so here we go again. i need to get out of this flat. i need to get away from that job. but i can´t just quit, because, well, that would be quitting. i can´t let them win. i´ll have to sit it out and pretend i don´t care. even if it kills me, and right now i feel it might. i went down two dress sizes, which is nice. if i manage to grow a bit i could start a new career as a supermodel. no, really, with a good make-up artist and the right lighting anything is possible. what´s not so nice is that twitchy shaky nervous thingy, and that i´m constantly on the edge of bursting into tears. but i guess that´s what several weeks of what feels like no food and no sleep will do to you. might this be a case of if it doesn´t kill you it will only make you stronger? somewhere at the back of my head i think it might be, and the fact that i can somehow imagine a time when all this will be in the past alone is very relieving. it must mean that i´m doing a whole lot better already. apparently i only ever write here when things are going downhill. that makes me sound horribly sad and whiny, i´m afraid. i am not always like that. just look at the long gaps between my entries and imagine i have been awfully happy and cheery there. i don´t even know why i bother, but of anybody ever happens to read this thing, believe me: i´m not always like that.