August 4, 2002
And I Don't Want The World To See Me

I don't quite know what's happening to me. I feel like I'm changing dramatically. I want to die. I don't want to kill myself. I just... don't want to wake up.

I can't sleep, though. For the past few days, my sleeping schedule has been skewed to an uncomfortable 5-6 hours at most. But generally I wake up ever hour or two in a panic. I don't eat either. The people at work think I'm anorexic, because any day I'm there, I just end up not eating. Sometimes they force me to eat by giving me their extra food. And as I eat it, I struggle not to just puke it all back.

I cry myself to sleep every night. I have for about 2 weeks now. I curl up in a ball in the corner of my bed, pulling at my hair, and crying. Always cradled in the crook of my elbow is my grandmother's old stuffed dog, which is actually perched next to me as I type. It's expression is so sad that just looking at it makes me cry. It looks distraught, nothing will ever be right again for him. My scalp aches from yanking my hair for hours. My arms have red scrapes up and down them from scratching at nothing but skin. Because I felt I deserved it.

I don't like how my tears are falling on the keyboard. One on "," and one between "d" and "f". I want to stop crying. I want to stop fidgeting and clawing at myself, and ripping apart my bedspread in pure frustration. But there is no other outlet. What else can I take it all out on?

I'm scratching at my face now, leaving brutal red lines, like little roads for my tears to travel down. It's not even painful anymore. If these don't go away in time for work, I don't know how I'll explain them. Maybe they'll fade away.

I should quit my job. It just adds to everything. My heart wouldn't race like that if there was no stress. I didn't want my summer to be like this, to be more stressful that school. Which makes me wonder - which would I rather go through, work or school? Because the thought of school frightens me, and I don't know how I'm going to get through. If I'm going insane during my off time, how will I make it? How? I won't have a shoulder to lean on. I don't trust any of your shoulders. There is no one who I can always count on. I have no one.

I checked the mirror. My doleful reflection sobbed. The red lines had faded. I tried to make them darker. I did not have a reason for doing so. I felt that they needed to be. I stop crying every once in a while. But there is a form next to me, for the Children's Hospital Boston. And then I cry. Because among the black, Times New Roman, pre-typed sentences is a bright blue, hand-written personalized phrasing: "12/03/02". And I cry.

I don't want to wait until December. That's not fair. I have an emergency, and I have to wait until December for it. But I have already bottled that information down, keeping it in my memory. I don't want to forget that date. It could be the turning point for me. I counted today. I have seen at least 13 doctors since last August. I'm glad I'm not telling this to people individually. Then I would have to know your opinions. And it would probably make me sadder.

I need to see my psychologist. I just pulled out a lot of hair. I'm crying again, because I don't know what is wrong with me, and why I keep doing this to myself. I'm glad no one can see me like this. If I don't know how to react to what I'm doing to myself, how would you? I'm going to go curl into the corner of my bed again, and hope I don't wake up. Wouldn't that be sad? I didn't think so either...

- Molly{12:58 am}

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