crash&burn.

I'm so tired and the light is grey and black spotted.

I stayed up until five in the morning again exercising. My legs were so tired that I fell asleep in the living room.

I can handle staying up late. I've barely slept in 2 1/2 years, but exercising and not sleeping beats me down to my knees.

I was going through my closet earlier, and I found dieting stuff.

From when I was in like, year 4. I almost started crying.

Have I really been obsessed that long? Have I really been obsessed for five years?

But only for three has it been like...like this.

Before it was just dieting.

This seems like a bigger deal than it is to me. Just that I've spent so long worrying about my weight.

I remember the first time I weighed 110, and I stayed in the bathroom for half an hour freaking out about how I didn't want to weigh that much.

My body mass index was 19.5 then...I have no idea what it is now. I hate not knowing my weight.

We went dress shopping, finally.

I walked through the isles, spinning racks, flipping through rows, picking something up, setting it down, looking at the same thing again.

I came home with two dresses, a skirt, and a nightgown.

I'm a size four.

Everything just says 'small', except for one of the dresses. It's labeled there, in black ink, four. A simple number, or a word if you turn it this way, is enough to make my heart beat faster. Am I shrinking? Last time we went shopping I was a size seven.

When I wake up, every morning, I stand in front of the mirror, twisting my body in every angle it will allow, to see if it's any smaller. Sucking in, breathing out. Puffing my stomach to it's largest, sucking in again. Punching it. Breathe out, suck in, breathe out, suck in.

Every once in a while, every scarce while, I want to stop eating long enough to wither away. I want to feel myself slopping beyond the brink of return, and then try to struggle back.

I want falling out hair and brittle nails and bloodshot eyes and bruising skin and skeletal body.

And then I breathe out again, and remember that's all I don't want. I don't want bones, I want soft skin that can be touched and held.

Suck it in, and I wonder...Who's going to want me like this? Even if I'm not a serious case of dieting, who will want me like...this? Weak and addicted?

Breathe out, and sometimes I think it can stay that way. That I can just breathe clearly for a while.