I've gone through so many events in my life that sometimes, well most of the time I can hardly keep them straight. The only thing that has ever stayed constant in my life has been God, even thoguth I didn't believe in God until fourth grade doesn't matter to me, I've still gone ot church almost every Sunday of my life.

I've gone on strike again, such a wonderful thing to do in a time like this. I've gone on a strike for never voting. I see no point in it if it is the electoral college's vote. I am a democratic, I think, and if I ever become an active deomocrat I will run for president. I'm also on strike with food. Last year, around this same time, I weighed about 136 with a body fat of 22%. Today, in health we  measured it again. I'm about 127 pounds and have a body fat of 26%. Now this really hurts my pride and my self-esteem. But, it has made my will stronger. Every day that I can I will post a list of foods. That is what I have eaten for the day.

A two by three square cookie, 'bout a cm tall if anyone cares to know.
A 20 ox bottle of apple juice.
A glass of grape cranberry juice.
A chocolate shake from McDonalds...I thouroly enjoyed eating that one
And two small cookies from a bag in a vending machine.

I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm so lost in this world that I don't know where to go, it's hard to keep up with what I am doing, it is hard to understand all that I am taking in. The election this years is making me go baszurks, partially due to the fact that i can't vote and the fact that i don't ever want to vote.

My mother and I went to see my psycologist the other day and basically I was told that I must choose between fighting for child support from Doug or having a foster child come an dlive with us.

My friend is cutting again and I'm running out of ideas to try and help her. My other friend is a nervous wreck about going to college. And another friend is depressed and I don't know what the hell about. My boyfriend is acting all weird and me to him the same. My mother is all quiet and I can't seem to get away.

It's all pursuing me, my heart and soul and mind. It's all try to make me slip and fall and dine. I'm not hungry any longer I'm trying not to eat. I don't know what is with with but it's something I can't defeat. My stomach grows big eat time i have some food, but everything i stand in my shower and warm and nude. It's like I see my body in a hole new light, only this one's bad, it ain't right.

I started to draw hands again.

HOME AGAIN!!!

As most of you don't know...my mother was away in Washington DC for the past week and I stayed with a friend of our families. Ah it was great to sleep in my OWN bed last night. So I woke up this morning with a new vigor for what we were going to do.

My alarm went off at seven so I could wake my mother and go to habitat for humanity, where we are building a home for a family of lesser fortune than us. It feels great, wonderful, magnificant.

It just feels ......relaxed.....

I’m waiting for you

To ask

I’m waiting for you

To see

I’m waiting for you.

I’m wanting it to

Be true

I’m wanting it to

Be real

I’m wanting it too.

Are you waiting for

Me too

Are you waiting for

Me

Are you waiting finally.

You see it

I see it

You know it

I know it

Why can’t

It just

Happen

Why can’t

We just

Be together

Why can’t

We just

Forget the stares

Why can’t

We just

Succumb to our hearts.

My father wants me to visit him. Well his family wants me to go down for Christmas. It's been awhile since I've been there. Last time I was 6 I think. My mama says it's my choice. I'm the one that just went through all this therapy and stuff.

I don't wanna see my dad (who will now be referred to as Doug) He scares me. When I went to see him last time I was in eighth grade. My mama and I went down for my aunt's wedding and went to see him for a day. I had to choose my clothes carefully, as to not show off my figure of my breasts.

My grandparents said they had other arragments so they could only come and see me for about half an hour. After this was when I started to have trouble. They all wanted me to go see my Poppa in a parade, but I said no and they didn't talk to me until my birthday, when they asked for my list, gave me what I wanted. They started to lighten up a little later.

Doug scares me. And I don't want to be anywhere near him in the future. But I know I have to, God needs me to stand beside him once more. It seems almost as if he is going to die soon after i see him this next time.

He may scare me, but I still love him.

its times like this that I hate to look at the world. People of my race, at least the ones who have a resonable life,are horrible to each other. They eating eachothers words. Mutating them into something other than what the person who spoke them wanted them to be. They tell you when you are wrong, even when you know you are right. And they tell you to be silent, even when you know the Lord wants you to speak and make the most beautiful noise that there could ever be.

I tire of battle.
I tire of war.
I tire of fighting.
I just want to soar.

It's been days of hell.
It's been days of worry.
It's been days of nightmares.
I just want to be merry.

Oh redeeming one!

Jesus you are light in the darkest place,
in a world of sorrow you my song of praise,
you're the sacrifice that has saved my soul,
you're the healing balm that has made my whole.

OH redeeming one you have set me free
for you know me well yet you still love me,
I will sing your praise till your face I see,
then I'll be with you and you'll be with me.

think through all of your life.

it's just a big mumble and jumble, nothing can be separated, bnothing can be said. The world is my life, I am told to ignore it. Words are my wisdom, I am told not to speak. songs are my heart, I am told to be quiet.

Does anyone understand what they say is always taken to heart by SOMEONE!?

Apparently not, otherwise there would be no war and only peace.

Well, I've decided to take it very slowly. I see my psychologist tomorrow. But that's not what I'm here to write about.

I have decided to eat less. So I refuse to eat my lunch anymore, not to mention I need the money to pay for Noah's piano lessons, so I can't exactly eat because of the whole needing the money. But I still do't eat breakfast, it's way to early to actually eat.

So, I'll only have dinner and lunch on Wed. The only problem with using lunch money for Noah's Piano is that when we have only four days of school or so. I only get 12 rather than 15 and lesson's are 15 not 12. So this creates a little problem but i'm sure I can find a few dollars around the house.

Silence, we all need it sometimes. Just to sit and think or to sleep and dream. But we do need it. No matter what you say, we do.

    She stood in the doorway, the sight a frightening shrill. Her only child lay head on her arm, legs slightly bent, and her hand thrown from her body, plam up and a red hole going all the way through her soft flesh. The mother walked over and picked up her daughters precious hand, and then her other one. Tears began to flow down the poor womans face as she craddled her babe's head in her lap. There to the side of the room was a nail and hammer, the nail lodged in the wall.
    Through all her pain and suffering the mother had always looked for Jesus, no confindence in him coming to her. She had taken a lot of her anger and frustration out on her baby girl. And in the last place she looked, did she finally see and hear him. Within herself did God's only son live.

If we are the body ~~ Casting Crowns

It's crowed in worship today
As she slips in trying to fade into the faces
The girls teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know
Farther than the know

But if we are the body
Why aren't his arms reaching
Why aren't his Hands healing
Why aren't hisWords teaching
And if we are the body
Why aren't his Feet going
Why is his love not showing them there is a way
There is a way

A traveler is far away from home
He sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row
The weight of their judgmental face tell him that his chances
Are better out on the road.

But if we are the body
Why aren't his arms reaching
Why aren't his Hands healing
Why aren't hisWords teaching
And if we are the body
Why aren't his Feet going
Why is his love not showing them there is a way

Jesus paid much too high a price
For us to pick and chose who should come
And we are the body of Christ

But if we are the body
Why aren't his arms reaching
Why aren't his Hands healing
Why aren't hisWords teaching
And if we are the body
Why aren't his Feet going
Why is his love not showing them there is a way

But if we are the body
Why aren't his arms reaching
Why aren't his Hands healing
Why aren't hisWords teaching
And if we are the body
Why aren't his Feet going
Why is his love not showing them there is a way

Jesus is the way

This song represents so much in my life. Sometimes the youth at my church as these questions to the elder folk. If we are the body, why aren't his hands healing. Why aren't his words teaching, why aren't his arms reaching, why aren't his feet going? Then we say, let me tell you this, it is not because of money.

Sure it makes them angry, and we shouldn't speak that way to our elders. But they speak that way to us. Asking me why I dare to not wear shoes in the sanctuary. I respond simply, "God does not care. He loves me just the same."

So if Jesus is the way, Why can I not find him within others? Why do I feel like the youth are everything to this church? Simple, we are. But why does it have to be like that? Simple. We are not mature enough to give money for tithing, hence you cannot participate in important objectives. But we are the ones gathering and speaking God's word. Can't they see that? No they cannot, for they are the ones condeming themselves. They are killing God's church. We are making it new.

:cry:

I read today that children of abuse tend to starve themselves and self-mutilate. It is to true...something must be done.

But first I must help stop world hunger.

Well, I'm binge eating. I didn't eat anything yesterday. But today I ate turkey (a small slice) some cookies and a mily way. It's not exactly heathy food, but some of you don't care as long as it's food.

I lied to someone. It's making me cry. For me it easier to tell someone it words that I write, rather that words that come from my mouth. I lied to her about my eating habits and i'm terribly sorry. I hope she can forgive me.

A lot of people say I'm self-centered because I'm starving myself, I cut, and I like to be outgoing in how I look but not act. I say it is because pain follows my every move and these are the only ways that I can see fit to be dispelled of it.

Lately I've had no inspiration. I just write about a clock of a chair and how smoothe the wood is under the soft touch of my tender fingers. Or how I miss people or am worried for them but know not what to do for them.

My friend is sick again. And she didn't recognize me when I walked up behind her today before school started. I hung out with her for a year, over a year. And she said she didn't recognize me because I wore white, and because I wasn't depressed. Little does she know what goes on in my mind.

Another of my friends lied to me. I trusted him with everything in my past. And what does he do? Lie about one of this simplilest things to tell the truth with. Now niether of us can bare to say one thing nice to the other.

My other friend mentioned my rape again this morning. As if explaining why each of us is the way we are. So yes, if it had just been me in the group, it would be different. But the fact that it wasn't just me and Mike was there and anyone in the hall could have heard him, including two of my teachers. I almost cried. I told him never to mention it again, and if he did I would be forced to make a decision between his ability to keep a secret and our friendship.

Times come
Times go
They pass
As they flow.

It is hard
For everyone
To understand
In this forum.

I feel pleasured
And pained
Its wonderful
Like being slain.

The cuts
My reminder
Some only wish
For me to be kinder.

It looks horrible
Like pie
Thats been cut
Until I saw it die.

A puny bag of croutons, two mnm's, a 20 oz bottle of water and a handfull of pretzles with honey.

Heaven follows my footsteps.
Hell is where I am.
Knowing this, is the only difference,
For I do not want to leave.

One rolls down my cheek and onto my chest, the other onto my lip; when I open my mouth I can taste the salt on my tongue. I'm crying, as usual. I can laugh when I cry, but it doesn't ring true. My face stings and my stomach is pained. I'm laying on my couch, not moving a thing.

I want to cut again. But I know I shouldn't, someone almost saw today. Maybe I'm just paranoid about it. I don't want anymore people finding out about my 'secret.'

I know who I am, but I don't know what I will be.

I will never eat again! And I bet that no one will care! Not one person. I get yelled at for trying to tell something important when before I got yelled at for not telling it right away! I don't know what to do! I have decided not to eat, ever again.

Until my bones are all I have and my face is pale and yellow from mal-nutrition and until I can walk no more because I am to weak to stand. I will and I am going to accomplish this.

You just watch me, I am 130 pounds now. I'll keep an update to see how it is all going. I promise, this will work, and I will stay this way, until I die from starvation.

We sat together on the couch, my leg crossed under me and the other dangling off the edge. He was across me, his eyes transfixed on mine. His were blue and grey, a glorious mixture. I closed my grey ones and raised my hand to gently caress his cheek.

His skin was soft, and gentle; I smiled to myself as he breathed in deep. My fingers traveled down to his neck and he tilted his head to the side as I lightly touched the nape of his neck.

He was there and he was with me. I woke up the next morning, to the phone ringing. It must have been three in the morning. I answered grogily, it was the police. My love had been in a car crash a few hours eariler on his way home, and had died instantly. I collapsed to the ground in furious tears.

I knew I shouldn't have let him go home, I knew something was going to happen. The stupid gut feeling. Oh how did I love him, more than anything I could ever imagine. I lived because he was there.

His lips touched my tenderly and I pressed a touch harder against him. He was warm and succulent. His lips gently parted so I followed suit. It was wonderful what came next. The pleasure I never thought even conprehendable. It was unexplainable at the moment.

We separated and parted our ways later that evening. I came home and lay on my bed. Silently falling asleep to the memory of my first kiss.

It happened again, it was dark and I was cold. I was crying because he hurt me. Not my father, but someone I trusted dearly. I laid in bed and thought, a friend told me he didn't want me to do it, that he could make me stop. I told him right back that it was my choice to stop or not.

So, I was laying there, and I felt an urge, it was strong and powerful and uncontrollable. I grabbed my razor and my lighter. I scraped off my scab and cut it deeper and sliced into the side of my leg. Burning my skin just under the bloody scratches above.

I cried, but I stopped. And said aloud, "I will eat no more: forever more." I didn't eat until I got home, my stomach hurt like crazy. I decided to take it slow, well my mind did. But my will overpowered it. I will eat and forever more until I die of old age.

I cut, I burn, I was sexually abused, I was hurt again and again. But I still have life in my bones. And I thank you Lord for it.