I am the shadow on the moon at night

There are few who deny, at what I do I am the best
For my talents are rnowned far and wide
When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night
I excel without ever even trying
With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms
I have see grown men give out a shriek
With a wave of my hand and a well-placed moan
I have swept the very bravest off their feet

Yet year after year, it's the same routine
And I grow so weary of the sound of screams
And I, Jack, the Pumpkin King
Have grown so tired of the same old thing

Oh, somewhere dep inside of these bones
An emptiness began to grow
There's something out there, far from my home
A longing that I've never known

I'm a master of fright and a demon of light
And I'll scare you right out of your pants
To a guy in Kentucky, I'm Mister Unlucky
And I'm known throughout England and France

And since I am dead, I can take off my head
To recite Shakespearean quotations
No animal nor man can scream like I can
With the fury of my recitations

But who here would ever understand
That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin
Would tire of his crown, if they only understood
He'd give it all up if he only could

Oh, there's an empty place in my bones
That calls out for something unknown
The fame and praise come year after year
Does nothing for these empty tears

- The Nightmare Before Christmas

I feel so fucking lost... Not just waiting for my results to see if I’ve got into second year, not just having nothing structured to do, its being at home, I don’t belong. I don’t think I am the daughter my parents wanted me to be, I had a four year gap between finishing my A-Levels and starting university and during that time they ‘had to look after me’, put up with my illness, visit me in hospital, take me back and forth to endless appointments. I was a burden to them, ruined their retirement, and there are times that the guilt I feel about all that is fucking immense. But right now I am so angry at their attitude towards me, especially towards my weight.

My mother repeatedly tells me that I ‘let myself go’, constantly rubs her three stone weight loss in my face, constantly refuses to eat whilst we are out, shouts at me when I try to help or when I try to explain how much it is effecting me and the way I feel about my body and about food and weight generally.

Yesterday was a terrible day. I woke up and my Mum said, blunt and heartless, “have you been on the laxatives again’, I was offended (because I am putting in so much effort at losing weight in a healthy way and she fucking knows that) and when I told her no she just said ‘well, I don’t care if you do””

I couldn’t get my shit together, I went to bed because sleep usually helps but it wouldn’t come, I took 50mg+ of ‘illicit’ Valium, all of my Seroquel PNR and my usual doses of Cymbalta/Seroquel. I slept for hours but when I woke up I was starving hungry, binged like a mania and threw up out of my window, went back to sleep, nightmares nightmares nightmares that I couldn’t wake up from, hitting myself and pinching myself didn’t work, I didn’t know if I was asleep or not, if I was dreaming or not. I ‘dreamt’ that I cut my breast and then when I woke up covered in blood.

This afternoon I got back from swimming 2.5km and my mother asked me if I was ‘going to go back tonight?’

I just feel so fucking lost, like all my struggles have been for nothing, like my parents want me to weigh 97lbs again and be hospitalised. I know those thoughts are irrational and over the top yet at the same time I do honestly feel like they’re enabling and encouraging my disordered thoughts, and it’s hard a-bloody-nough to fight the thoughts that come from my own head, let alone other people’s.

I need to watch some Christopher Eccelston Doctor Who, I miss him!