I'm really tired of myself.
I feel really cliche in all the worst ways.
I don't really remember ever liking who I am so that's not the issue really.
It's just gotten so hard to ignore the things I'm doing.
I've been teetering on a weird dotted line I had never noticed before.
I've actually considered getting better.
I'm not talking about the pathetic attempts at recovery I've tried because thinking that you can be healthy and starve and binge and purge and cut yourself is not rational.
I've thought about throwing it all away.
Sinking back into myself the way I had before I met Lukas.
I thought about dying in comparison to actually living.
I don't know which i want but this limbo of not dead but not alive is getting so tiring.
It's exhausting killing myself to no avail.
Starving for no results and slitting my own throat only to realize that my blade is plastic.
I am tired.
I don't know how to decide if I want to die or live.

My account on tumblr got suspended and I'm fucking done

I'm jealous of anyone who can be near you.
Being able to touch you; to wrap my arms around your neck and breathe in the cent of your skin.
To hear your laugh and watch the color rise in your cheeks.
To hold your hand and kiss you; there isn't anything I want more.
So when you ask if I am jealous I won't lie to you.
I wish to let my love for you seep from my pores and melt on your flesh.
My complexion might as well have a tint of green.

I purged clumps of blood yesterday.
I had this weird feeling afterwards.
My heart felt strange and everything got really slow.
I had to lay down for two hours.
I'm shaky and constantly cold.
My nails are always a weird blue purple color(it fades into orange and my nails look like a sunset).
Despite the fact that these should be worrying I can't help but feel proud that finally; finally, I am showing signs of sickness.
And then today I got my period.
It's a month late but that makes no difference.
It came back and I'm in so much fucking pain and all I want to do is scream.
And possibly cry which is guaranteed considering I'm a hormonal wreck.
I don't think I could possibly explain the disgust I currently hold for my body.
The longest I lost my period for was four months.
I feel like a failure and nothing ever work out right.
No matter what I do I'm healthy or faking it or not sick enough or don't warrant help and I'm just so fucking SICK of it.
I'm tired of sitting here being at a health weight when I feel like the living fucking death.
I'm tired of trying to prove the fact that I have mental illnesses.
I'm tired of people scoffing at me when I say I suffer from disordered eating.
I'm tired of not having a fucking diagnosis to justify my self hatred.
I'm really fucking tired.

I hate the not knowing.
I hate the second guessing.
I hate the nights I sit here alone wondering if you passed out or just don't feel like talking.
I hate alone.
I hate everything about alone.
I hate the emptiness.
I hate the constant worrying if I did something to make you start to resent me.
I hate thinking that you could resent me.
I hate being alone thinking that you think these things.
I hate not being able to ask you if any of the things I worry about are true.
Alone feels like shit.
Thinking you resent me feels like shit.
Being alone with the thought that you could possibly resent me makes me want to kill myself.

Don't leave me.
I don't think I could take it.

I'm scared that you'll get tired of me.
What if one day you wake up and can't remember why I was so special to you at the beginning?
Something in the back of my mind is telling me that you don't love me.
There's an increasing emptiness in your voice when you say those three words, or am I imagining it?
Is this my paranoia whispering into my ear when I'm on the edge of consciousness?
What are you thinking?
Why don't I already know?
I'm afraid of these answers.
I'm terrified that it's all true; that I've lost whatever it is that made you think I was worth it.
I don't want to lose you but I can't help but think that's what's happening here.