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But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast.

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Perceverance into Darkness

Today has possibly been one of the worst days of my life.

I went to the GI doctor. They want to run a bunch of tests. The doctor thinks I either have pollups in my lower intestine, or colon cancer. O joy, a tube up my ass, down my throat, etc... My pulse was also 136 so my heart is acting up again. Time for another echo. Time to start the weekly EKGs.

Then I went to school. I got an 88% on my Econ. test. I was very dissapointed in myself. That dragged my grade down to an A-. I haven't recieved a B in two years.

Cindy is leaving tomorrow. She cannot stand my house. All my mother does is complain, yell, and make everyone feel bad for her problems. I feel terrible. She hasn't been eating. I binged. I feel like I binged to compensate for her not eating. I must have eaten around 15,000 calories. I didn't purge, but I feel so sick that I am shaking.

I need prescription refills. I tell my mom, and I see the bitterness cross her face. She never lets me forget that my medical bills are over two million dollars. I am rationing my medication, and have been for quite some time. She looks at me and all she sees is a black hole that sucks up money.

Finally, all hell fell through. My brother started in on my laptop. "Mom, when am I getting my laptop?"

He has a VCR, DVD player, TV, surround sound system, couch, and some very expensive decorations.

"Fine, You can have mine when it comes." I said this with a hatred so deep my blood boiled black.

"No, I want my own."

I shattered the picture of me and my brother in the hallway. Glass flew everywhere. I grabbed the photo and ripped me out of it. A plethora of swear words flew in my direction. I began to calmly clean it up, but our repairman, poor guy, asked me what was wrong, and I near tears, told him how all my mom does is yell at me for my medical bills, though she doesn't have to pay for them, and acts daft towards that fact that my brother is a small time drug dealer, fails classes, instigates everything. He told me he would clean it up, and praised me for my grades.

I went into my room. I grabbed a lancet, yanked down my pants, and ripped it across my thigh. Thick, dark blood surfaced. I created twelve lacerations. I sat there, contemplating ending it all with Tylenol and Vodka, just as J and Cindy walked in. They consoled me, then saw the blood leaking through my pants. They made me show them. They understood. I lay there in a daze as J painted my toenails.

I would have killed myself if it wasn't for Tali. I am moving in with her in December. I will cling to every last bit of life in me, dance in shards of glass, watch the bile spill out between my lips, ridding me of all anger.

I will not die. I will hang on.

My room is the epitome of all the evil that has tormented every soul that has been in my shadow. No one will sleep in it, no one will stay in it alone.

It is the dying room.

I will not die there.

10:49 p.m. - 2003-09-16
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