This is the longest relapse I've had. I feel strangely distant from everything now, like I'm not here and nothing's touching me and I'm floating.
It seems more realistic.
Is this reality? I continue asking questions to which no one answers but that's fine I only ever need to talk about nothing.
My name is Ash now.

--Ash.

I'm taking out my anger on my organs again, and I'm wondering why I stayed alive. And I've trusted and trusted and all I am is here and alone and I'm finding it harder to cope and control and this doesn't feel like a descent.
This hasn't been goodbye and I never said hello but all I've been is asleep or in the shower I'm never clean.
Just go. Just go. Leave leave leave.

--Andria.

My body has it's act together and so do I. I'm stronger now, much more than when I first wrote here a year or so ago.
I can wake up hungry and go to bed the same way. I can fill myself up with black coffee and cigarettes and diet sodas and be fueled by it alone.
I hate what it does to me though. It makes me obsessive. It makes me careless. It fills me with some kind of sick pride when I notice the way my hip bones jab uncomfortably into my mattress.

I believe when it's all gone, when I can be the weight I haven't been since I was 10 years old, everything else will be gone too. And then I can finally live in peace, away from everyone and everything and I can make a home in my own heart and empty stomach and I will never be bothered again.

This is not for you and it never has been. Go vomit the lies you tell yourself to get by on someone else.

--Andria.

I've been letting myself fall and fall and fall. But I've realised there is no ground. There is no place I'm going to hit, and I won't bruise anymore.
I've just felt so often that things aren't real but the only thing that is, is me. And I'm covered in reality and my shirt stretches around it and I just need to be a dream.

I haven't been eating.

--Andria.

I think I've seen the real in everyone and sometimes that makes me sick. Is ignorance bliss? Is bliss even really bliss? Are we all just existing in this pool of unreality, trying to ignore what isn't even real? "Reality is when you stop believing in it and it's still there." But how does one just stop believing?
It takes years to build a triple story hotel building and one might think it's simple to just tear it all down. But in lies the rubble and the mess and the brick and the dust will never settle, not really, not ever. Blood will remain forever in the pavement cracks, drying and becoming like rust.

I have to take it a day at a time but the days are so long.

I never know what time is anymore.

Gosh.
Am I just going to dwell in this forever?
Probably.

--Andria.

And damn I need to stop caring so much about how I am or what I am or what anyone else believes I am I am nothing so far I need to become something at all I need to become something that I like and something that is nice enough for other people to like please that's all I want.

--Andria.

It's becoming a strange tradition that I wake up hungover. I drink too much and I know that but I don't care. I don't care because if it affects anyone I don't care. They are the people who only care when they want to because they want to seem "emotionally attached".
I need to stop tattooing myself. I think the ink is making me sick.
I want to peel my skin off. That's what I'm doing I suppose. I can't stop carving meaningless words into my skin. My body is so scarred.
Will that last forever? Will I ever be clean again?
My head hurts. I don't know where I am. I'm swimming.

--Andria.