I need you now

You told me you told me you'd be there for me. I need you. And you're busy every time I call, every time I try and see you, you're busy.

I didn't do it. I don't know if I even have the balls anymore to hurt myself. I don't even know that it would be possible. I want to.

sigh.

It's been forever since I've written on here. It always is, between posts. I'm still struggling with my weight, still fighting to find time work out; in between class, and work, and studying, and trying to find time to eat and sleep. My life is so hectic, and I want to be 21 and party. I managed to convince my lover of that last weekend, and we went out, and I met a marine- he was with one of my girlfriends- who asked what I preferred instead of beer. Drunkenly I told him that I liked whiskey and whiskey. He came back with well whiskey. So I took a breath, sacked up, and took the shot like a man. Impressed the hell out of him. Anymore I like my liquor to burn. If I can't taste it, I won't feel it, and if I can't feel it, then there's no point to drinking it. I want it to burn, to hurt, and to try and feel the pain I have mentally. The harder I try to hide the way I feel the harder it becomes, the more I hurt, and the more destructive I want to act. I want to cut, to burn my arms again, to get more tattoos, to stop eating and to feel the reassuring feeling of emptiness that I was so accustomed to in high school. I hid it well then... between work and school and volunteering I don't have to eat a single meal with my boy most days. I could hide most of it still. But I don't want to hurt him, and he would be so disappointed in me. I hate seeing him disappointed. I love him so much, and I want to be perfect for him. A perfectly toned body, a perfectly mannered individual, a perfect student. I want everything. For him. He loves me. Says he doesn't want me to change, but I want to be every man's dream... I want to be the girl anybody would be proud to show off.

I keep remembering how good it felt to hold hot metal against my wrist, to see blood running down my leg, how completely in control I felt when I didn't eat for three days. When I controlled the pain and hunger that my body felt, when I could trick my body into believing that I wasn't starving, when it was enough to tell myself that I could do anything. I need to start getting up earlier so that I can put my body through hellacious workouts, I need to take responsibility. And somehow do it without sacrificing the rest of my life.

I am really struggling with life. Between school and work and my boy and trying to find time to work out and eat right I am about ready to snap. It's not my anxiety, it's not depression, it's simply too much. I don't know that I can do this...