I want to cry and I can't. I want to be able to speak everything that needs words put them and I find myself at a loss for those words. I want to lay down on the floor in Rob's office and just rest...let the safety of that place give me that rest I desperately want and need.

He is considering an open ended no suicide contract, but isn't sure. He said he will do what he can to keep me alive even if it means calling my mother and having her sweep my room for my meds. Needless to say, they are no longer in my room. I told Rob I wasn't worth saving and I am so thankful he didn't try and give me reasons why that isn't true because he knew his answers would fall on deaf ears. Rob said he is not making the calls he could because he trusts me when I say I will be safe from session to session.

I emailed him the whole truth last night and what I have planned...except the exact where...I started to, but backed off.

He makes it sound as if I can just wake up and not purge or cut...doesn't he get if it were that easy I would have stopped ages ago? Food is evil, I deserve the scarring of my body...two months at Remuda and I spent SIX weeks of that on a behavior contract so I was running on perfectionism and not allowed to relearn what is supposed to be the truth.

Sometimes I think it's too late for me.