my therapy starts in two weeks and i haven’t been since fifth grade. three years. have i gotten better at all? how bad have i gotten since? i don’t eat anymore. starving is a habit. I drink a twelve pack of diet coke a week. what the fuck is wrong with me. we’re almost out of water because of me. the tap is contaminated; my parents tell me. if it is, i want to die. i haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. you can run. i’m going skating with him on friday and i haven’t been in three weeks. i still need to break in my new skates. i’m gonna fall. i scream photo op. i’m gonna get skinny. skinny. skinny. skinnyskinnyskinny. thin. all i want to be. pretty. dainty. petite. boys tell me i’m pretty and girls have told me they’re jealous, but i don’t see it. people say they want my body, but where? all i am is fatfatfatfat. i miss lexi. i hope she misses me. am i depressed. i’m suicidal, but does being that and having depression come hand in hand? if i’m suicidal does that mean i’m depressed? i’m an honors student. perfect attendance. perfect grades. perfect. shitty home life. my parents are fake to my friends. he hasn’t hit me in two years but it still hurts. my mother is sick and has been since i was born. both physically and mentally. i want to be okay. okayokayokay. he called me babe today and i got so happy. he’s a senior. quite a bit older than me, but i feel older than him. i’m not even allowed to date him because of age, but i don’t care. mineminemine. he is my reason for staying. he is my reason to live. thank you.