Lose my soul

I'm only sleeping four hours a night or less, I'm not eating like I'm supposed to. Some things I pretend to eat, then throw out. Others I'll eat, then puke them back up. Or I'll simply starve myself. I haven't been cutting, drinking, or smoking, but I've been wanting to bleed for a while now. Wanting to get high and just forget everything. Lately when I walk around I'm not me, It's as though I've become a shell of something I hate. It's not letting me sleep, it's not letting me eat, it's causing more pain than anyone should have to endure. I feel like I'm slowly killing myself but I can't do anything to stop it. I tried to go to sleep earlier, I slept for maybe an hour, then woke up. I went downstairs, took two tylenol pm's then came back and got on here, hoping... praying to God really that I can be okay tonight, that he'll just let me sleep and feel better tomorrow. John 14:18 says "I will not leave you comfortless - I will come to you." Well... not that I'm a Christian, but I really want to believe in something, and I really want to believe that this 'God' is real, and that he will help and bring me comfort. I try so hard to please everyone, and often times I forget about myself. Dad is screaming, I have to help mom. So I forget to eat. Noah is scared, so I have to help him. And I forget to sleep. Things like this happened when I was younger. Now it's just a constant, and it's killing me, literally killing me. I want and need to be eighteen so badly. I'm ready to get help and feel better, honestly even being in a hospital would be better than where I am right now, at least being in a hospital I know they would monitor my sleep, food intake, things like this. I know I could maybe get back to how I should be, honestly I'm worried how university will go... I can see myself being in college, then having some sort of break down, cutting myself worse than ever, because I don't have to hide the signs from my parents daily. I can see myself flunking out and driving my roomate crazy, I can see the university kicking me out and suggesting I get help. Or something worse happens and I'm legally forced to get help, I'll have no choice but go into a hospital. I don't want to go to a hospital, but right now I'm sort of jealous of Susanna Kaysen, as bad as that may sound. Six more months... six more months, I'll be okay...