But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sanely Insane I am still here. Still locked up. Is it by choice? Or is it because I am too afraid of what they will say if I leave? Or is it because I actually want to escape Hell? I do want to escape Hell. But I also need to punish myself. To beg forgiveness. For all the atrocities I have committed. One could say that what I have done to myself is an atrocity, but I see it as only a salvation for the others. The ones who I have tortured. But I also want to get better. I am so confused. I am so scared. I feel like I am going nowhere. Every meal brings dread. I feel my body growing in mass. I step on the scale in the mint toothpaste colored gown, and it only confirms what I already know, but still hope is my distorted vision; I have gained weight. Every time I weigh in. The doctors have no answer except to tell me it is edema. That my body has been through a tremendous amount of abuse, and will take a long time to recover. And I am enraged at my body. I want to starve, run laps, vomit everything in my system, burn my flesh... Make my body understand that it must comply with my mind's wishes. But the body does not know the mind. So I must get better. To be something. But can I be good to myself and to others? I know not. I must go upstairs. Back to the unit. Back to the cage. I must get better. I am moving on to 1,000 days inpatient. I have been locked up most of my adolescent life. Am I insane? Or are the sane the insane? 9:53 p.m. - 2004-05-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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