One step forward

I'm listening to Marillion again. All my favourite songs from the 1980's. Having a second cup of coffee for today at 21:25 and it puts me at 44 calories so far today. I put my hood on for more heat and light up yet another cigarette. I feel alright, almost content, right here in this very moment. My stomach is silent and doesn't hurt. I haven't eaten for almost 24 hours.

My contact person of the crew was just here. She cleaned my dirty dishes and I cleaned up the junk around my computer, the stove and in the bathroom. It's our usual routine, to just get the disgustingness away. She told me to put a cup of apple cider vinegar where all my flies where collecting so that they'll drown in that. I hope it helps cause they're crazy many, collecting around my garbage bin.

She did notice that it wasn't so much dirty dishes this time but I lied my way out of it. I can't make my eating disorder public like that again. Not until it's so obvious that there's no point in hiding it anymore. When I've lost enough weight for people to start noticing. Maybe 5 kg isn't enough, but I'm pretty sure that 10 will be. Not that I want their attention, just saying that it will be unavoidable and the way I'll deal with it is to come clean about my eating disorder and its relapse.

Not that I'll ever agree to recover again, but I'd be open about what I'm doing to myself, at least to some degree. It's just a matter of time. If I can lose 5 kg in 2,5 weeks then I can lose 10 in a month. And I'll reach my ultimate goal weight of the terrifyingly low weight 44 kg in less than 2 months. Perhaps a little more if I plateau or if the weight loss suddenly starts going slower. But no more than 3 months I think. I'll get my anorexia diagnosis and start a circus when literally everyone around me will try to convince me to recover but I'll keep refusing.

I want this to kill me and I'll fucking practice what I preach. I'm not a hypocrite, I'm a man who lives by his words. At least the words I spew out on this blog. It's the closest to the true and honest me anyone can get these days. If I say here I'll refuse recovery to my last breath then that's what I will do. I won't change my mind if it gets scary, it's already gotten scary. I'm living through symptoms that would have scared me back to eating before, but now instead I just sleep with my underwear on in case I'll die in my sleep.

All my organs are at risk, but I think my heart is taking the largest hit. I've had heart problems before, when I took that massive overdose in August 2011 and I can't know for sure if it ever repaired completely or not. I don't know if I actually have heart arrhythmia right now, but chances are I could have. And I just don't care. In fact I celebrate it as a first little step towards my death. I hope it is so, and maybe I'm scared of going to the doctor cause I'm scared they'd just say it's absolutely nothing.

That nothing is wrong with my heart and I'm "over reacting" over petty things that aren't dangerous in the least. Or that there actually is something wrong with my heart and they'll fix it. Fuck that would almost be even worse. If there's anything wrong with my heart I want that to get so fucking bad that there's literally nothing that anyone can ever do. Except from possibly give me a new heart but I'd politely decline in that case.

But would they even donate organs to a suicidal person with an eating disorder? And all the rest that I'm afflicted with? I doubt that, but I'm young so you never really know. Nah I don't think I'm close enough for these thoughts to even be on the table yet, but you know me, always thinking far ahead. Just trying to imagine it in an attempt to figure out how I would deal with it if that ever became my reality.

Like Winona Ryder once said, if it exists, I've likely thought about it. All the problems I've ever caused or intended to cause myself, I think them through. Analyse every possible consequence and how I would possibly deal with it. I know it's not a very healthy thing to do, and neither is the constant thought of suicide one way or another doing me any good.

But it is what it is and I've always lived my life this way. Suicide has more or less been on my mind since I was 4 years old, and I know that thought is there to stay. Letting my eating disorder take my life has really been an interesting way for me. It's given me the opportunity of a whole lot of reflection, analysing, documenting and dissecting.

It feels like I've put myself in a lab and I'm investigating everything. Or like watching a favourite movie again for the 17th time. There's no doubt that I'm obsessed with suicide, almost as much as I'm obsessed with my eating disorder. I wouldn't say that I'm exactly obsessing about K anymore. Perhaps I am, but to me, I'm just really in love and he's my world.

Those three things are taking up a lot of the space in my mind these days: suicide, eating disorder and K. Without them I would without a doubt be very bored. Those thoughts both comfort and ruin me. Sometimes they mash together and confuse me a lot too. Like especially suicide mashes with my eating disorder, perhaps for obvious reasons, and whenever I think about suicide I can't leave K out of the picture.

Scared of hurting him with my death, scared that I'm already hurting him. Don't know how much of my blog posts here and on tumblr he actually reads, if he knows this is my suicide. I couldn't tell him straight to his face, but he could figure it out.

Cause it's not exactly a secret but if it's something I really hate it's hurting him. Whatever it's about. But I can't live for him, it doesn't work that way. I could, for months, even years, but then I just couldn't anymore. I can't live for anyone but myself, and I have no reasons to live, nothing holding me here. I'm just lost, trying to find my way home again. And I'm sorry for everyone I'm hurting/will hurt, but yeah. It's the only way I can live, by not living.

Right now, I'm not even trying to survive. I'm trying to die, but slowly. That's why I even allow myself to eat sometimes, cause I still have a bunch of months left and I'm not really done yet. I'm holding my breath, cause I know that the moment I'll breathe in the water will drown me.

A part of me still holds on for K, and my family, my best friend. Cause it's not only K that I'm worried about hurting, it's more people than that inside my heart.

I even think about you too, Y. You've gotten deep enough into my heart for me to care about you, even though I sometimes really suck at showing it. But I know you know.

I think I needed the distance from you, as I find myself caring more and more about you the further you are. I'm still not sure exactly what happened with me, what made me want to abandon you, but I know that taking that decision was too rushed and I should have thought about it more before making it. I know I still kick myself for things I don't really need to be kicking myself for. What good does that do? It's better to move on, with life, death or whatever lies ahead of me.

There are still things I'm trying to understand about myself and the decisions I've taken. Still things I can't wrap my head around. And I try not to kick myself bloody, I try to stop the spinning circles of thoughts in my head, but I know since before that never works. So instead I just try to let it be, let it sink in on its own. Let time decide, and let time help me eventually understand.

Why I lied to you, why I tried to deceive you, why I said I wanted to abandon you forever only to realise like two days later that that wasn't true. I'm trying my best to be honest here and since you became my shadow, I try to not fuck it all up again. And somehow I feel that I'm not going to. I hope that finally, I've learned my lesson.

Of course it's always more complicated than that, but it's the best way I can explain it right now. My thoughts leave me quicker than they come, I have to type fast and sometimes, or rather quite often, I miss out on a lot. But it's how my mind moves and I do have a hard time tagging along. It doesn't matter if I write in Swedish or English, I'm pretty much equally good at explaining in both. Or equally bad, however you want to put it.

However, where was I? Trying to fit in a lot in just one entry here. I know I can probably end it like that but I'm just not feeling done yet. I have so much going on inside my skull right now and I just need to get it out of me. Right now it's giving me some kind of borrowed energy that I have no explanation for. I just feel it rushing out through my fingers as I type and it feels never ending.

I still haven't eaten so my guess is this energy comes from somewhere inside of me, or magically from outside but that's less likely, I guess. Still I believe in the kind of magic that supposedly doesn't exist in this world. That I brought some of it with me from Dala, but very very little of it. If I had thousand kilos of it back there, I'm carrying less than a gram of it now, here in this life.

And I think I'll always believe in that magic, and other kinds of magic, even though all my dreams are dead. I'm not sure exactly what killed them, if it was me or something external. Or just suddenly knowing that neither of my dreams were ever possible to begin with. I wanted to believe in the fairy tales, that such endings could be real. They can, for some people, but I've never had that in me.

I guess I'm okay with it, as long as this is my end. If I'd have to live until I'm 80 I really wouldn't be okay with it. It's alright, living without dreams for a few more months though. I think I can manage that. After all, I don't have any other choice either. Dreams are like the spice of life, aren't they? I guess my life is pretty tasteless then, but it's still a life.

Oh damn... this song was exactly what I needed to hear. I lost track for a little while as I started to sing along and shiver all over. I think I need to stop now, but I've been thinking a lot while writing this text, I think I moved yet one step forward. I move so fast these days, starving really puts me on edge as does my prophecy and in a way, I'm finally actually living my life fully. Every day as if I'll die tomorrow. Like I've always preached but never really knew how to. I'm just letting go, not pushing anything (well, almost), just letting my mind steer me in whatever direction it wants me to go. We'll see where I'll end up, but it's the journey that matters and not the end, I know that much.