06/14/2006 - 3:46 p.m.

I've been sitting here thinking that it's entirely possible that I made a mistake by coming up here given everything that's happened thus far. I mean, lets see in the course of a month (and one day) I've managed to have 96 dollars stolen from me, spent 15 days in the nuthouse and 2 in my car. I'm still pissed at someone although I'll just pretend I'm not and sit here and stew in my anger.

Of course, I tend to take that anger out on myself as anyone can see if they look at my arms. I wonder what is so terrible that I can't verbalize it but instead have to carve it out in my skin. I realize at this point that I have well over 100 scars that I can never cover up. I suppose the good news is that I never have to look at the scars my ex husband left. But why on earth would I inflict that on myself? And why can't I stop? Why do my old demons that I thought I'd conquered come back to haunt me?

No, I don't mean alcohol this time. My friends from high school probably know what I'm talking about. The one where I eat and puke...puke and eat...I've started doing it again for no reason other than I don't want to be fat. I've been doing it off and on for months though. Since What's His Name left...maybe before. I seem to have lost track of time at some point. There's Before Hell and After Hell Broke Loose. Before Hell was a good time...I was mostly sane, things were going well between what's his face and myself. But now, all the things I SHOULD have had...are gone...and I HATE him for it.

But I suppose one mustn't look back on the past...but how can I NOT look back when it affects me NOW?? Do you want to know something scary? I think I want my exhusband back...he may have been an abusive asshole, but at least I always knew what to expect from him.

I started writing my book finally and I have the chapters in a folder on my computer. It's coming along fairly well if I do say so myself. I do wish however that I could write more freely though. I'm not hiding anything but my writing seems stiff...NOTHING like these journals...I wonder why that is? I've never had problems writing before. I guess it could be that I'm trying to present a package to the world and I want it to be perfect...because I'm certainly not...

But yes, I think I made a mistake by coming here. Then again, there's nothing for me in TN anymore, what's his name made sure of that...

Someone save me please...from myself...

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