2004-09-08, 7:07 a.m.
It's Sunday, and since it's the first Sunday of the month, my church is taking communion. I'm sitting through the service for the change, though I'm anxious since I'm so manic lately. It's hard for me to sit still and I'm turning my styrofoam coffee cup inside out slowly with my thumbs and pointer finger. The people around me get aggravated if I'm not quiet enough. I don't stop because I'm too fidgetty to not to.
After we take communion, I keep walking straight out the aisles and out the church doors. I walk into the youth office and spit the Jesus pita bread into the waste basket. Sorry Jesus, you have calories. Then I go into my youth pastor's drawer. I know he won't come out because I was sitting next to him. The envelope usually stashed with money is empty. Still. It was empty last week also. He won't refill it as usual. God fucking mother damnit. I curse under my breath. My heart races. I stand there not knowing what to do. Then I look at the jar on top of his bookshelf. It's a big coil pot I worked so hard on for him in 7th grade art. I stand on shelves and take it down. It's full of change from over the years. I start filling my pockets with quarters. Everytime I tell myself "last quarters" I take a couple more. Eventually I worry my cargo pants will look obvious of bulk, and stop.
Then I stuff 6 mini chocolates in my pockets too.
Then I walk back into the service with my hands in my pocket. They're singing worship songs and I slip back next to my youth pastor, hands in my pocket and everything. I sing the songs, leave the service at the end, and go into the bathroom to put my booty into my purse.
Later I count 6 dollars in quarters.
Last night I babysat. The mom asked me if I'm getting skinnier. No one really comments on my weight anymore so that was nice. Either because the people close to me know they shouldn't or because my weight doesn't change enough to. I felt a moment of pride, but then it faded as quick as it came.
I stole food from their house too.
I feel numb.
I'm going to hell.
My dad gave me a 20 yesterday. I spent 15 that same day on food.
Up till 11:30 last night bingeing, purging, tweezing, picking, grooming.
Obsessive behaviors. Then I layed in bed, not even tired. I just wanted to get up and organize my binders, or something.
It's 7:15, and I have to get ready for school. I don't want to start this day. Starting a day holds no promise. It leads to food obsessions, grocery stores, weight failures. Shame, guilt.
However, today I feel almost thin. Weight is down. 80? 82? I think my scale is broken so I don't know. My body just says "almost right?"
But I'm crying, so what the hell does that mean. If I'm attaining what i dediacate my life to, why am I crying.
Because this is a miserable life.
I don't want to recover. I just want to die.