ur(welcome)mom.

Dinner was enormous but I was better than I have been in the past.
A good little girl I've become.
Tomorrow's fast awaits.
Can't let myself see my numbers until after the fast. I'll break. Die. Bleed all over the scale. Cannot let it destroy me. Not now.

Today and yesterday have seeped sins inside of me. Yesterday wasn't bad at all. Today was much worse but not horrible. Only maybe half of it stayed inside me and the rest will be depleted by laxatives.

The cuts from yesterday weren't bad. I bruise really easily so I decided to be kind to my skin. They sting though. Soreness holds my calf. My brother kicked them today, too. Unknowingly. Blood seeping through my clothes. Thank goodness I wore two pairs of pants. Thank God the blood settled in black clothing. Invisible to the mother's eye.

The resentment and disappointment is withheld by the parental units at this point. It no longer lingers the house. Not an emotion stirring.

Such painful, fatty sins today. I can't help but want to open my skin and let them out again. It's such a horridly difficult habit to break. Must not undo the success of my scar cream. Must not demolish the progress. But it feels oh so fucking good. Dinner is in my body. I can't stand it. Angry enough the have the tears welted up in my eyes fall to the ground. Tears or blood?

Is it bad to blame my mom for this? She says I hold destroying myself over her when she's upset with me. There are better ways to go about the way she settles things with me. And of all, telling me to go cut myself isn't the best choice, is it? I tell her I'll slice myself when she gets rash only because I don't want to lie, we both know it's true, and the pain kills me. I don't want to hear the way she gets when I want to cut myself. Precisely why I sleep it off. Unconsciousness takes it away. I'm gone. I don't feel it anymore. It's my only answer.

Especially after this Christmas, I feel like nothing more/less than a burden upon my family. I cause problem after problem. I am the reason we're broke. I am the reason for all unhappiness. I am the reason for anything not good. I'm only acknowledged for my screw ups. Which is everything I do. I hate being disappointed in. Why would I do it on purpose? Why would my mom think I do?

1. 2. 3. .. 11. 12. 13. 14. And 15.
Sleeping pills to do the job.
I'll at least be sick tomorrow. All day.
If I can wake up.
1. 2. 3. ... 7. 8. And 9.
Cuts to let the sins out.
I'll be bloody sore tomorrow.

<3 you're welcome, mom... u__u
i'm sorry, maybe i won't be doing this to you anymore
the pills will be gone soon enough, just keep talking to me
i'll keep bleeding, i promise