why don't you just bind my hands and shove me into a well

I thought it would be possible to recover, when they told me I was sick.. That it wasn't because I wasn't eating, but that if I didn't, I would never get better. I thought it would be possible when they told me I may not be able to walk, ever, if I didn't get better. I thought I could recover when they told me it was the only way I would have anything close to a normal life.

How can you NOT starve when, at five feet six inches and 117 pounds, your mother tells you you're overweight? How can you NOT fast when your little sister keeps bragging and reminding you she's more toned, slimmer, curvier, pretty AND lighter than you? And that there's fat on your thies and on your stomach? When all of this happens the same day?

I thought I could be crazy but without destroying myself. Somehow I thought the crazy would just fade away.

There isn't much light at the bottom of a well. I try to keep my head above the water but my weight is pulling me down, and I'm not even dying, only drowning, forever drowning.

Au secours, je me noie, je me noie, il y a de l'eau noire dans mes poumons, dans ma tête et dans mon coeur. Je ne suis qu'un cadavre qu'on a possédé d'une force sadique qui cogne dans mon corps et rit à chacun de mes gémissement. Mais on ne veut pas me libérer de mon bourreau...

Alors je le ferai moi-même.