Wishful thinking

Sunday: 306 kcal. Monday: 300 kcal. Tuesday: 112 kcal. Wednesday: 64 kcal. I don't know where this is gonna end, and I don't care. The last two days are only the sugar I have in my tea, cause I haven't eaten. I don't know if I'm ranting this as a means of trying to get my senses back, or if I'm just fascinated. Might be both. I think it's safe to say I'm on a little thing commonly called a downward spiral, though I might be wrong. Cause I feel indifferent. My body aches for solid food and sometimes my stomache rumbles, but my mind is as clear(?) as ever. In fact, I feel more energetic and alert. Maybe it's because I have this insane feeling of excitement when I'm counting hours without food and dreadfully stepping on that scale every day to see if the numbers have changed. It just feels so good to be hungry for hours, days and nights in a row, that pain... my sweet, sweet pain. Maybe that's why I feel so calm, I need pain to feel calm, and what better way than to have it constantly and under my complete control?

It feels like I can't even grasp the degree of insanity I've recently reached. At least I'm aware of what's going on and the risks I take, and just because of that I declare myself insane. I've often wondered if perhaps I'm one of the most self aware persons with psychiatric diagnoses. But alas, I'm also a hypochondriac in that area. I believe I have at least ten different psychiatric conditions, and the list is only getter longer as the years progress. I constantly ask my therapist, psychiatrist or doctor: "do you think I have dysthymia?" or "I think I might hade ADD" or whatever. They all look at me like I'm nuts. They seem to think "you already have borderline, asperger, transsexualism and depression and you still think you have this one too?!" I believe it's a rare form of hypochondria, cause I haven't yet found another one like that. I suppose I just like to collect labels. Perhaps what started that was my parents complete rejection to any kinds of labels.

Well that's just typical me... What's wrong with being normal? I want to be normal! Please, if anyone have an instructional manual on how to be normal, don't hesitate to give me a call. I mean it. I'm tired of being so fucking weird I can't even go unnoticed wearing bland and boring, H&M clothing in the middle of Uppsala at rush hour. I just want to blend in... I want to be able to blend in. I even tried giving up on looking goth cause I just can't take all those people staring anymore. I don't want that, trust me, I love looking goth! Just adore those bloodred dress shirts, sister of mercy t-shirts, black leather coat, my Invader boots and I do have long hair dyed black for a reason. I just want to have that upportunity that most people who has an alterative choise of clothing. That they can just put on a pair of blue jeans, a yellow t-shirt and a cap on their head and nobody would even glance at them taking a walk to the corner store for groceries. Cause I don't have that opportunity. It doesn't matter what I wear.

I've been a freak for a lifetime, I hate people and their stupid ignorant questions. They either ask if I'm going to a funeral, if I'm in pain, if I'm a guy or a girl, sad, angry, high, drunk, lazy, stupid and even the attention I get when someone accidentally see what I'm drawing bugs me. Why can't just people leave me the fuck alone!? I'm wearing a track suit on my way to the corner store to buy milk and I don't want to answer if I'm high or not!

I don't know what to do. I don't think there is anything I can do. My weirdness is glowing in neon. To think, when I was a kid I craved to different, to be special. Be careful what you're wishing, it might just come true.