Scattered

I just didn’t know what to say. I just feel like words cannot express these feelings. My voice is gone, and it just kills me. It kills. I sang in front of my entire youth group on Sunday night. Libby attended. Promptly afterward, my voice finished disappearing. It was on the way out, but now, well, I’m never gonna be a singer. And that’s okay, I guess. I can still be an author. I just wish that I could lose the weight I need to. I’m so fucking fat, and at the same time I look at myself and am happy every time I see more sharply defined ribs, when I’m able to grab my hip bones, when I can feel the hunger curling into my stomach. I am happy being anorexic. (God, that’s an ugly word)
I don’t want to let go of my dreams of being thinner, my dreams of being a singer, my dreams of being love, my dreams of having children.
But alas, I must.

I’m trying to be a better Christian, but its hard to wrap my head around someone loving me so much that they would die for me. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand anyone loving me. I’m really down right now. I’m such a fake. I pretend to be anorexic, but I’m not even skinny. I lie to everyone; I act like I’m such a badass.
I should fucking die.
I don’t deserve all of the kindness shown to me; I don’t deserve all the compliments. I deserve every second of embarrassment, every second of sadness, of pain, hurt, and hatred towards me. Every ill will towards me, every snide comment, every bad grade, every smack and kick and punch, I deserve.
I deserve to die.
I just want to go to sleep and never wake up.