I wonder how the world sees me. I wonder what they think about me. I wonder if they notice things about me that maybe I don't even see. I wonder if they think I'm funny. I wonder if they think I'm smart. I wonder if they think I'm good enough, and I wonder how much they really know. But most of all, I wonder if I'll ever be strong enough to tell anybody.

I wonder if anyone sees how broken I really am.

I wonder if they notice the way my stomach caves in, pushing my ribs out. I wonder if they notice the dark bags under my eyes, camoflauged by layers of makeup. I wonder if they notice the way my bones show through my skin, the way my cheeks are hollowed out. I wonder if they think about it.

I wonder if they ever ask about the armbands I always wear. I wonder if it invades their thoughts, their minds, leading them towards a conclusion they don't really want to reach. I wonder if they'll ever force themselves to put it together.

I wonder if anybody reads my LiveJournal account. I wonder if they ever stop to think about who Jaybird really is. I wonder if they've ever asked themselves what his name is, and why he has to hurt so bad. I wonder...

I wonder why I'm so messed up. I wonder why I, of all people, was born just to grow up and be this person I never wanted to. I wonder why I don't even try to get over it. I wonder why it doesn't hurt me like it should.

I should hurt when I think the words. I should be ashamed of myself, I should want to change, I should want to get better. But I don't. I can think it, all of it, and not have a problem. I'm anorexic. I'm bullemic. I'm self-injuring. I'm suicidal. And I don't really even care anymore.

I used to try and express the hurt. I cried, I screamed, I locked myself in the bathroom and didn't come out until I was so exhausted from crying that I almost couldn't breathe. I blogged about it. I researched it. I tried and tried to get over it. And now, I just live with it. I live with the inexpressible pain residing deep within me, under my skin. I feel heavy and weak and tired, and I'm not always sure I can keep going. All I can do is make it through today.

I wonder if they've ever noticed anything about me. I wonder if Kendall and Logan and Carlos have noticed. I wonder if they ever ask themselves why I can't finish a meal anymore. I wonder if they think about why I buy wristbands and bracelets and jackets to cover my arms. Sometimes I wonder if they even care.

Last night, Kendall got on the computer while I was logged in. He saw my website history- Thinspirations, LiveJournal, Diary of a Self Injurer. Research sites about self-mutilation. I know he saw, because his face went blank with shock and he left the apartment. He came back around 3 this morning. I haven't seen him since.

That's why I have to do this. He knows, he knows everything. I'm not ready for anybody to know yet. I'm not ready to lose this. And the only way I can think of to keep it is to lose everything. That's why I'm holding a bottle of white pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. It's only 5 a.m. They won't expect me to wake up until at least noon. They won't check on me 'til mid-afternoon. By then, I'll already be dead, and nothing will matter anymore. The only thing left to do is to write the note.

I opened my computer, pulled up a Word tab, and started typing.

I wonder how the world sees me. I wonder what they think about me. I wonder if they notice things about me that maybe I don't even see. I wonder if they think I'm funny. I wonder if they think I'm smart. I wonder if they think I'm good enough, and I wonder how much they really know. But most of all, I wonder if I'll ever be strong enough to tell anybody.

I wonder if anyone sees how broken I really am.