Too much, too much.

I really don't know what to do.

I'm not sure I should even be posting because I don't know what I'd do with myself if I knew I was triggering someone, so I'll try to be careful.

I'm... Not really doing well. At all. I've fallen further than I've ever fallen, into the deep hole of depression and the clutches of Anorexia. I'm falling continuously further and further, killing myself at a quickening pace - surviving on not much more than coffee, tea and cigarettes. I feel it, now. But it's almost satisfactory, because it's all I deserve. 

I hate myself, in truth. I don't know where it stems from, I don't know what it means, I don't know what to do about it other than let it affect me, because it's all I feel I can do - it's all I feel I deserve: pain. It's all I know how to do. Hurt myself. 

* * * 

The confusion is killing me: eat to subsist and maintain at the absolute minimum, or let it take over completely. I can't seem to face food. It just seems too much. Too much work, too much pain - I don't deserve it. If I let it take over, I can see just how far it goes. See how close to the welcomed Death I can reach - can I touch Him, can I feel Him, can I see Him and hold His hand? Do I let Him take Him with me? Away from the pain of living a life I find too hard?

That might mean I end up back in hospital. Which just means the cycle repeats itself: I gain weight, I dischanrge, I lose weight: the cycle repeats. 

I'm not ready to let go. I don't know if I'll ever be readt to let go. I don't want to - I can't. It's all I know, it's all I trust. 

* * * 

Which way do I turn? 

I don't want help. 

I don't know if I want to go back to hospital.

But I don't want to eat. Or at least, I don't want to eat to gain weight. But anything I eat will make me gain weight at this point in time, somehow. 

FUCK.

I need some advice, from someone who knows.
Please.

What.

I need help, but I don't want it.
I'm avoiding it like the plague, like I'm avoiding foodas if it's going to kill me. But realistically I know that if I keep going the way I'm going, it's the lack of food that will kill me. That's where I'm headed. But I don't know what to do about it.
I don't know if I want to do anything about it, that's the thing.

I can't think, I can't do - all I can manage to do is self-destruct. I don't want this, but I do. It's scaring me. I'm scaring me.

I really am helpless. Helpless and hopeless. I don't see there being any hope for me, nor do I particularly want hope for a brighter future.

In killing myself, I'm killing my parents. That's the only thing keeping me going - my parents. But I don't want to live my life for them. I don't want to be unhappy just to please them.
I am an awful person.

I feel so terrible for putting this out into the open - I feel like I'm hurting other people by putting these feelings out there for you all to see. But I don't know what else to do. I don't.
I can't go back to hospital again, because the cycle will just repeat itself. I can't have that, either, because that hurts more than what I'm doing now.

Help.
But don't.