1.30pm

Dear Diary,

I had to know. I had to know what I weighed. I left the room and I locked the door and I walked down the hall and I descended the stairs but I stopped at the bottom because there was still a part of my brain telling me to keep fighting. Then I saw Toby sitting with a group of people. People he knows and I don't know because I'm the worst kind of person and nobody wants to know me. They looked up and saw me and I know that they knew too. That they knew I was a huge screw up, incapable of looking after myself. Incapable of making friends or fitting in or feeding myself or starving myself properly. I saw inside their heads and they were pitying me.

If I could have melted into the floor there and then, I would have. Let me become a stain on the woodwork for people to walk over. Let all the water in me evaporate and disperse about the world and let my bones be powdered and ground into the carpet.

I did not melt. I walked down the road and I bought a set of scales. I ran back to my room, ignoring the judgement of the dozen faces with the Judas, Toby in the centre, and I pulled off all of my restricting clothes and finally learnt the precise weight of this body. Now I know, I can fix it. I can scourge off all of the offending flesh and become clean and pure and skeletal and nobody can say that I am not strong or that I don't work hard. I will become thin again.

Sherlock Holmes

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