Candidly

It's time for another round of confessions:

• I was once beautiful, and retain prettiness without retaining the white-hot gorgeousness of my peak.
• I feel a strange kinship with Britney Spears. She, too, peaked early and high. She, too, shaved her head in a moment of madness. I was at least as desperate in October 2006 as she was in February 2007.
• I shaved my head first, in case that needs to be clarified.
• I am getting worse.
• My paranoia increases with every day. I am so unstable.
• I am drunk. This may seem to indicate inconstancy on my part, but in fact it indicates truth; were I sober, I would not be able to reveal the extent to which mental illness has devastated me.
• A part of me retains logic, even as the rest of me slowly degrades. It is rather strange to know how irrational my moments of mania are even as I experience them. I'm gone.
• I want to kill myself constantly.
• I have gotten help. Does it help? No.
• None of you know me. So I am free to die. You can't report me at all. BB is free to go crazy.
• I have determined to live through this semester for some arbitrary reason that even I can barely identify anymore.
• My former beauty is a constant torture. I was a god, a beacon of sexual triumph. Goodness, I was so gorgeous. How could I not have known? I was an icon and a giant. I was unsurpassed. The men who lusted for me were right to. How could I not have acted? I hate my younger self for his chastity. I hate him. I HATE him.
• I am practically anorexic in my attempts to achieve that beauty once more.
• The scale can entirely determine how I feel about myself. At 140 I'm a worthless pig. At 120 I'm a laudable object.
• I am a worthless pig. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
• Why is food such a crutch? I'd rather walk crippled.
• In retrospect, I was always going to arrive at this point. Mommy and Daddy and everyone made sure. They made sure. Those bastards.
• It's all reaching critical mass. Can't you see?
• I think about going to law school in terms of "if I live that long."
  
• When I drink I forget and remember at the same time.
• I'm the only one who can save myself. I'm still debating whether I want to.
• I'll starve to be beautiful. Absolutely.
• Sushi and a sandwich is enough for a day, right? It will be.
• Mommy and Daddy are irrelevant but will always remain relevant. Why didn't they love me?
• They did this. If I had my revenge it would be by beating them with bloody fists.
• I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay.
• I have friends now, unlike before. Remember back in 2008? I wrote all those crazy poems. But I'm still loony now, even though I have friends.
• This just goes back to the fact that, beyond a certain point, it was always going to happen.
• Tomorrow is my junk-food day. I will eat so much, and feel so good, but at the same time I'll hate myself.
• I went from 146lbs to 122lbs before and I can do it again. I don't care if I fucking die. Death is better than fatness.
• I can't imagine 146lbs. I want to heckle that fat, 17-year-old BB, who even then was past his short-lived but incredible peak.
• I hate myself for my weight. I want to punch myself.
• Fuck Jeff. Fuck him. He rejected me like everyone else. What makes her so fucking special? Didn't I work my ass off for you? Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you!!!!!!!!!!!!!
• She's a stupid bitch.
• She's better than me. Like everyone else.
• I don't know what to do. I feel I've betrayed Jesus.