Well, I don't want to fucking eat, 'cause it's all just gonna end up in the toilet any way - which my mother know very well. She commented on the toilet not flushing properly after my last purge. I don't want to dance around a fucking tree, holding hands, singing songs. I don't want to spend hours of watching what other people get for Christmas. I - DON'T - FUCKING - CARE! Why doesn't anyone in my family seem to realize this?!
I want to have a nice Christmas, just me and my boy. Who is Rasmus now, yes, but this is just a general dream. I want to make a light, lovely Christmas dinner together the man I love, and have fun with it. We'll eat, and laugh, and we'll drink too much alcohol, and we'll have a fucking nice time doing it. Then, we'll open presents together. Then there's sex. And at the end of the night, we'll cuddle on the couch, watching some cheesy Christmas movie. And when we go to bed, we will fall asleep in each others arms. That would be the perfect Christmas.
I don't wanna go to sleep alone tonight.
My life has never felt as sad as it does right now. I have never in my entire life felt so lonely, so depressed, so fucking helpless.
I'm sitting here, in my room, on Christmas eve, alone. Smoking a cigarette, listening to depressing music. Knowing I'm about to eat a bunch of food I don't want, food I won't enjoy, and then go throw it all up again. Nobody's texting me. Nobody's even thinking about me.
I'm sitting here, in my room, on Christmas eve, alone. Crying...
Why do we do this to ourselves loves? Why do we always insist on being miserable, on being depressed and alone. We pull ourselves away from the people who loves us, so that we can run around and say "I'm all alone, it's so hard, feel sorry for me". Why?
Because we don't deserve any better. We don't deserve happiness, so we keep a distance to anything that can make us happy. We don't deserve anyone loving us, so we let go of the people in our lives. We don't deserve fucking shit. But we don't deserve to die either. That's too fucking easy. So we walk around, empty and broken, just fighting to get through day after fucking day. We're nothing but empty shells. We're not dead, physically, yet we feel so dead inside. And no one understands. No one but the people who have tried it themselves, can possibly understand our pain. They can't see it.
We all just want someone to see us.
To save us, while there's still something left to save.
Merry Christmas guys.
I hope you're doing better than me.
No matter what,
Stay strong, think thin, be beautiful!