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Have you ever had one of those mind numbing moments where you feel as though you've been ripped from your own center of gravity? Where all of the sudden, what was up is now down, and everything that was right is now so unbelievably wrong? Where you doubt every single component of your so-called life, up to that strained belief that you are in fact okay and sane and normal? Everyone else can nod in understanding all they want, but they never will. The happy smile you wear all day gets hung up at night, and that's when everything takes a drastic turn for the terrifying. Free to think your own thoughts, you can think of nothing else to pass the time but two equally damaging choices: self mutilation or self criticism. One inevitably leads to the other, so in fact, the only choice you seem to be left with is which one will occur first. Why is it that you can never consider yourself good enough? Why is it that you can never let someone hold you in their arms and feel as though you belong there? You are always running, always sprinting full out towards what you believe is the only escape from reality. But that which you consider your escape is also what is hurting you. They are one in the same, and you cannot ever escape it. Because "it" is you. It is your mind, your soul, however damaged and broken, and your heart. Why, for one second, can you not trust your whole being to someone else? Why can you not believe them when they look straight at you and tell you that you are "beautiful just as you are."? Why do you always tell yourself that they don't know the real you? ... If they did, they wouldn't say that...If they only knew, they wouldn't touch me, they wouldn't want to be my friend, they wouldn't want to be close to me. They'd run away form me, just as I am running away from myself. Because I am disgusting. I am nothing. I am not good enough. And no matter how fucking hard I try, I will never be good enough. And that's because I am scared to death of who I really am. There I said it. I have no idea who I am under all this conflict and pain. Am I anyone important without an eating disorder? Am I worth caring about if I'm not sick? Do I matter? No. Because in this day in age, being happy just isn't cool anymore. Anyone who is anybody has to be a tortured soul. I mean, you can't get on the Real World or Oprah without at least that. It makes me interesting. It takes the attention off of the side of me that everyone gets so tired of. The horse loving, dancing eyed, girl who is just plain boring. :::Sigh::: I started this thing with what I thought was a purpose, but now I'm just writing to write. I can't wait til my counselor hears about this, I just might get TWO stickers this week for writing instead of puking when I got upset. Weee. I'm seriously fine guys, just ranting like usual. Don't worry, my smile will be back on by tomorrow.