Make It Stop.

I just want it to stop. I want to just have one thing in my life that I don't hate. I ate about 10 bits of small curly pasta today, nothing on them, and I feel like I've failed. I want my hair to stop falling out before I go bald. I want to stop having head aches all the time.

Just make it go away. please. :'( I try and try and I just seem to look bigger and bigger, no way am I going to stand on the scales for fear I'll commit suicide.

I want to be sick. So fucking sick that I have to live in a hospital bed, I'll know then who really cares about me because they'll come and see me and send me cards and beg me to put on weight.

My friend *Holly* has been anorexic since I've known her, she's so tiny. She had to go to hospital recently, her friends went and saw her, send her cards, sent her loving messages on facebook. I want to be her. :(

I just want to be so skinny and sick, I want to be on the verge of death.

I think I'm terrified of growing up, I want my body to be small and flat chested like that of a child, and I want the attention that a child gets when they're sick. I want to be sick. How many times can I say it?

Anyone who believes in Karma, is an idiot. Either that or Karma is just unfair, which kind of ruins the whole point. I've always hated my body, since I was around six or seven, what could an innocent six year old possibly do to deserve wanting to starve themselves for their whole childhood, and teenage years? What did I do to have my hair fall out accept for worry about my Mum and my boyfriend, that's what I get stressed about, worrying. And my caring for others some how is balanced out by having a bald patch on the side of my head at six-teen years old.

Every time I write a post on Blogger, firstly I think "Make it short, or else no one will read it." Then I think. "Who cares it's your blog?" and then finally I get to the end and realise "No one will read it anyway. Because no one gives a fuck you fat little piggy."

Dear God, or... whoever, please make me thin, even if I regret it in the end. Just let me have a taste of perfection, let me drown in it, let it kill me if you must. Let me have something.