Web of lies

Today is a bad day already. And no, I'm not going to tell anyone how I feel. I will tell you guys because I trust you with my heart and my emotions and all my dirty ugly little secrets. I know you won't judge me for anything. On the outside I will create a perfect smokescreen of clear-headedness and serenity but inside, I am screaming, and no one else knows that but you.

I'm terribly unhappy. I thought I did good yesterday - not bingeing after I got drunk, sticking to lots of vegetable-based things at dinner - but the scales said otherwise. I am two pounds up and it feels horrific. Once again I feel control slipping away from me, out of my grasp.

In short, I need to start starving myself again. 1000 calories isn't cutting it for me anymore. I'm not counting anything properly; I'm fooling myself by underestimating and rounding down and convincing myself it's the scales' fault rather than my own lack of self-control. So the new project starts now - a little experiment to see how far I can push myself, outlined a few posts back. I need to train myself to subsist on as little as possible. Maybe by the end of August I will look totally different. That would be nice.

So far: an iced vanilla coffee (158 cal), a fat free yogurt (89 cal) and a sugar free red bull (0 cal). It's 2pm. Later when Tina and Caro come over I'll have a chicken wrap (230 cal) and some sort of alcoholic drink, maybe a mimosa or a screwdriver (150 cal) because I feel like orange juice. I'll end the day around 600. If I do 20 mins exercise I might be able to burn a portion of that off.

I suppose I felt weird last night. Alfie wasn't himself and it's... odd, I guess, when we all hang out, because me and Alfie are far closer than is made out in social situations. He had to go to another dinner straight after ours and left us as a group, so I couldn't kiss him goodbye like I wanted to, because we had to just awkwardly hug like it was just a standard goodbye, but the thing is we've shared so much more than that. We have epic conversations that last hours yet no time feels like it's passed at all. He will drive over to mine in the middle of the night and hold me just so I don't fall asleep crying. We go down on each other at 5am in my double bed and it's the most exquisite pleasure I have ever felt. And at the end, he cups my face with his big hands and looks into my eyes and kisses me deeply like I'm the most precious thing in the world and he wouldn't want to lose me for a second. Then we have dinner with friends... and hardly exchange a word... it's just weird and I hate it and it makes me feel vulnerable and alone with this. I hate getting emotionally attached yet I feel like I might love this guy and it hurts so badly.

So I trail back to my house with Caro and Tina after dinner, and Caro, who is way drunker than either of us, starts rambling on. And then she starts talking about secrets, something about a web of lies, not knowing if she can trust anybody, not knowing what's going to come out next... and it just chilled me, sort of, hearing her voice resounding through my empty dark sitting room, and I know she was probably just talking a load of drunk crap, but it really hit me. That people don't know everything about me, and the details of what's going on in my life. I'm keeping a big one from my friends, but then again, they all keep stuff from me and from each other, so why should I disclose every shred of my personal life to them... they're not me... they can't get inside my head... I should stop believing that they can, and treasure that I still have something pure and untainted and private, untouched by the judging social eyes I am obviously surrounded with.

The funny thing is, I know what people are leaving to fester under the surface, the things they've been concealing.

I know that Alfie's little sister was sexually assaulted by one of her best friends at the beginning of this year, and that I'm the only one he's told.
I know that Zara gets paid £100 odd every week to escort men she meets online, and she thinks I don't know, but I do, because Caro told me when she was drunk, just like she does everything else.
I know Tina is on anti-depressants and used to cut herself but she likes to keep this one under wraps.
I know that Bash secretly likes Alfie and she's coming back from holiday on the 2nd with the intention of getting with him. And I've had to nod along and pretend like I'm cool with that, all to be loyal to the cause, but in reality it scares and upsets the shit out of me.
I also know that my sister has her belly button pierced and gives blowjobs to boys,
And that my father's life is falling apart contrary to what he would like us all to think,
And that my mother wants to marry the man she's fallen in love with and has bought a house to secure me and my sister's future,
And that once I sat and watched for half an hour as Rebecca made herself throw up a three-course binge in one sitting in a public toilet,
And that Charlie is just a scared little girl who has a daddy complex and a fear of failure, and every maneuvre she executes is executed with the intention of attention,
And that I am simply waiting for my mind to throw me over the brink of sanity, the poisonous, dark, murky parts to take over and consume me, just like they did Rebecca, and maybe I secretly want this, too, so that everyone would just fucking get their stupid selfish heads out of their own backsides and see the truth about me, that I'm not just the placid, responsible, mature person people think I am, but a wounded creature full of hurt and mess and pain who just wants somebody to fucking NOTICE.

Well, that's the run down of the burn book, anyway. All hell would be unleashed if these things came out. It's funny how many layers there are, when you dig a little deeper. There is always more than meets the eye.

I just got off the phone with my mother and I pretended everything was just fine. It went well. She doesn't even think twice when I sound chirpy. She just thanks her lucky stars I'm not threatening to kill myself any more.