Too Tired for the Future

The future is so important and yet so uncertain. What my life is going to be is up in the air. Who I am now is pathetic. What good is there in any of this? Why do I keep trying? It is one hurdle after the other and nothing ever gets resolved.

I almost had a job today. Now I’m back at square one, and my bones are aching, begging me to just give in and not bother to continue trying.

I just want to be living a fruitful life, not this sad, barren one I have now.

Anxiety Ride

What is there to be said about anxiety that hasn’t been said already? My chest is tight like I have a corset on. I feel weak all over. My mind is telling me that I am not good enough, that this will never work, that I am wasting my time. And yet I’ve put so much effort into today, I can’t turn back. I’m trapped on a terrifying rollercoaster ride. But who knows. I like roller coasters.

I Had You

I dreamt about you all night.
It was as if you were here
And we were together at last
And I felt finally at peace.

In my dream I held you close
And let myself absorb you.
But then as soon as you came
You got away from me.

I woke up and I wondered
Is that what this love will be?
Will I see you in my dreams
Only to lose you to the sun?

Every night a sweet reminder
Of all that I could have
Every morning a sharp retort
That nothing good can last?

Red and Scabby

It’s the day before my first job that actually relies on my physical appearance. I’m interviewing as a promo model, and my job is going to be to be cute and friendly and make people want to buy the product. And today, of course, my face is sunburnt and I have a scab above my lip that looks like I had a cold sore.

Maybe this is what I get for even daring to try a job like this, for daring to think my looks were something I could count on even for a day. I’ve stressed out about this interview for days and I’m scared shitless now. Not only do I feel socially unworthy, but now physically as well.

Ironically, perhaps, I’m my ideal weight. I don’t know if being a butterface is going to get me the job though.

I’m not ready to put myself through this anxiety death trap. Why did I sign up to be judged? I can’t handle that pressure even when it’s just perceived.

I really don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but right now it does not feel good.

Thorns

Another petal falls
She’s crying now
The prince didn’t
Love her back.
Another petal falls
She’s gasping now
A love of hers
Gone from this world.
Another petal falls
She’s shaking now
Clothes aren’t enough
To keep her warm.
Another petal falls
She’s staring now
Her dreams slip away
With the rolling tide.
Another petal falls
She’s burning now
Trying with all she has
To conquer her fear.
Another petal falls
Now the stem lays bare
Time stripped its beauty
But never its thorns.

Heroin Chic

I was told today that I look like a heroin addict. Because my cheeks are sunken and my hands are bony, they said. They’re worried somebody is going to look at me and think they can take advantage of me and my “addiction”.

I can’t stop losing weight. I don’t really know why anymore. I can’t tell if I have any control over it.

I feel like if I really, truly wanted to gain weight, I could do it. It’s easy, isn’t it? You just eat. Eat a lot of food. I bet I could do that. But then why don’t I? I don’t know anymore. I just don’t know.

Some of it is wanting to look a certain way, sure, but it’s evolved into something beyond all that. It’s a lifestyle, an obsession, a compulsion. It’s not a choice, most of the time. It just doesn’t occur to me anymore that I should be eating something.

But then when it does occur to me, my automatic instinct is to think no, I’m not hungry. Or no, I don’t need to eat right now. No, I bet I could last a little longer. No, I’ll feel better if I don’t. No, I bet you could fight through the hunger and win. And that win gives me a tight little shiver inside.

I don’t want to go back to the hospital. Correction, I won’t go back. They can’t make me. But I don’t want it to come to that. I don’t want to be non-compliant. I want to show that I’m trying, even though it’s just in little ways right now.

I bet when I have two jobs and go to school I’ll be too busy and too proud of myself to keep this up. I bet I’ll eat when I’m hungry and my body will fill back out and maybe I won’t like it really but I will care about other things so much more that I won’t have to do anything about it.

I don’t want to look like a junkie. I want to look pretty. I’m ruining myself, and I know it, but I don’t know how to stop.

Somebody save me from this runaway train.

Hurt

I didn’t mean
To hurt her
Please don’t
Hurt me too
I didn’t mean
To make her cry
That’s just
What I do
I wasn’t meant
For love I know
But still
Try I must
I’ve hurt her
In the past before
My efforts
Were only just
I only want
To make you smile
But my oh how
It’s been a while
Since I was able
To bring joy
To someone
That I meet
To bring joy
You see
You must feel
It yourself inside
And I am empty
Lost for words
But still I only
Want your grace
I didn’t mean
To hurt her
But hurt her
I did
Don’t hurt me too