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i'm i think i'm depressed. i'm done hiding things here. it's as my parents told me; "no one reads. no one cares." right at this moment, i cannot remember joy. i cannot remember sitting down to a good episode of a show i love. i cannot remember wanting to be cuddled. today i was scared of touch. me, the touch starved person i am. scared of physical contact with the right person. i shy away. i am shutting down. i am hungry but the thought of food makes me want to vomit. day after day, minute after minute, second after second. shoving food into my body which does nothing but sustain me for several hours until i convince myself to eat again. it's anti-cognitive––i know i need to eat; it will keep me healthy; by not eating i am gaining weight. and yet here i am. the smell of food is disgusting. of course, material things do not help. no amount of metal in my body, ink on my skin, things i can hold, medication in any form will make me feel better. i know i have