Pessemistic

That's what I am. I have realized this. But I don't know how else to feel. I can't fake happiness right now, I don't have the strength. I can't say that everything is okay, and try to find the bright side. I just can't. Not right now.

To be honest, I've been doing shitty.
I wake up in the morning and cry because I see myself in the mirror, or my reflection in a window, and I hate it. I try so hard to fast and restrict and run and do crunches, and leg lifts, and every exercise I can think of, but it never makes any difference.
I go to school and I can't bring myself to want to do anything but sit in a hoodie and hide. To put in my headphones and just hope that I can make it though another day. Just one day. I go home, and I have to fight the urge to run away. To get out. To do something, anything. I fall asleep crying, and when I wake up in the morning, I have to make myself get out of bed. Sometimes I can't. Sometime I just feel empty. Most of the time, I feel empty. And then I try to starve some more.

I've even tried the opposite, I've tried crash dieting, but it never works. I don't lose the weight. I can't see myself as "okay". I see myself as fat, gross, horrible, selfish, weak, needy, dependent, uncontrollable. It just makes me want to die.
I can't even tell you how many times I've said this. It has become like my script. "I'm fine." all the while inside all I hear is "Fat whore. What the fuck is wrong with you? You're a whale. That's what you are. Look at those thunder thighs, and that stomach. Ugh. You're a whale. The only reason you even have a boyfriend is because he lives far away, and he can't see how fat you've gotten. He can't see how weak you are. I bet he's happy you've stopped talking to him. I bet now he doesn't even have to worry about you. He doesn't need your sorry ass to worry about. Even your dad doesn't want you around. Fat ass."
Every. Single. Day.

I try to combat it, say things like "I love my eyes. Or my legs look good today. But the fact of the matter is - I don't believe it. It is all half hearted, bullshit. I don't believe any of it.
And why should I? The proof is in how much I weigh, how unhealthy I am. The proof is in the mirror. I can't hide there.

I used to be the kind of person that didn't let people in, that kept to herself, relied only on herself. But now I'm not. I miss it more than anything. But I guess I deserve nothing less.

My self harm has gotten worse lately too. I hasn't even stayed at cutting. It's punching things, kicking things (Since I have a broken toe), pushing myself past my limits, etc. I will admit. I've even burned before. I'm not hanging out with people, because all I can do is lie to them. And I don't have the heart for it anymore. I don't want to. So I don't really have friends.

I'm freaking out because I'm doing so bad in school, but it isn't on purpose. I just don't understand it. I try to get help, but I guess I just don't try hard enough.

This is my reality. Nobody here can judge. This is the only place I'm allowed to break down, admit all of this.

I hate being so negative. But there is only so long I can smile and pretend to be happy. I wish I could do something for real, and be happy. But I just can't seem to.

I don't know where to go from here, except down. But it can't even be considered down, because I fail with directions too. I don't want pity, which is why I tell nobody about this. Nobody. The therapist? She blames everything on my hormones, and she doesn't listen to things I say. Not really. So I'm lying about everything to her. The few friends I've made that have supported me through blogging? I can only tell them so much. I don't lie, but I hold things back, because I don't want my negativity to bring them down.

As bad as it sounds, I could deal with hurting, hating myself, etc. if only I could lose weight. But I can't even do that. So there's no point.

I don't know where to go from here.

But this is my reality.