I'm shaking a little and kind of want to cry as I write this. I'm not a real self-harmer, though the urges have been getting more frequent lately. And I'm in the midst of some as I type.

I don't cut or burn or anything like that: I beat. Fists or belts, and part of me wishes someone else would do it to me, because another person could be much more brutal than I am.

It's always the same thing that makes me start thinking this way: health and exercise. Those have been the subjects that spared my last two attacks, and all the anger and shame I feel at my total failure there. During my worst incident a couple months ago, I was thinking about diet and how "eating well" means eating an extremely restrictive diet that eliminates virtually anything I enjoy eating. But that's what I have to do, because health, and I don't get a say in it, and the only reason the loss of pleasure bothers me is because I am a worthless piece of trash and deserve to suffer as much as possible. I'm too weak, too pitiful, too disgusting, repulsive and poisonous for not being able to handle a virtuous life of constant self-denial.

My thoughts right now are about exercise. I've been trying to start exercise programs but basically everything is beyond me. I can barely do 10 reps of anything without being completely exhausted, and I'm not into pushing myself. One workout I've been trying to follow makes heavy use of that move called burpees. They're completely exhausting and I can barely breathe after doing 20 of them. I'm supposed to be doing 100. Also, you're supposed to do a full push-up in the middle, not thrust yourself onto your stomach and get up from there (or as someone described it, "flopping around"). I can't do a proper push-up by itself, much less in the middle of an already tiring exercise. There's a lot of things I can't do too; I can't do proper sit-ups, either. I get to my mid-back and get stuck. I've been trying a yoga workout and even that tires me, and there are moves I can't do. I'm not flexible at all. I'm not flexible enough to do the moves needed to become flexible; or strong enough to do the moves to become strong.

I am trash, then. I am a weak, worthless piece of **** and I deserve to be killed in the most brutal way possible. I deserve to be tortured. I was thinking I should find a trainer who will abuse me: who will punch and kick me when I slow down or do something wrong, and scream at me constantly, reminding me of what a worthless, filthy skank I am. Maybe I could start incorporating self-abuse into my workouts, slamming my head or beating myself when I get tired to remind myself of how disgusting I am for my weakness...rather, I'm just going to give up working out. There's no point since I'm not even capable of doing it right.

I'm actually tearing up from writing this....and it's so stupid too, to want to self-harm over exercise. I mean, exercise is supposed to be painful and punishing, it's supposed to make you sick, but I can't even make myself go to that point. Health is pain, it seems; it's supposed to be punishing and miserable. Everytime I look at all the things one is supposed to do to be healthy and fit, and realize how it's either painful, miserable, or impossible, and remember that that thinking is because I'm such a whiny *****, such a weak piece of trash who really isn't fit to live if I can't handle life, maybe I should just die.

And for all of this, I'd love to get in shape and stronger, but I c'at bear to. Because I am garbage and deserve to die. That's all there is to it. I want results, but without the constant pain and deprivation, without having to punish myself for failures and beat myself up (figuratively) to do things, then punish myself some more if I don't. I have no discipline and deserve to die for being so horrible.

If I'm repeating myself, I do that a lot when I'm in a crazy state like this. The same things keep repeating in my head.

Funny, too, because thinking along these lines makes me more angry than anything. I want to break or destroy something, even if that something is myself. Exercising until I pass out or at least vomit would seem the most logical option to dispel these feelings. Except I know that once I'm in this mindset, the thought of exercise isn't at all appealing. Why bother when I'm already such a failure? It's not like I'm going to suddenly channel my anger into physical exertion and do everything right. And besides, I don't want to be "broken" like that. I want to be broken the way I deserve: by being beaten or tortured to death.

In fact, I've become a fan of this show about female killers, and there have been a couple of episodes about those who tortured their victims. I watch and all I can think is "That should be me. Someone should do that to me. If I can barely handle light flaying with a belt, how could I be expected to take the punishment I actually deserve?"

Well, at least in the time it's taken to write this, the urge to smash my head into a wall has decreased significantly.