I'm alive; barely.

I am busy working and being harrassed by my thoughts.

I no longer have to gain weight and I hate myself for it.

I am slipping but I won't let myself completely fall off of the ledge.

I have come too far.

I am fighting yet I am so unhappy.

I miss being "sicker."

I am not cured, I am not happy all of the time,

I guess I am just neutral. I have my on and off days.

I'm not sure what I want. I feel kind of lost.

Time is going by but I feel like I am missing it all.

I don't know what is going to happen next.

I am just floating on this raft on the water. Seeing where the waves take me.