So Many Means Of Self-destruction, So Little

And So I Am Feeling Numb. It's A Curious Feeling, And I Get It All The Time. My Attention To The World Around Me Disappears, And Something Starts To Hum Inside My Head. Far Off, Voices Try To Bump Up Against Me, But I Repel Them. My Ears Fill Up With Water And I Focus On The Humming In My Head.

For Me, The First Sign Of Oncoming Madness Is That I'm Unable To Write.

In Her Presence, I Was Reminded Again Of Why I Was An Anoretic: Fear. Of My Needs, For Food, For Sleep, For Touch, For Simple Conversation, For Human Contact, For Love. I Was An Anoretic Because I Was Afraid Of Being Human. Implicit In Human Contact Is The Exposure Of The Self, The Interaction Of The Selves. The Self I'd Had, Once Upon A Time, Was Too Much. Now There Was No Self At All. I Was A Blank.

The Term “starvation Diet” Refers To 900 Calories A Day. I Was On One-third Of A Starvation Diet. What Do You Call That? One Word That Comes To My Mind: “suicide.

I Have A Remarkable Ability To Delete All Better Judgement From My Brain When I Get My Head Set On Something. I Have No Sense Of Moderation, No Sense Of Caution. I Have No Sense Pretty Much.