Hello again.

I haven't written in here since March. What the fuck?

I have to be in a bathing suit on a Saturday in front of the boy I like. The boy I like a lot. So, 4 days to lose approximately 8923754298357249857 pounds.

I purged yesterday for the first time in like 2 months, and it felt really fucking good. And it feels really really really fucking good to be writing here again. I knew what I was missing. It was this. I know its wrong but for me it feels so right, so safe and lovely and welcoming and perfect.

I am so fat. Its not my broken eyes this time or the funhouse mirrors. Its overhearing my grandparents saying I gained a lot of weight. Its my clothes fitting much, much tighter. Its the dissapearing act my ribs and hipbones have performed, the softened angles of my face.

Its the numbers on the scale that never ever lie. The only thing that has never and will never lie to me.

And I'm smarter now, more cunning. There is no naive crawl from innocent diet to extreme control. Its immediately to extreme control. I must lose enough in 4 days to look less horrifically ugly. And when I start my freshman year of college on August 23rd, I will be at least 120 pounds of perfect bones and big eyes and quiet intensity.

I've done it before.

I know I have it in me to do it again and truly fucking succeed.

I know I'm back in Crazyland for real this time.