Dear God please give me the strength to endure this woman -
I graduated a couple of weeks ago and now at home, an unemployed graduate, stuck in the house with my psychotic mother.
I want to sit and stare at the wall and starve until it's the only thing I feel.
Not this. Not this grey rage towards her and hopelessness. Absolute hopelessness.

The Road

So my uni course has a mandatory creative writing paper. And I can't write about sex or starvation. They say write about what you know, but I'm not sure anyone would believe the things I know. I really want to win but I'm not sure where to start either.
My childhood? The people who left me? The anger, hatred and desire for revenge that's always there, every day, every night, in every person I meet the suspicion that they too will leave. I can't write about that - bare my soul on the page for some marker to shred to pieces and award me a 2:2 for some cliched story about a traumatic childhood. Didn't we all have one?
And reading back this blog, all I can see is some pathetic, drunken girl wandering from man to man looking for some form of self-transcendence and then running away sober in the morning desperate to purge myself of the filth, and the sadness. I've drifted so far. The year I began this blog I was so focused, 800 calories a day or less. That was all that mattered. Now I'm in recovery, I sometimes go to the gym, I occasionally add up the calories in everything I eat but then I don't stress. I go to sleep at night because I don't have hunger cramps and I'm on track to graduate this year. I think when I decided to get better, I had to lose part of me. It was the exchange - life for creativity. A fair exchange. I don't write any more. I don't take photos. I don't explore or dream. I gave up on the dream of being a model. I gave up on being an actress. Gave up on being a journalist. Gave up on going into broadcasting. Gave up on being 50kg.
It's my finals in a few months. There is no way I'm going to sacrifice the chance of getting a first to be thin. I nearly gave up going to university to achieve that - and then I realised I'd be stuck at home with my mum for the next ten years or worse, be in a hospital with people thinner than me making me feel like even more of a failure. So I know that it was worth it. I really do.
I just wish I could still write. And dream a bit, too.

"You're a cunt. You know that?"
"Yeah I guess. I wish I felt bad about that. I don't. I'm glad I fucked him. I hope it really fucks things up between them. Teach him a lesson, or something."
"You're a bit a psychopath when it comes to sex Daisy."
"I didn't realise there was another way to have sex. It wouldn't be any fun otherwise if someone didn't get hurt. Or at least the possibility was there."

I fucked my childhood sweetheart's cousin in his swimming pool. I decided to fuck CS's cousin the week before when CS came round to our holiday house for a barbecue. My sister's friend was there - the minute CS walked in she transformed completely. Hair flicking, eyes fluttering, suddenly interesting, talkative. I've always despised this friend of my sister's. 16 years old and she's already been suspended several times from school for anorexia, drinking, smoking and suspected drug taking. It gives me grim satisfaction to say she isn't even that thin. A bit like looking into a mirror of the past. CS responded to her flirting. I was disgusted. I've always seen CS as my territory - my first crush, my first kiss, my first dance - everything I hold to be innocent and good about my sexuality. The night progressed, more and more alcohol consumed, we're upstairs playing drinking games, it's dawn, it's only me, CS and sister's friend left. CS and I climb onto the roof to watch the sunrise. His arms are around my waist, I think finally, we're alone and this will happen. And then she climbs up the side. Inserts herself between us. Looks up at him with that searching look, longing for approval, knowing she's already won it. I resist the urge to push her over the side. CS checks his watch, he has to be at work in a couple of hours, he leaves. I try to go to bed but the urge is too strong. I storm upstairs to where sister's friend is getting into bed.
"HOES BEFORE BROS, CUNT. BACK THE HELL OFF." I scream and rage for a while, revelling in my revulsion at this girl, aware I'm completely submerged in the deep end of crazy, completely oblivious to the overwhelming sense of the crazy. She looks destroyed and slinks off to bed after grovelling for a bit.
A week later, CS introduces me to his cousin. We immediately hit it off. We go out clubbing, the night draws to an end, he invites me back to his. He suggests we go swimming. I strip. We fuck in the pool. In the morning, we fuck. His mother is delighted to see me - turns out her and my mum are best friends and I've just never met her son before. 'He's such a gentleman giving up his bed for you when you couldn't get home last night' she gushes. I nod.
CS warned me about his cousin. Womanizer, fucks around, massive dick, the usual.
And I'm not ..?