Journal 3.24.17

Today, I went to talk to the state attorney about what Tim did in December. I’ve been dreading this day for about two months. I wrote it down in my planner and made a note to get the address because there is more than one courthouse in town.

I’m exhausted.

This week was the first week of the Spring B semester, the first time I’ve been back in school since December 15th, the last day of the Fall semester, the day that Tim raped me. I’ve been back to campus a few times and I haven’t seen him. I don’t know if he’s still around. I hope he’s not.

I’m scared.

The state attorney first asked me if I even wanted to proceed with pressing charges. I didn’t know what to say to that. I thought the decision would have been made for me.  I was honest. I said no. She said that was best because there isn’t enough evidence to

I forget how that sentence was supposed to end because I got distracted by thinspo. I restricted and then binged today. I hate that I ever tried a McGriddle because it’s the single most delicious thing my fat, greasy lips have ever encountered. Maybe if I complain about this medicine making me nauseous enough, it won’t be obvious if I start purging again.

I must be lying about the rape because I’m not pretty or thin enough that anyone would want to have sex with me.

I’m ashamed.

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