Blur

Today is Friday. It doesn't mean much to me anymore. I can hold down food now, weight is 118 lbs. I am incredibly weak, and feel like a marionette with no puppetmaster. I am simply a lifeless bag of bones and parts. I went to the lab this morning for blood tests, and I have to return in less than an hour for more. I will not know anything until Monday afternoon, at best. Friends call and check in, but they do not seem to understand how desperate I am. I simply want control over my body again. It appears, that for now, it's too much to ask.

My survival is absolutley due to my faithful roomies, who have won my lifeling devotion- as if they did not have it before. However, I wish that someone was in love with me, and would play with my hair, and wrap me up in big, strong arms and tell me that everything was going to be alright.