...

"I think I have four distinct worst memories. I don't know if they're truly my worst, but they're things I remember most. The first was when I found my mom with her wrists cut up." 

Look towards the west again, to the hazy full moon. 

"My dad was yelling at her and I didn't know what to do because I didn't know how to react to someone that was in that much pain. My second was when she wanted to kill herself and she was going to leave me at one of the rest stops on the interstate with the phone so that I didn't have to be in the car when she did it and I could call someone to get me." 

He squeezed me tighter. 

"My third was when my friend told my mom that I was being abused and my cousin called the house and asked why I was saying that." 

Squeezed even tighter. 

"My last one was when I was about 16 and I was about to be hospitalized and I looked in the mirror and saw how disgusting I looked, how bony."

Quiet. 

"Oh, and the time I laid in bed begging God to let me cry. I maybe made two tears." 

I went with my older friend to pick up her daughter. She was drunk and upset. 

At thirty, this isn't what she thought her life would be. 

I look around and I see so much pain and it breaks my heart because I can do nothing. I try so hard but you can't do anything but help ease the pain.

"Sometimes I  wonder how there's so much brokenness in the world. We can't fix it. We just exist." 

"We have free will." 

"It seems like we always end up using it to pick what hurts us. I just want to help everyone, but I can't." 

I tried to break up with my boyfriend tonight. 

He knew it was coming and he was upset and he was talking about things that didn't particularly relate to the situation. I told him we weren't compatible and so he was trying to say where he was coming from.

I've heard it before. 

A million times actually. 

He has this way of skimping over what I want to say until the very end when I'm too tired and I'm done listening. 

I tried to tell him that I love him but don't think we're compatible, that I don't think things will change. 

Words got stuck. 

Heart ached from the inevitable.

So I went to the liquor store and found a huge bottle of Zinfandel for $10.99.

Does it help the situation? No. 

Sometimes you just get tired of thinking and hurting. 

Sometimes you get tired of hurting others. 

I don't know why, stress I guess, but the last two days have made my disorder come back into swing. 

Pinching thighs. 

Feeling shoulders. 

Collar bones. 

It doesn't seem like the situation is going to resolve easily and all I want to do is reach 122. 

I hate my skin, my choices, my body, my heart. 

Sometimes I feel like I let you guys down when I fall back into it. I'm usually more positive. 

I just hate myself for various reasons or I feel disappointed that I couldn't do more or be more positive.

Or stronger.

Sometimes I feel like I was made for this moment and wouldn't know how to transition into healthy living if I tried.

I know that's false thinking, just what's available due to not know what the future holds.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to try and shed the extra pounds. God knows I've been caring more than just excess skin. 

Sometimes I get tired of existing. Sometimes I just want to do it the right way.