Tea

I can't sleep.
I'm slightly dizzy and everything feels a little fuzzy.
I'm going to catch up on some reading and then do my math homework.
I'm almost done with tutoring I have this set of homework and then three take home tests to do for math.
I've officially completed English and Italian is continuing through the summer.
I'm just scared that I won't have enough requirements to be a senior next year.
If that's the case I don't know what I'll do.
I can't do another two years of high school.
Everyone keeps telling me "Oh Rachael it's not that bad" but it is.
I just can't do it.
And I have to make sure that this year going into school I look sick.
I'm so tired of hearing that there's nothing wrong with me because I 'look fine'.
It sounds horrible but if I'm killing myself might as well not hold back right?
So at some point tonight I'll probably go down stairs with my iPod and exercise.
It's hard with Ben sleeping on the couch.
I wish he would just leave but I need to get on the elliptical.
It tells me how many calories I'm burning and how long I've been exercising and it does more for me that crunches can.
My muscles will be screaming later today.
I'm only allowing tea because the passed few days have been nonstop binges.
I can stand this feeling.
I haven't been able to purge and these little voices keep screaming "buy laxatives".
Anyways.
shit post.
<3 more later. be nice to yourselves.
CHEERS

Maintaining

Makes me hate myself.
Makes me carve into my finally clean arms with my double edged blade.
Makes me go to the kitchen and binge wildly forcing myself to purge when I realize what's happened.
Maintaining physically hurts.
It makes me unable to think.
Makes me unable to concentrate on homework or anything really.
It makes me cringe when I look in the mirror.
The over sized sweater it is today then, least someone see how fat I've gotten since then number hasn't changed.
It puts irrational thoughts in my head.
Maybe if I don't eat for fifteen days...
Maybe if tomorrow I purge on an empty stomach and then weigh myself...
Maybe if I shave my head and chop off my foot...
Maybe this feeling would go away.
But I know better.
This feeling will not leave.
It will sit on my heart and weigh me down and I will be lonely and miserable.
Even if I do lose a foot along the way what difference does it make?
None.

I know she won't read it but

I just wanted to congratulate Julia on graduating.
I wish I could say it to her but I just can't.
I'm supposed to be the bad guy.
I'm supposed to be the one she blames for everything and hates.
So I'll keep quiet.
But I miss her.
I miss my friends.
I miss them all.
Most of them graduated today and I won't see them again.
Maybe it's better this way.
If this year goes the way I planned hopefully none of them will ever know what happened to me.
Hopefully none of them will have to care too much if they find out.

131.4

I feel weak and shaky today.
It took me a few minutes to stand up.
I don't have the energy to make myself tea.
I don't have the energy to do my homework.
I feel lost.
Lukas is probably sleeping.
I have this weird feeling in my chest every time he doesn't answer.
It's the same one I get when I look at pictures of Kelsey and I or read past notes she wrote me.
Sadness?
Longing?
I'm not exactly sure what it is.
I just know it hurts.
Then again everything does now.
stay strong lovelies<3
CHEERS
P.S.
it kills me that my weight is 'healthy'

I just keep getting worse

First lets all take a moment to look at the lovely new theme.
Yes now.
I fit into freshman years skinny jeans today.
And before I get an "oh my god Rachael congrats for getting your fat ass which is like size six into a size two!!":
this isn't an accomplishment.
This isn't something to be proud of.
It isn't something worth gloating about.
I looked fabulous in my flamboyant purple skinny jeans and my Dad's sweater from the seventies today but the reality of it is that I am dying.
Slowly but surely I am getting there and although I was really happy with myself and even allowed *GASP* not one but TWO handfuls of popcorn at the movie theater it doesn't change the fact that I'm beyond unhealthy.
My nails are blue have I yet told you the significance of blue nails to me?
Freshman year when I started reading Wasted blue nails became the thing I needed.
If it wasn't a thigh gap(which was another on the check list) I could get RIGHT NOW it was gonna be blue nails.
And bald spots.
And sores on my fingers.
And goddammit I was gonna fail that test.
The check list went like this:
{x}blue nails
{x}bald spots
{x}marks on my knuckles
{c}low blood pressure
{?}anemia
{}flat or concave stomach
{}sharp point hip bones(because they have to be sharp and POINTY to count)
{}a thigh gap
{}an arm gap
{}a space above my fingers when I put them together around my wrist
{}being able to fit my hands around my upper thigh
{}no hands purging
{x}keynotes in my urine
{x}muscles that eat away at themselves

c means sometimes
x of course means I have it and ? means I'm not sure.

do you see what I'm getting at? Does anyone else see how utterly sick and disgusting this list is?
Anyone?
And now that everything is starting to go "according to plan" it makes me want to cry. It makes me feel sick to my stomach with guilt and shame and worry. It makes me upset with myself.

My mom cried yesterday. She came in for a day and a half and she said to me "you know I see when I look at your arms? I see my you: two years old fat little baby arms holding a crayon scribbling away. And your arms were so perfect and you were just so beautiful. And then I see the reality. These scars. And I see all the people who have and who will judge you for them. And I don't want that. It hurts. I look at you and then look in the mirror and I'm disappointed with myself." and I just couldn't bear it. She had tears streaming down her face and she looked so heart broken. What if she knew the whole truth? All of it?
I fit into my jeans today and my mom will probably lose her daughter this year.
I fit into my jeans today and all those beautiful memories she has of me aren't true anymore.
I fit into my jeans today and I have and will disappoint my mom.
I fit into my jeans today looked in the mirror and thought I want to die.
And my mom just said "You look cute Rachie-butt."

I told my Mom

everything.
Well.
Almost.
I told her about my abuse.
and now she's going to be coming in next weekend to tell Dad about it.

PTSD

I told my therapist I was raped.
I've been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I don't know how I feel other than insignificant.
Everyone has been staring at me today.
I don't want to be me right now.