I'm going in to clean out the bookstore today and help my mom with setting junk up. I've had some tea and I'm about to eat an apple. Took my Prozac (4th bottle since initial perscription...woo hoo).

You know, this is the first blog I've ever kept and been viligant about updating. I've opened up and deleted and opened up and neglected so many livejournal and xanga accounts. The only other blog besides this one that I update reglularly on is my myspace blog, which is just a place I use to store poems I write. I'm not really composing for readers or anything. I guess I just feel safe in this one. Which is silly because for all I know everyone I know has acess to reading this. But ignorance is bliss and it's been great. I really appreciate this space to get out all the junk on my mind, I know sometimes it must be tedious to read, it is for me sometimes.

I've been talking to friends and fellow patients at the last hospital I was admitted into, we gave each other our contact info when I left and we've just been keeping in touch for the past year. Also, I have a friend online who I met through a support group. We both have relapse issues and it's easy and nice to talk to her.

I am ashamed to say it, but I am the pro-ana queen, or...I used to be. I swear, name any pro-ana site and not only will I know it, I will know it backwards and forwards, who runs it, and most likely have an account with it. It would take months to go through every pro-ana site I have bookmarked or saved on my computer's files. That's really sad, when I think about it. But I haven't gotten rid of them because they are my safety blanket, my security and I still visit them.

The thing is, a lot of people would go to me for help with losing weight and tips on how to fight off hunger pains and hide things from your parents. And I gladly informed them on how to successfully starve yourself to death like an idiot. I'm so ashamed of myself, I feel like I'm responsible for ruined...and even lost, lives.

I had friends online who suddenly disappeared, only later for me to find out they were dead. They were finally thin enough, the perfect anorexics, immortal and goal points for other girls to look up to. It sickens me and sometimes does cause me to get physically sick to even think about it. And yet, I still visit those sights. More like a lurker now though. I don't talk to other girls who seem so early into their diseases and so eager. I remember being eager and active on sites like that. I feel like a veteren in some sick way. Now I stay silent, no longer eager and upbeat about this lifestyle but solemn and bitter.

Somehow I feel like I need to do something to make up for the girls I feel I have personally corrupted. I know I haven't...but I can't help but think that I somehow ruined them by helping them. But I know if it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else, something else. I just hope they're okay and that they're happy and healthy and love themselves.

I don't know, I was just thinking about it. The internet is a terrible, sick, beautiful thing, isn't it?