1995

I found that recently in my diary. That is already more than 10 years ago, and at that time I was already so far. That was it, the isolation. No friends, nobody which with me to do wanted to have, and my family was also not better. Well, 10 years are by and I can from the things separate. Only today still occur exactly these situations, hidden in other little things. Particularly hard it meets me however that it goes with friends again and again directly. Again and again….
Spring 1995
Letter from me… I does not know whom

Why do we actually eat? In order to nourish us, clearly. I do not want to eat no more, but I cannot do it. I want again 50 kg. But I have 54. Ever someone said spontaneously to me: “You are beautifully slim” or “mad figure have you.” No one does not say such a thing. Actually I am very sad over it. Why does one say however to mummy? Mummy pressurizes me. If I am deprimiert, I must eat. If I want to have something sweet, then ask I. Utterances like e.g.: “Must you now have that? I ate nothing since noon! ”, which can save it. But it does not notice. None notices something. Why does Mach I the trouble and torment itself, if somewhat is not noticeable to a sow? There is also hardly a person, who understands me. I want to be liked, that am the wood path. I must learn again hold out, because I do not think myself capable of. Oh I drown directly in self compassion.

But you do not know like it are, if one hangs over the Kloschüssel and itself before-said: “If you it pull feel good you through now for it, because you know you are closer a piece to the dream figure.” But nothing more is useful. Are hunger cures better? I feel so bad. Dearest I would be ill.
1. One can decrease so better
2. would be dear all to me.
Actually I am already a blöde cow, but there is nobody, which has not also such phases.

I have fear. You see also these thousand articles in the newspaper (Slim nearly, Body fit, Slender you). I have fear to be accepted not in such a way as I are. So long I with me do not clear-come, how are then the others? I would have gladly a part of me, on which I can be proud. To play I did not know cello clearly. And must admit it to it not very much constructing, if all make themselves merry over your picture. Yes, such a thing I take seriously. What can I do thus? I cannot listen well, but I am always a nerve saw. If I read later, then I think: “Which is for shit.” But in the reason it is correct nevertheless. Nobody can say: “Thanks you has me helped.” because no sow has a very high opinion of me. Why do I always give all something, if I not even to my birthday which get? What am I? A changing gift chest. I hardly believe that somebody appreciates. I cannot stop however thereby. I do not want to acquire the friendship. I hope, I make for others a joy thereby. Perhaps but only I see in such a way. No, exactly that is a part at me which I hates. I deceive myself. I cannot admit that the other sometimes mad egoists are. Which Mach I the trouble a “letter” to be written over my problems, if I play down it anyway in such a way. Sometimes me all kotzen on. If one sees only one foot stripper in me, then they are to regard their own faces exactly, because they are the dirt at me stick and I are not nervt the ass that them. It turned around. Who does not like me, its dirty finger of me is to leave. Such people do not run I then also after. I am nevertheless no dog.

I can still remember that I showed the letter of my aunt. I could give it otherwise to nobody and I howled like a lock dog. Perhaps hätt I more on me to work are since eit at that time. Become simply a little stronger. Self compassion is somewhat terrible…. verabscheungswürdiges. Above all if one considers like well it us actually goes…