Worked out like my life depended on it. It does in a manner of speaking I guess. I feel such satisfaction when my muscles ache and pulse with pain, and when it feels as though I am tearing my heart out. It is the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing I think of at night.

Even after killing my body I still feel anxious. There surely must be more I can achieve tonight; there must be things I could do better - to be thinner - to be the best. I need so badly to be perfect, a size 0 or 00. To be small, compact, able to be held. Zero, perfect for those who want to equal nothing and to find, in this nothingness, something they dont seem to find in their own flesh. Nothing rests in me - everything moves and flips and jumps and spins and does cartwheels and then dives and lurches. I am getting up at 4am to work out secretly just to get the jitters out of me. Keep moving to work off the fat, the calories, the failure.

And it isn't that I do notknow how to eat, I just can not. Something inside me wont let me.

People keep asking me how I feel. How do you feel Tracy? I dont know? Closer. I feel closer. It is very hard to really feel when you cant feel the edges of yourself. The bones. The make up of yourself. I cant begin to find myself without looking within and finding those bones. When I find them I can begin to rationalize. For now all I can see is my goal and it is so sweet I can almost taste it... but not quite. God only knows how many calories it would possess.

I keep seeing these girls. These gorgeous thin girls. Are they natural or are they like me, shutting themselves up in the lavatory on their knees throwing up their insides as well? Maybe they are all at it in secret, and everyone is just trying to get me to stop so that they can win, be better and slimmer and neat-edged.

Either way I cannot, will not, should not stop. 99 by Christmas of nothing at all.

Tonight I read him a portion of a book about Anorexia, to let him see a glimpse into the hell I deal with after/before/during each and every meal. When I told him this was how I felt this line in his response is what has me typing frantically: Yeah, but youre not that bad. 

Do you know why he said that? Because I look the same. Because I am not thin enough to even be considered as having a problem when it consumes me like a wild fire. I am just fine everyone. Nothing even to show for my insanity. Fat/fat/fuckingwhale. I felt so ashamed. I felt like bringing it up was so stupid. How could a man who shovels food down ever understand what its like to stick your fingers down your throat until your mouth is so consumed with acid you feel like dying, right there in that filthy toilet. He will never get it. Not until I wear my bones on the outside. Not until I look as dead on the outside as I feel on the inside. I can be 120, 110, 100, 90, 80, 70, nothing/invisible/dead. 

Now, watch me disappear. 

I want to see what your insides look like. I bet you're not so pretty on the inside. 

binged on a whole pizza.

its one of those:

I hate my life weeks.

Here I am. Back again. I cant stop. I want to lose more and more and more and more until I disappear.

"We turn skeletons into goddesses

and look to them as if they might teach us

how not to need."

I am sick. I can admit that. Ana and Mia make me sick. They have clawed out my insides and taken to warming themselves with my lungs. Nestled there where my most vital organ should be, they pretend to keep a beat. A rhythmic lie to fool others into thinking I have a heart. It tears my relationships apart but I cannot stop. They wont let me stop.

I am sick. I am dying. Purge by agonizing fast I fade away and yet I continue on, because somewhere deep in the cavities of my mind, I am growing stronger. My weakness proves my strength. My blackouts prove my perseverance. My bones prove my ability to give up what others need. My determination, my self worth, my ability to be loved... is proved by the number on that scale. Do you ever get the feeling you are absolutely crazy? As if you must be without a doubt bat shit crazy when you realize you have have eaten less then 200 calories in a day?

Sometimes, it hits me how absolutely fucking insane I am. 

My head breaks through the surface of the water and I breathe this breath of fresh air. I see the sun and I feel its warmth and I realize I am sick and a part of me wants to get better. That part feels the rays of the sun and it grows stronger. Yet, just as I begin to swim toward the shore my false heart that is comprised of two starving girls sputters. It seizes and begins to grow so heavy it weighs me down. I thrash and cry and plead for help but even my lungs are crushed by the shear size and weight of my heart. I gasp a final breath and I sink and as that dark murky water closes in over head I realize just how truly sick I am. 

 INTAKE:

never enough

OUT:

negative 500 calories: feeding julien

200 crunches

200 sit ups

100 jumping jacks