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I have scars EVERYWHERE, which I'm not ashamed of in the least, they're battle scars in a way, but I don't like being looked at like I'm a freak, and even at my thinnest, if the scars weren't there, I wouldn't be comfortable enough with my arms or legs to wear shorts or short sleeves even.
The world is a cruel place. As much as I would NEVER take my own life (due in part to cowardice), I wish it would end. Not in disease, however sudden, nor by accident, but violently...quickly, but violently. Disease brings sympathy, and sympathy sickens me. Accidents cause guilt, and guilt pleads forgiveness. I'm not good at forgiveness, even if it's just for myself...so-called "closure". Violence...doesn't deserve forgiveness, doesn't usually come with guilt, keeps sympathy with those left behind. Anger, unlike suicide, resides with those still living. It's the perfect out. Though, for what it's worth, violence is sort of hard to come by here, unless you go looking for it.
I'm constantly urged to look at food as necessity rather than something bad, weight as "acceptable"...but I can't, how do you just "decide" to accept yourself the way you are? Death is preferable.
At the shower I was asked about our pool, if I liked having it in this heat or something to that effect and I responded with "I don't use the pool"...like being in a bikini in my own back yard is something I might be comfortable with...I was told I'd probably change my mind about not wanting children, from someone I've hardly ever spoken to...People should learn not to assume things.
It's been about 10 months since I cut last, I think that's a new record. I'm trying, with everything I have, to make it to a year, but it's hard. Even tonight I considered it. I felt like destroying something innocent, something as yet un-scarred.
I can't sleep...and there's little to do but sit here and THINK. I have to be up by 6:40am. It's becoming increasingly difficult to be anywhere on time these days.
Having something people are ashamed of having is very lonely (depression, eating disorders, anxiety even). No one talks to each other, we all just suffer in silence, alone. It's preferable I guess...hearing how someone has triumphed over "evil" doesn't make it any less difficult. I think it only makes it harder.