Today has been a sucky day; nothing special, nothing good.

I'm so completely out of it. It's so wierd.

It's like I'm freaking out inside, but I'm not showing it on the outside.

I want to cry my heart out so bad but I don't have the energy to. I have nothing.

I just sit here all day wrapped up with ED. There's no escape whatsoever.

The more I try to do what the recovery voice tells me to do, the more ED screams.

He tells me how fat I am, how disgusting I am, how guilty I should feel, how I'm a failure.

It goes on and on and on.

It makes me sad, but I can't let him go. He means too much to me.

Yeah, he hasn't done a lot of good for me, but there is some benefit to having him with me.

If he's gone I know I'll miss him. I'll miss him when he congradulates me for not eating, or for exercising, or for eating all the right things. He makes me feel like something when I'm really nothing.

I'm nothing but a face with a name.

Nothing special, nothing unique; just another girl with anorexia.

And I'm even more afraid to let it go, because I feel it's all I am right now.

It's all I can hold onto. It's my identity.

I used to be a cheerleader, student, friend, daughter, coach etc.

I'm none of that now. I'm a different person.

I'm my eating disorder, and I'm afraid that's all I ever will be.

People say to me, picture yourself years from now.. what do you see?

I don't have an answer. I see nothing by a dark tunnel in front of me, nothing but a long deserted road.

I hate to say that I can't picture my life without an eating disorder and that I don't think it's possible, but it's the truth. I see other people who are recovered and I envy them, because they were strong enough to fight through all of this pain and discomfort and hell, and here I am sitting here barely being able to breathe.

I don't feel as strong as they are. I can't see myself going to the beach, going out to eat, wearing normal fitting clothes, wearing makeup, smiling; nothing. All I see is some fat girl looking back at herself in the mirror with tears in her eyes, hate for herself, and everything she is. I see someone who is still married to ED; not someone who loves her for who she is, and someone that truly loves her. I see myself as alone, with barely any friends because I've pushed them all away. I see a depressed, sad, hopeless woman who just wants her life to end because she is still living with ED.

It scares me that I see that. It scares me when I see women who are 50 years old, and they're spending their life in treatment with feeding tubes. It scares me. I will never forget the day when I saw a group of girls/women from Alcott aka an inpatient hospital unit that I have been threatened with constantly, and they all had feeding tubes. I will never forget the sadness they had in their eyes, and the hopelesness that came through. I'm scared to be one of them; I'm scared one day I'll just give up fighting and I'll get even worse than I am now. I know I've always said that I want to be sick, and I do, but then part of me is scared to be. I can't tell you how many times I've thought about killing myself and how many times I've cut myself because of all the pain and suffering I've been dealing with, but I've never been able to actually take my life. I don't have the courage to, but sometime I wish I did, just so I could end all of this. It would make it so much easier. But I know it would only make it harder on those who care. But I feel like even if I did die that it wouldn't really make a difference. It's kind of like I'm dead right now. I don't talk to anyone, so I'm basically invisible and not here. So it shouldn't make a difference, but I hate to see people so hurt. It kills me inside, because all I want to do is make everyone happy. I want to take away everyone's pain who has an eating disorder, because no one ever deserves to go through something like this. But I feel differently about myself.

I'm trying to hold on, I really am. I feel like I have no choice but to right now.

I'm afraid that everytime I fuck up and listen to ED I'm a failure. I'm afraid that if I do anything wrong, I screwed everything up for myself. I'm afraid that I disappointed everyone who expects more of me. I want to show that I'm strong, and that I'm capable. I want to prove to my doctor that I don't need to be in treatment with people making me eat a certain amount, and watching me eat it, making me scrape my plate, and eating for a certain amount of time. It's hell. That's my motivation right now. I cannot do that to myself. It's just not worth it to me. It's not worth my freedom. I know for a fact that if I got put into treatment I would end up being one of the 50 year olds with feeding tubes. I would give up everything, and all of my hope and motivation. At that point I would just see no point in trying, I would see no light at the end of the tunnel. It's hard because like I said I don't even see one now. Sometimes I can see little glimpses of it, but they don't seem to last. I try to gain it from those who are doing well, and who are on the other side of the tunnel, but how can I know if my life will turn out that way as well? I don't feel like I'm one of those women who will be able to recover. I know i already said that but I can't get away from that thought. It seems like I've been going through this forever but it's only been 2 years. I can't imagine how people can go through it for 10 years. It makes me feel like I'm not sick enough; makes me feel like I need to get worse and get to the point of death for it to be serious. I still don't feel sick enough, or thin enough, or perfect enough. I'm scared not to be, and I'm afraid I'll never let that go. I know numbers shouldn't matter but to me really thats all that matters. I don't know what to do about it.

I tried to get out today because I was so fucking bored so I went to Barnes and Noble. Brought my snack and everyone was probably talking about me saying how fucking fat I was for eating as much as I did. It's embarrassing. I hate eating out. I hate being around people. I picked up a book to read. "Eat This Not That." Basically telling you what's good to eat and bad to eat. It tells you healthy things at restaurants, and bad things at restaurants. It's basically my survival guide. I tried to sit there and soak up all 500 pages but it was impossible, I wish I could've just bought it. I wonder if people saw me looking at it, and if people know I have a problem. I always wonder. Is is bad that I WANT people to know I'm sick? Yeah that is bad, but I don't care. Like I said, it makes me feel important and visible. But blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. I feel so shitty right now. All I'm thinking about is my appointment Thursday and how fucking nervous I am. Ugh. I wish I wasn't. It makes everything so much worse. I thought that when I started doing what I should that I wouldn't be anxious anymore, but it seems even worse. I'm so scared of disappointing her and screwing everything up, I'm scared of losing my chances and my freedom. ED is just so loud right now and I can't seem to break away from him completely. He is still continuously knocking at my door, and I'm still opening it. I feel like it's getting less and less but it's still happening. Will it ever stop? Will he ever go away? Even if I'm recovered? I don't believe so. I think he'll always be there trying to pull me back in every chance he gets. And who knows if I'll be at a point where I can say no and tell him to fuck off. I'm afraid i won't be able to, and that I'll be like this forever. I'm scared of every single day ahead. I wish I didn't have to go through it. Make it all go away. Someone. Mom? God? ANYONE.