I feel like I'm dying again. There is always a bridge that I have to cross over to get to that god forsaken place. Once I do, I'm trapped again. I depend so much on those around me to make me happy. Which of course, is complete bullshit. I am the only one who controls my emotions. To say that everything else is "responsible" for my misery is bullshit. I am responsible. I will always admit that. Even when put down, forced to do something I'd rather not, or looked down upon - I am the one who controls how I feel. I am the one who chooses to carry my burdens. I choose not to let them go.

Now once again I feel like all I have is this drawing feeling inside of me, just nudging me to return to my facade - the place that fools everyone. The place where I will purposely stop frowning, and only smile and laugh - when inside I'm dying. The place where I don't allow my eyebrows to arch downward, where I don't allow my lips to pout. This is the place where I'm able to convince myself that my suffering doesn't exist.

I am about ready to dive in. I just want to disappear, my body to vanish, quickly, efficiently. I've put on lbs. all over, covering my bones, covering my muscle, a thick seal around my body which exists for the sole purpose of keeping me alive. My body understands who I am - my body knows that I fall back into deep depression and suddenly go from eating like a person who could give a shit less about their diet, to someone so strict and rigid that nothing in the world could change me. Therefore, it prepares and stores for the times when I fall.

In essence, this body is all I am. It's all anyone can see. It is my image. It is what lies. It is what convinces the world that I am confident, happy, cheerful, and full of care and concern for others. It's all fake, and it will always remain fake. Hell, give me some fake tits. Some smartlipo in the lower abdomen. Fuck up what God gave me and turn me into Hollywood's new born child.

Right now I feel like a hollow shell. I feel alone. I sit here and type and watch the words appear on the computer screen. Pretty amazing. Huh? I hope and pray that I can only make him love me and look at me the way I want him to. Without going to some bangbros or some porn site for tools. I am so deeply sorry, but I can't help it. I do not have any fucking trust. I've been through this same fucking scenario before. I know that shit is so fucking easy to hide. I'm educated in behavioral psychology for fucks sake.

We all follow patterns. It is very rare that we change these patterns. If we are good liars, we tend to remain good liars. If we are good at keeping the truth from people (especially those we love), it tends to remain that way, correct? So if a person tends to keep the truth from those he/she loves and could easily get away with murder, what would be enough for that person to change? Avery negative consequence. Not just some teary eyed girlfriend sad about seeing some stupid fucking amateur porn. Behavioral Psych gave me a very grim view of humanity. However, the older I get, the further I've strayed from having any sort of spirituality or hope in humanity. I will always worry that I am not good, perfect, or beautiful enough. I don't know if I'll ever find hope within myself.

When I think about this god forsaken eating disorder that haunts me every single day, all I see is an empty casket waiting for me. The severity, the depths that I've reached before,