Direct from real life

I'm trying to keep my spirits up,
But I can't help but fall apart.

I've cut my arms once again.
It's as if I can't get enough pain from my life otherwise.
The bulimia's back.
I don't want it, but I can't help it.

Most of my friends don't understand the pain I'm going trough.
Some of them are trying to understand.
But only those, who have had the same experienses
really feel what I feel.
Why can't I have more friends like that?

My parents don't even know what I'm doing to myself.
I'm afraid to tell.
Maybe they will never find out.
Maybe it's better they don't.