Counting and breathing

Chicken soup, fries, burger, salad, pizza... just thinking about every kind of fucking food I'm craving right now. It feels like I'm dying. 90 hours without food now and I'm beyond starving. I'm having tea right now, a new kind that I'm trying out. Green tea that's supposed to taste like strawberry cupcakes. It's not that similar but it's kinda nice anyway. Think I left the bag in too long as well.

I just let my suicide playlist run in the background. Yep, I'm in that kind of mood right now. I'll take Imovane tonight anyway, even though I said I wouldn't. My mother agreed that would be a good thing too. She'll just get me more of those pills when I run out of them.

I'm so tired in my heart. My body aches, but I feel no hunger. Just drowning. 91 hours and counting. Hour by hour until I'm gone or it's just suddenly Friday. I so hope and I'll pray to Satan that I'll reach underweight before then. It would almost be like a dream come true. I'm living on hope and I'll just keep hoping.

I've never been underweight in my entire life before, and finally here's my chance. It's my sweet obsession, my saviour and most definitely my enemy, this eating disorder. I love it and I hate it. It's saving me and ruining my life. I don't think most people could understand that, but I know some might.

The thought hasn't been that far, recently. That I can reach down to 52 kg and live to see it. Then all the people telling me I need to gain weight will actually, at least in a medical sense, kinda be right. But I won't listen to them. All I hear anyway is that I'm being successful but can always lose more weight.

I want more, more, more to fuel my passion. I wonder how much longer I could fast, before crashing. Maybe just a few more days. I'm getting all the more malnourished and my fasting times will get more and more dangerous for my crumbling body. It can't be tortured forever, obviously. I'm in extreme calorie deficit and even other anorexics have begged of me to please fucking eat something.

You know it's bad when they do. I'm not trying to compete with them, I'm only competing with myself, and possibly with my sister but I'm pretty sure my BMI is lower than hers now. Yep, if I calculated her height right, she has a BMI of 21,5 while I'm at 19,1. I'm finally thinner than her, what a success. Does that make me horrible somehow, that I'm comparing myself with her as much as I do?

I don't know why I so obsessively want to be the thinnest of my family members. If maybe it could be because most of them and my relatives are overweight and I'm so scared of ending up like that again. I don't know if I'm feeling better now, or just emptier.

Just holding on to the thought of becoming underweight, let it spin in my head for a while. Having some real tea now, tired of those paper tasting bags. It's some kind of black tea I don't even know what it's supposed to taste like. And I'm like the only one who doesn't "fika" in the mornings at school these days. They keep telling me to have some coffee at least but I don't like drinking coffee unless I can smoke simultaneously. And tea makes me tired so that wouldn't be good.

Woah, 92 hours how did that happen? Soon it's been 4 days and 4 nights. Soon I've broken my old record but then I likely won't break this new one. I need a whole fucking holiday away from school to be able to fast longer than just over a weekend and there won't be any more such holidays this fall. Not until Christmas and then I definitely won't be able to fast.

At least I'm not panicking over my body anymore. That's something. Aha, Evanescence's song "Lithium" is back on Spotify. It's been gone for a while. So surprised to finally hear it. I just recently realised that none of my favourite music groups/artists have released an album since 2012. I wonder where they're all at. Not that I care so very deeply, I've got enough music for my lifetime and I always find more anyways. I really don't mind nagging the same old favourite songs over and over.

I feel there's an ocean inside of me and it's calm right now, at least on the surface. I disappear into an oversized hoodie that once was in my size and into a cup of lukewarm, gently sweetened tea. Light up another cigarette, another burning comfort slowly turning into ashes. My thoughts are on hold, my feelings linger.

I should clean up. Shave, take a shower, wash my hair and hope my blonde stripe won't be defiled by the black dye still on the rest of my hair. Residue from last time I dyed it, always a constant annoyance whenever I wash my hair. I can't afford to re-bleach the blonde stripe again. It would break and be non-existent.

And I leave my hair the way it is now. Its broken messiness reflects my insides somehow. I keep it in a messy middle part, rarely even brush it and just let it fly around in the strong winds always so present on this island. I love this hairstyle, but I wish it was at least shoulder length. That I could feel it gently tickle my cheeks the way I love and hate at the same time. I should have saved it out sooner but it just kept on breaking.

And I wish I didn't hate my body so much. I really do try to see what is positive, what I actually do like. But it's hard and it slips away. I finished my tea and the taste remains only slightly in my mouth, mixed with cigarette smoke. Keeping a careful eye on the numbers telling the time in the lower right corner on my computer screen, wanting the hours to pass a little faster.

Calmer now, but a racing calm that cannot last. I'm always thinking I could die at any moment, is that silly? And the tragedy is that I never do, like Marla Singer says in the movie "Fight Club". Love that movie by the way. The narrator versus Tyler Durden is so me and Anna, and Marla is the most amazing female movie character that I'm aware of. Too bad I can't watch it now. Would be unfocused 5 minutes into it, barely.

Sometimes I miss it, you know, being able to watch entire movies. I can manage a TV-show episode every once in a while, but I really have to force watch it then. Like the last 30 minutes of a 40 minutes long episode. It's hardly even worth it. Oh, did I mention that Marla is played by the actress Helena Bonham Carter? She's definitely one of my favourite actresses.

So, here I am, fantasising about movies instead of watching them cause I no longer can. I'll try though, to go through all of my favourites one by one not too long before I die. Just for the road, so to say. I have no idea what I'll be able to remember from this life by the time it's over. So better try and refresh my memory of things I do want to remember, I mean.

This playlist is literally over 3 hours long, I rarely listen through it all. All 47 songs. It's like coffee for my soul though. Strong, painful, forceful, soothing, agrees with it. And I seek the saddest types of comfort. When I'm dark only darkness can soothe me. I'm a fight fire with fire type of person. Sometimes it even works.

I'm leaving the spaces blank tonight. Won't try to fill the void. Let it rip and tear inside me, I'm not afraid. So used to it by now, I can stay in the moment without fighting it. Just like my shrink always tried to tell me, I don't think she meant it quite this way, with suicide hanging over my head.

Getting all the more tired now. Almost 93 hours now, I should take my sleeping pills and try to gather this day's last thoughts. There, the regular dosage plus one Imovane and 5 Ex-lax. Hopefully the latter will help me with my current weight problem. If I'm just constipated that is.

I'm not overusing laxatives, only take them when I kinda need them. It's a bad thing to get addicted to. But it's a, maybe unknown, fact that starvation and constipation kinda go together. It's not uncommon at all. And isn't it weird that I feel worse when I'm restricting than I do when I'm fasting? Perhaps it's because I don't purge when I'm fasting. Well, I haven't gone as far as to purging liquids yet. Only once though, Bailey's, cause the calories freaked me out.

Past 93 hours now. I should take that shower before my pills kick in, but I don't know if that's safe. Don't really want to risk passing out there. God damn it, when did something as simple as taking a shower become a dangerous task? I'm always afraid of collapsing in my bathroom. So I guess I'll do it tomorrow instead then, shower, I mean. As long as I get it done before Friday I don't really care.

Now I really want to watch "Sucker Punch" but I just fucking can't. Besides it's late and I just took my sleeping pills. Just 4 more songs on the playlist now. I think this will be it for now.