustrated. but we kept walking, i ended up throwing away the pasta cause i couldn’t bare to look at it. i didn’t want it. simon said he wouldn’t let me work out on an empty stomach so we went into somerfields and i bought a banana and a smoothie. it filled me up and it wasn’t as difficult to eat. i don’t know why the pasta was so hard but it was. it was like Ed was set on me not eating it, i wasn’t allowed and i listened. next time i’ll make the choices, i’ll pick something i will eat. i will eat it. i’m sick of ed bossing me around. i want to eat without any worries, i want to just eat. just be.

have any of you guys ever noticed the extreme calm that comes after crying? i feel tired, yet awake. everything feels surreal.. ive never thought of this before. interesting. anyways i think its time to go to bed, got lots to do tomorrow!

ive been fighting back my tears all day. i feel like one wrong word, or one move will set me off. but when i got home and sat down ready for the waterfall nothing came. im so irritated. everytime someone asks me if im okay im about to break down, yet when i allow myself to i wont. what is this? some sick cry for attention? i wish i wasnt here alone right now. its funny though i go to see my dad in the hospital and hes worrying about me being okay, weather or not im eating, if im being good. so typical of him. it was hard to see him at first. so out of it. so helpless. but the nurses assured me that hes doing very well. even though i didnt think it looked like it. he was drifting in and out of sleep and didnt really grip what the time was. i can understand that with all the heavy drugs hes on. i wanted to stay. i wanted to be there all night looking after him. i felt like i was doing a better job than the nurses, giving him water, fixing his bed, doing this, doing that. but i guess thats just the emotions kicking in. when i was leaving one of the nurses asked me how i was doing and of course my eyes watered up. so she sat with me in the waiting room telling me it was all right and that its a shame im all alone. so she gave me her phone number and told me to call her whenever, and if i wanted to just take a walk she would be delighted to go with me. she has two dogs, both cocker-spaniels so i think were going to take a walk tomorrow. i thought it was very nice of her to offer.  then right as i walked up to our building i see michael, a guy dad works with. he asks how dads doing and offers me to go to dinner with him and his wife and then to a jazz festival in howth. i said yes because i need some interaction and i cant just sit here and mope. i need to get out. plus theyre very nice people. lets hope i can make it through the evening without crying in public.